Chapter 23

“Now, Javan, tell me about these pirates? What do you know about them? Are they from this area, or are they outsiders of some kind? Have they been seen before?”

Javan started to tell his story.

When they appeared off our village, their big ship appeared to be be in distress, for they were having trouble steering it. One of our fishing boats went out to see if they could help, and our boat skipper was welcomed aboard.

He offered his advice, and it quickly appeared that they were almost complete novices at sailing boats. He offered to give them some tuition, at a price, and they immediately agreed to his suggestion. They offered him one of their spare sails as a fee, and he accepted this as fair. They stayed for the next two weeks while he taught them all the ins and outs of sailing. The size makes little difference in the basics, and that was all they wanted. They refused the offer of a sailing master to go with them. All they wanted was to be able to sail the ship by themselves.

It seemed odd, but he saw no harm in them wanting to be self-sufficient. It was their ship, after all, or it seemed to be.

Someone else thought it odd that they should have a large ship and not be able to sail it. Such training is essential if you don’t want to wreck your new ship, so this perceptive guy thought they had bought it without getting training first. It never occurred to any of them that they had stolen it. After all, why steal something you can’t make proper use of?

It turned out, as we eventually discovered, that they were part of a land army that had lost a major battle, and were on the retreat. They thought that grabbing a ship and sailing off with it would solve all their problems; getting away from their enemy, escaping fast by using a ship, and then they could use the ship for any scavenging they fancied. They called it ‘living off the country’ but it was no different from stealing.

Stealing of course ended up with fighting the owners of the food and materials, so they found themselves killing many of the tribespeople, and some bright spark suggested taking the survivors and selling them as slaves. Having done this with one small village, they repeated it with the next two. None of the villages were prepared for such an onslaught until the pirates arrived at this one and found it empty.

In case the in habitants were just away on a fishing trip, they left a party to wait and capture the fishermen when they came back. What puzzled them was that the village was entirely empty: No invalids, mothers with babies, no old folk too frail to go far. It was almost as if the villagers had vanished into thin air.

It gave a few of them goose-pimples at the creepiness of it. The volunteers to stay there for a few days insisted in having a few girls for entertainment, and the boss – who now called himself Captain – agreed, and so they were dropped off.

You can imagine the shock when we finally got back, after mysterious explosions aboard, to find that our party had vanished just as completely as the villagers. It was positively frightening!”

John interrupted, “Tell me about these explosions, Javan.”

“I was below when it happened, but the noise was terrible indeed, coming from near the bow. I though we had hit a submerged rock and the ship was breaking up, but it seems the explosion was up on top, not at sea level.

Then another explosion went off, this time near the stern, and on the other side of the ship, so I assumed the ship was under attack. I sneaked on deck, feeling safe as a cook is regarded as a valuable commodity, and found that there was no enemy ship in sight; no ships at all!

The explosions had started a few fires, but they went out by themselves, as there was no continuing burning. It was like a sheet of intense flame had hit the ship, then once it was gone, there was nothing to keep the fire going. Even the wind was almost gone, so the flames went out.

We were left with a ship that was severely damaged fore and aft, but with no-one able to assess the damage without beaching her. As a fisherman I was able to suggest to one of the pirate crew that this was the best solution, and I was taken to the Captain and forced to repeat what I had said.

He agreed with my opinion, saying that as a fisherman I knew what I was talking about, and ordered the ship to be steered for the fishing village (He didn’t know at that point about his men vanishing). I suggested he replace the tattered sail, to give him more control over the ship’s movement, but he said, “To my mind, it is easier to get the rowers and the oars in use: they are easy to control.”

So the rowers were summoned and the sail removed. The captain got his way and the ship got under way, and so we got here.

When he ordered a shore party to be put in to the village to collect the others, I was pulled aside and told I would cook for them if the villagers were obstreperous and refused to feed us. We weren’t to know that the village was a ghost village again.”

John commented, “A fine story, Javan. I can see it is true, as far as you know it.”

“What? You know more?”

“Indeed. A messenger was sent to me from the village, asking for help. By the time I got here, the villagers had executed their escape plan., and were far out at sea. In their place was the garrison unit, sitting round the camp fire in the village.

I appeared from the dark and challenged them, and moved to the beach side of their fire. With the limited light, all around them was dark, so they did not see my warriors collecting behind them. When they refused to surrender to me, and started to attack, my warriors tackled them and speared the lot. We took them and their boat inland, and buried them, leaving nothing to show what had happened.”

