Madness and Mutiny           

The salt spray washed over the deck of the big wooden schooner. It was not the best of boats, but it was all the crew could afford. The boat was on a voyage to seek treasure in the Mediterranean, however they might come by it, and though the crew looked hungrily at the fancy pleasure cruisers, Captain Jharkan kept them in line. He feared the bigger and faster pirates, who might attack if they thought the smaller boat were invading their territory. Captain Jharkan stood on the deck, laughing wildly as he was whipped by the wind. He loved the feel of wind and wave, standing invincible in the midst of the madness. Under the overhang of the higher deck, where the stairs to below decks were, a large group of his men, muttered and gestured at him as if he were not right in the head. He shouted out to them, so they could share the thrill of it.

               “Come on, men! Are you the daughters of cowards? Get out her for a real storm! HA HA! It’s wonderful!”

               The crew shrank back and retreated to the galley (kitchen) of the boat. All that remained above decks were the grinning Jharkan and his best friend, James Irons. James was leaning against the entryway, shaking his head disapprovingly.

               “You know, Jon, you’ll have to stop that if you want the crew to follow you.”

               “They’re the ones who signed on for this voyage! They decided to follow me; I had no part in it. I told them it wouldn’t be a pleasure cruise.”

               “They think you’re mad, Jharkan.”

               “Let them! I’m the captain of this tub, and we’re not going home without being in at least a slightly better financial situation. We were broke on land, don’t you understand that? We used the last of our money to buy this piece of junk, and if we go back, we’ll have run up as much as this boat’s worth in a week!”

               “Only a fool would sail a storm like this.”

               “A FOOL am I? Am I a FOOL to want better? Am I a FOOL to seek more thrills than those dried up cities have to offer? Well then. What kind of fools would follow a mad fool out into the ocean? In the year of our lord sixteen hundred and thirty? What say you to that, Mr. Irons?”

               “I’m going downstairs, captain. You may follow when you wish.”

               “Good riddance!” Captain Jharkan roared as he laughed heartily into the gale.

               “Nutbag.” James muttered as he stomped downstairs. Even though Jon Jharkan was his best friend, he still grew tired of his antics and carelessness. This was the third storm in as many days, and the men were getting antsy. As he entered the galley, he heard one man talking loudly and excitedly.

               “Our captain must be mad. He’ll get us all killed! Money? Bah! He’ll see us all to our graves, and then where’ll we spend it? I say, no more!”

               James began to step into the room to tell him off, then stopped. It was true, wasn’t it? Jharkan did take stupid risks. He cautiously stepped into the room, to see one of the men standing surrounded by the vast majority of the crew. James groaned inwardly. Scott Holden, always making trouble, instigating fights with the captain and anyone else, and yet always as popular as ever. Irons spoke up.

               “So, Scott, making trouble again?”

               The next morning, Jharkan woke up to the feeling of cold steel against his wrists.

               “Huh? What the-----huh?” Not the most brilliant of comments, but it was not really the time of day conducive to coherent thought. As he fully awoke, he realized his hands had been shackled together, and he was sitting in the brig, and it looked like he was meant to stay there.

               “What is the meaning of this? I am the captain, and I demand whoever’s idea this was to come out immediately!”

               A low, silky voice emanated from the shadows outside the open door. “Didn’t you hear?” It sneered, “You’re mad. Unfit to be the captain.” The voice stepped out of the shadows, and Scott Holden smirked at Jharkan’s shocked face, flanked by James Irons. “Of, course, I will be replacing you as captain. Right, James?”

               Jharkan looked in disbelief at his best friend, who now seemed to be fascinated with his boot.

               “I’m sorry Jon. It’s the only way. We . . . can’t risk the boat, the voyage. You might have killed us all, Jon. I’m sorry . . .”

               “So,” Jharkan said, his voice steel. “ You forsake our friendship and your friend. Well. Be damned, and may I never see you again.”

               James lowered his head in shame, but Scott laughed. “Fare thee well, madman, enjoy your cell!” With that, his visitors left, and Captain Jon was left alone with his thoughts. Looking about, he took in the details of his surroundings. He was in a small musty room, where the provisions had been stored. He noted that most of the provisions had been moved to the galley, perhaps to make room for him, but enough food and casks of water had been left so he could survive for a month or so if he had to. Jon groaned inwardly. This was going to be a long, boring voyage . . .

               After what seemed like weeks, the door to his cell opened. James Irons stepped into the room, looking scared but determined.

               “Say what you like, I probably deserve it. But I’m here to let you out, and damn anyone who tries to stop me.”

               “But . . . What of Scott? The men? The ship?”

               “Jon, Scott is a power-hungry bastard, the men will follow anyone with a keg, and the ship has never looked worse. Let’s give ’em what’s coming to them, we won’t give in without a fight!”

               They ascended the staircase to the above decks, and heard yells and cursing.

               “Well James, looks like you’ll get your fight after all! Come on, draw your sword!” They raced to the deck and ran out upon a scene of carnage. Pirates had boarded the ship, and Jharkan’s men were sorely losing. Scott Holden was cowering in the crow’s nest, yelling gibberish to no one. Jon quickly took charge, grabbing a sword from one who would no longer need it, and soon drove the pirates into the sea. Jharkan grinned broadly, then surveyed the situation. His boat, after a battle and a few days of rule under Scott Holden, was a mess. The pirates had obviously been one of the more successful bands, and their boat was a reflection of that, more majestic by far than it’s former crew; Jon could only guess at the treasures in the hold. His grin now threatened to take over his whole face.

               “Alright, you lot. Those who would still follow that weak-kneed snake may do so under no punishment of mine. All others come stand by me.” Most of the crew made a beeline to stand near Jharkan.

               “All right then! Those that wish to crew with Scott, go right ahead. Come on, crew, let’s be off to our new boat!” So Jharkan and his crew used the lines and grapples so kindly left by the invaders and ascended the walkway to their ship, leaving the unfaithful to their mess.

               “Fare thee well, Scott! May your crew be less treacherous than mine! Ha ha ha ha ha! Off we go, lads!”

               So the crew of Jon Jharkan sailed off into the horizon, leaving Scott and his men to clean up their boat and curse their luck.