Chapter 2

He pointed at the eldest.

“You! Do you know about soap, to make washing easy?”

She frowned, but said, “You mean soapwort, the plant? You can use that as soap, for washing clothes.”

“What do you use for washing people? Like yourselves, for instance?”

“You want us to wash ourselves? What for?”

“For a number of reasons, girl: Hygiene, protection from infection, smelling better, looking good, and so on.”

“Chief, you use some strange words that I do not know, but I get that you want people to be washed. The shaman might know about such things, but we don’t.”

John found that his memory now included the basic recipe for soap.

“What is your name, girl?”

“I am Gomla, this is Gerva, and that is Gimla. We are two sisters and a cousin. Gimla is my sister, Chief.”

“Well, I can tell you how to make soap, but it must be our tribal secret. You take the cold wood ashes from the fireplace, and run some water through them, collecting the water. That water now becomes what is called lye. You make the liquid more concentrated by setting it out in a dish to evaporate near the fire, until it is concentrated, then heat it to a high temperature. Do you know anything about plant oils?”

“Oil? Yes. Some tribes make it from olives and other similar fruits that have seeds rich in oil, and we trade for the amount we want.”

“Our trick will be mixing hot lye water and oil together into a paste. That paste will solidify into a lump which you can cut into smaller squarish lumps. These are known as bars of soap, which you can then use to wash yourself with.

It will become a commodity which our tribe can trade to other tribes, once they appreciate the benefits of washing. The way to sell it to them is to tell the females that it will make them look and smell more attractive to their man, and it will also help prevent them getting infections from cuts and scrapes. That can be important for surviving childbirth. All women must be washed clean with previously boiled water before childbirth, and everyone attending them must similarly be washed clean in advance, particularly their hands. That can save the lives of mothers and children. Do you get the idea?”

“Yes, Chief. I do not fully understand the reasoning, but I believe you know what you are doing. It is an impressive plan. Will we have to use this soap ourselves, and not just when bearing a child? It might make us smell different and not be recognised.”

“Gomla, a bad odour is not a good marker for identity. You should know that it is more dangerous NOT to wash with soap, should you get a cut or scratch, I can tell you. Your Chief intends to wash with soap: a lot!”

“Oh. Okay, If you will use it, so will I. I want to please my Chief, and give him healthy sons.”

“Excellent, but healthy sons AND daughters; both are valuable as people. Once you girls are clean, I will be in a position to help you please me, by making a start on children for the tribe, assuming that is what you would like to do.”

She giggled at his statement. It was a statement by the Chief, so it was a statement of power, but also an invitation to increased status.

“I and my sister and cousin will all be happy to please our Chief in that way. Will we be wives, or purely concubines?”

“You start out as concubines, and my present wives will determine whether you will become wives to me. A Chief’s wives all have to be able to live amicably with each other, so that more exalted status is up to you in many ways. Whether as wives or concubines, mothers of my children will be respected in my tribe.”

“I will be willing to reach that status, Chief.”

“Another matter: We shall have to make our own cloth. Do you know how to do that?”

“Oh. You need a loom of some kind. Ask your wives to look into that question, Chief.”

John took his dagger over to the dead man, to cut out the fatal bolt, which was deeply embedded in the man’s flesh. He wiped the bolt with the man’s tunic, and made a mental note to clean the used bolts thoroughly.

“Before we proceed, I have two questions. First, are any of you still virgins? Were you sexually assaulted? And what part of the day are we at? This cloudy weather confuses me, as it is not like my home country where I can tell the time by the position of the sun.”

“Chief, I am happy to report that I and Gerva are still virgins. Gimla has played with a boy and might not be a virgin any more, but that was a while back, and she still bleeds each month, so he didn’t get her pregnant, whatever she was up to with him.

The men who captured us had not got around to violating us. They spent most of their time, when they stopped to eat or pee or shit, arguing about who would get which girl, as none of them wanted to share their prize with the others. They asked us if there were any hunters in the forest, so that these men could be avoided, and we admitted ‘no, just one old man and his two daughters who had left the tribe yesterday’. That stupid mistake made them interested. They decided to seek out the old man and take his daughters as well, before fucking us. I was sorry when I heard that, but it seems that their plan failed, fortunately for us.”