“You had warriors with you? Where did they go?”

“They had other duties back at the tribe, and they had the rescued girls to take back with them. I had to discuss the whole thing with the messenger as well so we all went back to the tribe. Once I had the full details regarding the fishing village, I and Fresno worked out a plan of attack.”

Javan snorted, “You are not trying to tell me all this was down to you and Fresno? I don’t believe you!”

“No, I told you my warriors were here at one point. They went back to my tribe, and the rest was me and Fresno. What’s your problem?”

“You mean to claim that you had warriors with you and didn’t keep them to help you? You are not that stupid, surely!”

“True, but several of the warriors are pregnant, so I didn’t like to use them too much.”

“How do you mean, pregnant warriors?”

“You know, the usual way women get pregnant. Anyway, these female warriors did a good job, then went back to the tribe for their other duties and responsibilities. There were a couple of men among my warrior band, but they also had duties back at the tribe. My warriors in normal circumstances can outfight most male warriors, I will have you know: I trained them.”

“What about the explosions on the boat? That was not you!”

“It was. I used a throwing device and the missiles went bang on arrival. It was an unusual situation, not likely to be repeated, so I don’t have my throwing machine with me now.”

“So where did the bags of beans in the huts come from? They surely weren’t just lying around as the pirates thought.”

“No. Fresno thought up the idea, and we spent hours collecting the beans, wearing protective hand-wear to stop us being affected. We buried the sacks of beans in storage pits inside the huts. If the pirates wanted to steal them and use them for food, that was up to them. After all, we hid them; we didn’t offer the beans.”

The man looked at John in amazement, at all the advance planning to avoid fighting, and how to let the pirates kill themselves.

“You did all this to avoid fighting?”

John retorted, “A wise man once said, ‘the best battle to win is the one where you don’t have to fight’. I just followed that dictum. I think it is a great plan to use.”

“You know something? You are weird, most revered High Chief.”

John could see the conflicting emotions in the man, so he thought to revert to asking questions.

“Javan, this army that they were part of: Who are they and where do they come from?”

“I don’t know, as I think I said before. I can only go from what I overheard, and they didn’t talk much about the past. I got the impression that they were not highly regarded in their army. It was too easy for them to slip into piracy, rather than act in an honourable manner.”

“A valid point,” John agreed. “But did they appear to be a tiny part of a huge army, or a reasonable-sized portion of a smaller army? You surely got an impression of how they saw themselves.”

“An impression? yes I did. I felt that they did not expect to be pursued by their former colleagues, as they might be by a vengeful and powerful army leader. If they did have such a worry, they wouldn’t feel like doing this in the first place. It seemed to be more like a fairly strong part of their army, breaking off to do their own thing, like part of a tribe breaking away to form a new tribe. Either the rest of the army didn’t have the resources to chase them, or thought it was useless or pointless. After all, if a man wants to leave the tribe, forcing him to stay doesn’t achieve much. He will probably do little or nothing, just for the hell of it.”

“That is a useful insight, Javan. Thank you. Just like all the other episodes I told you about, knowing your enemy is the most important factor. When you know him, you have an idea of how he will react to events, and thus how you can counteract his activity. As a breakaway group, these pirates would not go back for help if attacked by another force. That would be too much like running back to mother, saying you were hit by another boy and ran away!

That conclusion means that their total loss is not going to be registered by the remaining army, of whatever size. They will simply be assumed to have gone off somewhere, far away.”

“But you don’t know about the parent army they broke away from!”

“No, but I know the pattern that is emerging. This so-called army is not under full control by a strong leader. I would guess it is being managed by a small group of leaders who have trouble agreeing. In such circumstances, a breakaway group cannot be controlled or brought back under the wing of the leaders. It would be embarrassing for the leaders to admit they lost control of a section of their army. If the missing section is remarked upon, they can claim that the group were sent off on a special mission that will take a long time to complete successfully. That explanation will work for weeks if not months, and then it can be admitted that the mission failed through lack of discipline; thus reinforcing the need for discipline in the ranks.”

“You think this is what happened? Are you some kind of a soldier yourself, to be able to work this out?”

“Exactly so. I was a trained soldier, and as such I know how the military mind works. My posited scenario will be not too far off the reality, in my opinion.

