Choosing A Successor

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In the decades spent as Keeper of the Pirate Code, Captain Haja Boucher had seen many Pirate Lords come and go. Some retired, some died naturally, some were murdered or killed in combat.

The individual Piece of Eight each of the nine Pirate Lords carried would then pass to a new holder, who would take the previous Lords place.

He had watched the changes without any real interest for many years. Most of them didn't know he existed, so why would he care that they came and went?

He had no interest in their individual affairs, and never bothered to learn anything about them.

Until, one Lord caught his attention and forced him to confront the fact that he was a childless widower of seventy-three. He had no successor, meaning he needed to find someone to take his title upon his death.

The Lord in question was nineteen when he entered the meeting hall for the first time, announcing himself as the heir of the previous Lord of the Atlantic, Captain Eabha Teague, whose seat he would be taking, though he chose Madagascar as his domain.

Haja hadn't particularly liked Eabha personally, but did have a certain amount of respect for the woman who proved her worth in a male-dominated world. He watched her replacement, her eldest son, with a certain amount of interest every time the Court convened.

The Codex was enormous and ancient, containing many sections, each with many hundreds of articles added by generations of Code Keepers dating back to the first Brethren Court.

It resided in an elaborately-decorated, heavily bejewelled chest fastened with a heavy lock in the shape of a skull. The volume itself was also padlocked closed, ensuring the contents were well protected.

It would take a year or more of study to understand the articles within, to sort through the ones that had been discontinued and figure out which were still worthy of enforcing.

Haja silently cursed his own rather lazy, laid-back nature and the complete lack of motivation he'd had since his wife's death. He should have at least considered the length of the subject matter that would need teaching. It was time to act on the interest he had in the young Irishman.

Getting slightly stiffly to his feet, he donned his feathered hat and went in search of Edward Teague. He entered the man's quarters, brought up short by a throat being cleared pointedly.

"People usually knock before entering the quarters of others. It's considered good manners."

The clipped English accent belonged to the woman who was sitting alone at the table, sewing.

Roxanne, Edward's wife, looked at him with a slight lift to her chin, head tilted. A steaming mug sat at her elbow, the needle in her hands glinting as she stitched, eyes flickering briefly to the needlework before fixing on him again.

Her posture, and that slightly raised chin both carried a sense of authority, a reminder of her aristocratic upbringing. Still more poignantly, something about it reminded him of Aina, his late wife.

Haja gave a slight, deferential bow of his head. "My apologies ma'am. Please forgive my intrusion. I was looking to speak to your husband."

She set her sewing aside and rose, slipping into the other room. Low conversation followed, too quiet for him to catch even if his hearing hadn't been going.

"What the fuck d'ye want?"

Edward emerged from the room, his voice husky and Irish accent heavy. He fixed his dark glare on Haja, his displeasure clearly evident. Arms folded over his bare chest, he raised an eyebrow impatiently.

Unperturbed by the younger man's very obvious annoyance, Haja merely removed his hat and placed it on the corner of the table before gesturing to a chair. "May I?"

A rather curt nod was the response he received from Edward, who felt the teapot on the table, frowned, and put the kettle over the fire.

He proceeded to make himself a mug of tea, sitting facing Haja. Silently stirring sugar into the beverage, he took a sip.

Haja sat and watched him, noticing the scars that already marred his torso and arms, the brand clear on his wrist. He was suddenly struck by how young he really was, and briefly wondered if it was fair to ask him to take on the responsibility. He soon stopped wondering-he was out of options and running out of time.

Edward cracked his knuckles slowly. A ruby ring on his forefinger glittered in the light at the movement.

"Seeing as ye didn't answer me the first time, I'll ask again. What the fuck d'ye want?"

"Eddie." Roxanne looked at him reproachfully. He ignored her, eyes fixed on Haja, who found himself mildly uncomfortable under the direct gaze.

He toyed with the end of his long beard, leaning back in his chair and taking a moment to consider his words, though decided to say it simply.

"I want to train you, as the next Keeper of the Code."

The tea Edward had been sipping went down the wrong way, and he choked. His expression full of disbelief until he regained the ability to speak. "What?!"

"I believe you heard." The faintest hint of smile played across Haja's face, amusement briefly lighting his eyes.
"I want to take you as my protégé, and the title I currently hold will one day be yours."

Slowly, Edward set his mug down. He sat back, eyes once again fixing directly on Haja's.

"Why? Why me?" The question came out more bluntly than intended.

The older man, who had been thinking, startled slightly as a mug was placed in front of him. He murmured his thanks, looking down into the beverage.

"I like what I know of your character," he said slowly. "I like the weight your last name carries. I like the fact you're married, and don't treat your wife as a lesser like most do."

"So you like the fact I'm a decent person and a Teague," Edward summed up, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "And just for fun, let's say I say no, I don't want the title, please fuck off. What happens then?"

"I could...persuade you," Haja said serenely, sipping his tea. "Though it would be easier for us both if you just agreed."

Edward looked him over for a second, apparently noticing the strength that lingered in his broad shoulders and chest. He glanced at Roxanne, who gave a slight shrug.

"Alright, fine. You ain't really giving me much choice in the matter. I'll do it."

"I expect you on the Star of Madagascar at dawn tomorrow. Thank you for the tea."

"At dawn?! Oh, fuck me, he's got to be joking..." The voice of his new protégé followed Haja as he left, confident his choice would begin a brighter future for pirates.

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