“It did, but I suggest you do not tell Numa and Noma that piece of information, for their father was killed as a result of you blabbing about them. You have to realise that careless talk can cost lives. It is a fact that you will have to learn fully, if you want to be liked in our tribe, so note it well. What about the time of day?”

“Oh, yes. At this time of year, it is now late afternoon, around time for the evening meal if we can have one. As it is the season of long days, it gets dark much later.”

“In that case, help me strip that body and take whatever weapons we can find. We need to get back to Numa and Noma.”

“Numa and Noma? The old man’s daughters? That’s who you spoke of? They are your wives now?”

“They are, by their own choice. Do you know them?”

“Yes, they are from the same tribe, the Farfarers. They are nice girls, too nice to stay in our tribe ... sorry, THAT tribe. What is the name of OUR tribe, Chief? I think you said it earlier, but my attention was wandering at the time.”

“It is John’s Tribe, and I tell you that it will later become known as the best tribe to belong to, ever.”

All three girls looked at the new Chief in awe as he made that prediction with such confidence. This was a man with a vision; worth following. They all immediately decided they wanted to bear his children, the children of a powerful Chief.

John helped them strip anything useful from the guard’s body, then said, “What do we do with the bodies of our enemies? How do we dispose of them?”

“If lost in battle, their tribe collects them for burial. If he is a stranger, a wanderer or a bandit, we leave the body for the wild animals to feed on. We leave this one once he has been stripped. All three smelled like animals, but worse,” Gomla decreed, deriding the men. John nodded his acceptance and agreement with their assessment, and the females continued removing the dead man’s disgusting clothes, while John inspected the weapons.

It was not much of an armoury. Half a dozen newly made wooden spears, a short handled club, and several sharp obsidian knives that the others had left behind with him. The blades were sharp like the other daggers, by the look of them; with carved bone handles, but well made. John asked the girls about the clothes, “Can we make use of this terrible clothing?”

Gomla grudgingly admitted, “Perhaps, as cloth pieces and skins, if we can get it all cleaned up. He shit himself as he died: I can smell it.”

John adopted his Chiefly role. “Right. Get some leaves and wipe off what you can, then roll it all up in a bundle for carrying and later washing. If we pass a stream on our way, you can have a go at cleaning them up a little. It should reduce the smell at least. The clothes will do as a basic resource until I can provide fresh skins for curing. I don’t know how we will make new clothes such as you are wearing; that will need a weaving loom which we don’t possess. We need to get back to the campsite. We walk to our tribe’s home base in the morning.”

John was more confident of his route as they headed back to the campsite, and led his newly acquired harem there in about half an hour.

As he neared the clearing, he called out, “Numa, your Chief comes, with more members for the tribe!”

The tent erupted with the two sisters, ready to welcome him home. They stopped abruptly as they spotted the additional girls, then squealed in delight at recognition.

“Gomla, Gimla and Gerva: welcome to our tribe. We have a good Chief. Are you well after your ordeal? Not injured?”

Gomla took up the reply. “We are fine now, Numa. Your husband rescued us, and killed the man who was guarding us. We know we are now part of John’s Tribe, and have to pleasure our Chief.”

Numa put on the superior grace of a Chief’s wife.

“Welcome indeed. I am the First Wife of our tribe. Had you been ravished by your abductors?”

Gomla smiled at her. “Not yet, Numa. We are looking forward to that from your husband, if he can tear himself away from pleasuring himself with you two.”

Numa understood the reply and smiled back.

“You will get your turn, Gomla, but only when Noma and I have finished with him. He promises to be a great husband, and is ours for tonight. You three can be on watch for unwanted visitors.”

John remonstrated with the girls, “Ladies, we have priorities, and the first is the burial ceremony for Numa and Noma’s father. What was the name of that brave gentleman?”

“He was Deverax; an elder of the tribe, and a former hunter, so worthy of a good burial!”