The army will number less than a thousand, and not be very well organised. I suspect no decent baggage train of supplies, so they have to live off the land, stealing from those they defeat. That does not endear you to the locals, I can tell you! Unless they leave a garrison behind – and they don’t have the numbers to do that - the minute they move on, the locals will scarper to keep well away in case the army returns. The food supplies for the army will remain problematical, and the more time spent finding food supplies, the less time your men have for fighting more battles, and less advance you can make.

For any army, only a small percentage do the fighting. The rest work on supplies and munitions, keeping the organisation working, sorting out weapons that need to be replaced or repaired, providing replacement clothing and other gear that the soldiers need to continue functioning smoothly, and providing the transport capacity for carrying all the things that an army needs. You need scouts to tell you what lies ahead, you need planners – what used to be called a routemaster – to work out what route to take to avoid hills and dense forests, swamps and rivers; you need engineers to build bridges over streams and rocky gorges, to allow your men to pass on easily; and so it continues. You are lucky if one in three of your force are actually fighting men, unless they are a small elite force, highly trained in many disciplines. This lot are anything but that!”

“But are they coming this way?” queried Javan.

“That is a vital question that merits an answer, but I haven’t got one. We have seen bands of wanderers, who I suspect as being displaced tribal warriors who failed to stop the invading army, and are running in this direction, meeting other tribes and doing their own damage, but that does not mean the invading army is coming this way. The wanderers may simply be moving to one side to get away from the army’s direction of progress.

It is not easy to predict. What we need is intelligence; the sort of data I got from you.”

Javan mused “In that case, what you need is Corvo.”

“Who or what is Corvo?”

“A man I met on board. He was a hunter/warrior for another tribe, and got captured when he was knocked out during a fight. He was aboard for some time, yet he was never to be seen when the pirates wanted anything done or anyone to do it. I never saw him tied to a bunk; he was always elsewhere when they tied us down. I am sure I once saw him with a knife: a captive with a knife! Corvo is an invisible man; one you can never see if he doesn’t want you to see him.”

“That sounds like just the man I want, to send on a scouting trip.”

“Well, your best bet is to go aboard and ask for him. Announce that you have a scouting job for him, and he will eventually appear.”

“He is that good?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. I am a fisherman, not a hunter, so I would not know for certain, but is what I think, High Chief.”

“Hmm ... I think I will get Fresno to pass the word around ... no, dammit, he is off to light his signal fires. I have to do it myself. That means rowing back to the ship, so I had better get started. First, I have to load the kills aboard the boat, to take it out to the ship.”

Javan helped transfer the meat from the travois to the boat and stow it to allow John to have the boat balanced, then they pushed it out into the water. John looked at Javan and his lady, and asked, “Well?”

The newly married couple elected to remain and get to know each other, one way and another, so John rowed himself back to the ship and tied up again.

He climbed aboard without any announcement, and found the current inhabitants had been busy, collecting and dumping overboard the former crew, and digging out what foods the former crew had hoarded for themselves. Clearly they were preparing for a feast of their own, and John saw this as a normal reaction to being freed from bondage.

He did nothing to interfere, but sought out those who did not seem engrossed in preparing to feast, and told them there was a load of meat in his boat, ready for collection. This started a stampede to get to the boat and bring up the cargo. There was a clear enthusiasm for fresh meat. He presumed there was a ship’s galley for preparing food somewhere aboard, for within a few minutes there was a smell of cooking wafting up from below.

The smell started an interest in getting out plates and eating utensils, waiting for the volunteer cooks, probably the womenfolk, to bring up the newly cooked meat. John left them to it, for his need was a lot less than theirs.

Later, John started quizzing the folk aboard, asking them if they knew where a man called Corvo was to be found. In most cases he got a blank stare, or “Corvo? Who? Never heard of him.” One man though, volunteered, I think he is organising his former tribe for getting home again. Try over in that corner where there are people collecting.”

John wandered over and heard something of the conversation. He soon identified Corvo as the agitator at the centre of the group – all men – and forced his way among them.

The man quickly realised that there was a stranger among his people, and asked John, “Who are you, sir? You are not one of our people?”

“No, I am a visitor to these parts. Was your tribe a fishing village?”

“Yes, and that other stranger was trying to get us to stay with a village here. We would prefer to go home.”