“The body has been prepared in accordance with ritual?”

“It has, as best we can, and we have said the words of departure over our dear father. We need to select a suitable burying place for his body, where it will not be disturbed.”

“I understand, but remember, he as a person is not there any more; it is just his body that is left behind when his spirit moved to a better place, for eternity. We will all get there eventually, but we must make our time here worthwhile. Our spirit has to be able to report that we behaved well towards others, and did our best for our family and tribe. We must find a burial site with deep soil and well away from a watercourse.”

The searched around, but decided, with so much forest all around, that a slightly more elevated corner of the clearing, away from rocks, would do the job. John gave the spot his blessing, after checking that it was distant enough from tree roots to be practical. The trees would get the benefit much later, for the ground seemed soft.

Digging the hole turned out to be easier than expected once the turf had been cut with a dagger and stripped off. They all took turns at disturbing the soil with the butts of the new spears, then everyone mucked in to scoop handfuls of soil out of the hole. With so many hands on the task, it went well. John remembered to instruct them to heap the scooped soil near the grave, for infilling once the body was interred. He decreed that three feet deep was enough for one body, and stood in the trench to measure it against his leg, He reckoned his hip joint could be the measuring point, and the girls were glad to agree, for digging was hard work.

Once the grave was prepared to John’s satisfaction, he got everyone to hold part of the body – arms and legs, to share the weight and make the carrying easier. When they got to the grave, John got the girls to lay down their burden at the side of the grave, and he stepped down inside it. He grabbed hold of the dead man’s shoulders, asking the girls to raise the remainder to give him purchase to pull the body into the grave. That allowed him to lay the head and torso down, face uppermost, and he climbed out again. He authorised the girls to carefully lower the legs and with John’s help, the body was soon flat in the grave, looking serene. He quickly looked for some large leaves, and covered the man’s face as a mark of honour.

John now began his funeral oration.

“Earth Mother, or whoever is in charge of the spirits of the dead, please accept the body of this esteemed elder named Deverax; a man who gave his life while fighting to protect his family. That is a true sacrifice worthy of the spirit world. We, his daughters and their new tribe, will remember his sacrifice, and we trust that you will accept his spirit into the new life that you can offer him. Make his spirit life even more rewarding than his earthbound life was, for he deserves that accolade.”

John bowed his head as he concluded, and after a long pause, looked up again.

“Girls, time to place the soil back into the grave, gently and with reverence. Once the body has been ceremoniously overlain with soil, we can shovel the rest of the dirt in more quickly with our feet, as the rites will have been correctly observed.”

Once enough soil had been pushed into the grave cut to fill it, there was some topsoil left over, so John ordered, “Stand on the soil of the grave to push it down and harden it, then the remainder can be added on top. We will come back at a later time to erect at the head end a grave marker with his name and designation, and a layer of stones on top to indicate the location of his grave.”

When all was complete, he ordered, “Now we all go to the tent and see what we have in the way of food. I might have to go on a hunt for something to eat.”

Numa assured him that there was enough for everyone to have a meal, although it was not much more than a vegetable porridge, but filling none the less. There had been a pot on the fire, simmering away for hours, that Numa had added water to from time to time to stop it drying out. She added some herbs to the concoction before dishing it out on wooden plates, to be eaten using a wooden spoon and a flat pusher utensil, and it was indeed filling for all of them. John was surprised that there were enough spoons, but she explained that the spares normally allowed use of different spoons for several days before washing them, if there was no handy stream. The shortage of pusher utensils meant some using their knives for that task.

After they had eaten, John commented, “I shall have to go hunting tomorrow before we leave for home.”

“Home?” All the girls wanted to know. “Where is that?”

John told them, “It is a cave about four or five hours travel from here, with a grassy clearing in front of it, and a stream running past at the bottom of the clearing. To me it seemed an ideal spot, but you girls will be able to see it for yourselves some time tomorrow. Tonight I have to make love to my wives, and perhaps later to my other women, if time and energy permit.”

Numa declared, “Husband, you were wanting us to wash first, to make us clean enough for you to mate us. Have you changed your mind?”