“But do you have a village to go back to? Resources there? Are your huts still standing? Have your dead been buried yet, or do you have to go back and gather up their bones after the scavengers have been at them? I would have thought making a new start here would be much preferable, all except for you. I want to employ your talents for the good of the whole district, if you are up to that sort of challenge.”

“Eh? What do you want from me? I am a hunter, I’ll have you know.”

“A hunter in a fishing village? Why?”

“A mere technicality. I was really there as a warrior, to help defend the tribe, but I failed; I had an accident.”

John turned back to the group and reminded them, “Cooked meat should be ready for you about now. I hope I brought enough to go around.”

That diverted their attention from him as there was a sudden move towards the galley area, leaving Corvo and John to talk. This allowed John to privately broach his plans to Corvo.

“I am looking for a brave and bold hunter-cum-warrior to act as a scout and tell me where the invading army is, what they are doing, its size in fighting men, and how capable they are as soldiers. Could you do such a noble task, or is it too much for you to envisage, as a fisher-man?” John finished this with what was almost a sneer, and the hunter/warrior reacted as he hoped.

“I am not afraid of anything, I’ll have you know! I also can live off the land as I go. But I know nothing of your so-called task.”

“So perhaps we can get down to talking about real problems and their solutions. Come with me for a more private talk, Corvo.”

Persuading the man to come to a spot away from the other people, John went on, “I want to bring the fight to the invader, but I know nothing about this invading army. I need a reliable and intelligent warrior to go and scout out where they are, what they are, and what they are doing, or hope to do. In order to resist an attacker, you need to know your enemy and how he thinks and acts in real life conditions. My initial assessment, from minimal information, is that they are more a marauding band rather than a properly organised army. However, I need to know more about them to confirm that surmise, and that is where you come it. I have heard you being praised for your ability to stay out of sight, and that is a great talent for a scout collecting information. I do not want a man who thrives on bravado, but instead I want a self-effacing warrior to whom getting a job done properly is more important than talking about it. Softly, softly, is the key.

You have to be able to get close enough to establish the facts, but still able to evade the enemy and get back with this vital information.

I could do this myself, but I have too many commitments back here to spare the time. Are you able, and are you willing, to help me?”

Corvo regarded John with scepticism. “You say you could do this yourself? How?”

“I was trained in such techniques by an army in another place, far away from here. Observation and data collection are tools that can assist you in winning a war. In another war, warriors were sent to land on a beach from the sea, during the night, with one task: to find out what the beach was like: was it sand, shingle, a rocky surface? Was it steeply sloping or a shallow gradient; and were there any other obstacles in the way of making a landing there? They stayed out of sight of the defenders, gathered their facts, and reported back on the conditions found. That enabled a great army to later land on that beach, win a long battle and later a war. It was all because a few men accomplished data collection without meeting a single enemy warrior. Had the enemy known they were there, he would have strengthened his defences at that beach, so the ability to stay out of sight was as vital as any fighting ability.

Do you now see what I need and why I need it?”

“I do. Your story has the ring of truth about it. Were you there?”

“No, it happened many years before I was born, but we learned to respect those brave men who performed that action without fanfare. They were unsung heroes of their time, and I am looking for another hero to do a similar job.”

[author: the reference is to the D-Day beaches in 1944]

“Okay, you have sold me on your idea. I like it, and I know I can find your information for you. It will take some time, though. Listening for facts takes a lot of waiting.”

“I do not have a timetable. The timing will be determined by what you find, and the more you can find, the better; BUT do not outstay your time there, or someone will give you away. Get the data, note it down if you can write, or memorise it if you can’t write, and get it back to me. Incomplete data received is better than all data lost by carelessness.”

“What is ‘write’?” he wanted to know.

“If you have to ask, you cannot write, but you can draw a sketch on dried hide of where the enemy army is staying, what direction they are travelling in, and what the countryside they are facing is like – hills, rivers, bogs, rough rocky ground or sandy ground. Such ground conditions affect how an army can move, if at all.

I also would like to know what weapons they are using. If you recognise the weapons, how many of the enemy are carrying them? If it is some unusual weapon they army have, make me a drawing of the weapon so that I can work out what it is. It might be a giant bow and arrow, or a stone thrower, or a fire projector of some kind.”

“You talk of weird weapons I have never heard of. Are you sure you do not know this enemy?” Corvo sounded suspicious, so John explained.