“Unfortunately, Numa, we have to make the soap before we can wash with it. That will take time, so when we get home, it will be a simple wash with water in the stream instead of a thorough cleaning of our bodies. We shall be forced to make love with our bodies almost as they are, for the present.”

Numa smiled at him. “I don’t mind,” she offered. “It is what I am used to, with my late husband.”

He returned her smile. “Do you want privacy while we make love?”

“Privacy? What for? I want the other girls to see me making love with my husband, the Chief of our tribe. I will be proud to do so. It will give them clues on what to expect.”

“Okay. Girls, we have to be up early in the morning, so it is time for bed. Make all your preparations for sleeping. We only have my wives’ tent, so make do as best you can. Numa and I have some loving to attend to.”

He took Numa by the hand, and led her inside. “Which is your sleeping place, my wife?”

“This is it, husband, but it is Noma’s sleeping place as well, so she will be joining us shortly.”

“Then she will get a lesson in lovemaking, my dear.”

Numa stripped off her clothes, went down on her hands and knees and thrust her bottom upwards, in preparation for rear entry. John patted her enticing behind, and told her to turn over. “I like to see the face of who I am fucking, Numa.”

He explained the mechanics of the missionary position, though he could not describe it as such: the words would make no sense. As a married woman, she knew about sex and what its operation was, at least according to tribal custom, so when he began stroking her labia and clit, to stimulate her, this surprised her, almost shocked her.

“My man never did this!”

“Then he was a failure at lovemaking, Numa. A woman should be able to enjoy sex as much as the man.” She was amazed at this peculiar notion of John’s.

He proceeded to show what he meant, giving her an orgasm and then another before he even inserted his penis. “I might have done more, but not until we are both clean, my dear wife.”

As he gently pistoned inside her now damp vagina, she gasped, “This kind of fucking I like, John. Can you go faster?”

“I was taking it slow until you wanted more, my love. Is this what you want?”

He pumped more strongly, faster and faster, and she soon orgasmed again. “Oh! Oh, yes, that is it!”

He continued until he fired into her, and they fell together on the furs. He remained in her as she held him tight. “That was wonderful, husband. Will it always be like this?”

“Who knows, Numa? That will very much depend on you, and on you allowing the others to have a turn with me. It all takes energy, and I have only so much energy each night.”

She went silent then whispered in his ear, “You speak wisely, John. You must show them all over several nights, how to get pleasure from a man, and they will never want to leave you. Show Noma next, once you are ready.”

John slipped out of her, and gave Numa a tender cuddle to show his feelings before turning to Noma, who had settled beside them and was looking awe-struck.

“Noma? Are you ready to become a woman with me?”

“I am, my husband. Show me what made my sister so happy.”

John climbed over to her and lay on top of her smaller but still very nubile body. “If I am too heavy for you, Noma, just let me know by saying ‘enough’. We can switch to another position.

“No, John, you are not too heavy; not now anyway. Thank you for asking. Back in our tribe, men just take a woman whenever they want sex, without considering what she might like. That is what Numa says, and it scared me. Are you going to play with my sex parts as you did with Numa?”

“I am. I think you will like it,” and he demonstrated what he said. She was soon gasping out an orgasm like Numa, then said, “Put your thing in me, husband. Make me a woman.”

“Your first time may be sore, Noma,” he warned.

“I know; I have been told, but it has to be done to make me a true woman. Will you do it now?”

“Very well. I will check to see if it will be easy or difficult before I thrust.”

His finger check suggested little resistance, so he charged ahead, and with one “Ow!” from her, he was in and seated well. He held that position, saying, “Tell me when the pain is lessened enough, Noma, and we can continue.”

She paused to think, then insisted, “Now is fine, John. That was less pain than I expected. This is very good of you, to allow a woman to enjoy the sex. Make me feel good again, please. Can you do that before you shoot in me and give me a baby?”

“I will do my best, my wife, but babies do not always come from one fuck. It can take many times.”

She exclaimed, “Good. I hope it takes many times like this, to put your baby into my belly.”