“I was taught about what clever devices had been used in the past, for most weapons are developments from earlier weapons. The design gives me an indication of capability. Any drawing you can make of any weapon will be invaluable to me.”

“What do I get out of this?”

“Apart from the excitement, the later renown as a hero, and the admiration of the ladies, you will be a revered man among the tribes who will be saved by your actions. I should think you will easily find a mate or two before long. Do you have a mate at the moment?”

“No. My mate was killed during the attack. I was distracted, trying to save her from harm, and was hit on the head by something that felled me. When I came to my senses, she was lying there dead, and I was captured before I could do anything further. That is when I claimed to be a hunter for the village. I have been looking for any chance to get my revenge. You beat me to it, with your poison beans.”

“There you are, then. Acting as my scout will give you your revenge on the enemy army. Your exploits will lead to their downfall.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I wanted to kill the man who killed my woman, but I never knew which one it was. He is dead now, anyway, among the rest, but killing a lot more will be gratifying. I will do your scouting for you, sir. How may I call you?”

“I am known as High Chief John. I am in overall command of two tribes ruled by female Chiefs who are doing a grand job. You can just call me John, for simplicity and security.”

“What is this ‘security’? What are you making secure?”

“it is a word which can change its meaning after a while. In this case, it means keeping our own information secure, by not using full, informative titles around other people whom you don’t want to know such things.”

“So why didn’t you want my fisher tribe to know your title? You kept quiet about that when you pulled me aside.”

“It was not so much the title but the fact that I am an important or powerful man. If they thought that, they might be asking for more and more things that I am not in a position to give them. If they don’t know who I am, they will treat me like everyone else; which I much prefer.”

“I get it. A touch of cowardice, if you ask me.”

John ignored this jibe.

“When you come back with information, come to this fisher tribe, and get them to send a runner to find me. I could be in any of several places.”

“Do you want me to take anything with me; any special weapons for example?”

“Not really. No, I have suddenly changed my mind. I will give you my survival knife. It is a weapon from another place, mostly made of metal – you may have heard of copper tools, but this is much, much harder, stronger, and as sharp as flint. Inside the handle here” John demonstrated - “is a lodestone that points to the north with its little handle inside. You can use it to move in any direction consistently; just always have the north arrow pointing in the one direction away from your planned direction. It works even if there is no sun or stars to use for direction finding.”

Corvo gazed at the long-handled knife wonderingly, as John showed it to him.

“This is pure magic,” he said. “How did you come to have this wondrous device: a knife with a direction finder inside it?”

“Oh, I forgot to say that also in the handle is a fire starter kit. You strike the steel rod against the other rod, and you get a spark.”

“More wonders. Will you not tell me?”!

“I cannot; or rather, if I told you the truth, you would call it magic, so what would be the point? Just accept it as a gift from another land. There are no more that I can hand over, so care for it assiduously. Tell no-one about it. Treat it as more important than your life, almost; I want you to return.”

“I will do that, High Chief John.”

“Then allow me to row you ashore, then you can choose your direction, and set off to discover where the enemy are to be found.”

He did so, and when on the beach and ready to part he said, “Good hunting, Corvo,” and handed him the knife.

Corvo accepted the knife and shook hands with John before leaving on his extensive mission. John returned to the ship to see what was needed next. He was left with sorting out the groups Fresno had identified. He proved for himself that there were many talents to be found among them. Speaking with one group of men, he was told that they had responsibility for the women and children.

John tried to look surprised, and informed them that some tribes worked on the basis of men and women being treated as equals. When that shocked them he said that in at least one tribe, the majority of the trained warriors were women.

“Gentlemen, in the country I come from, men and women being treated as equals is a common situation, so you should not remain shocked for long at this revelation. Word is already getting around the tribes that women and men should be treated fairly. In another tribe, I have heard of a woman training as a Maker, assisting the present Maker until she is ready to take on the full responsibility for making things for the tribe.

Where there are now female warriors, there is a requirement for additional spears and daggers, so the Maker is busy in that line.”

“But,” complained one man, “Who is to train these warriors, so that they can become as effective as men?”

John smiled sweetly as he replied, “In my tribe, I trained them myself. Recently a small group called at this fishing village with me, and they despatched the entire pirate landing party without loss to themselves. Can your warriors do that?”

The man stared at John, unwilling to believe such a claim. John told him, “Show me any fighting man and I will fight him bare-handed, just to show what can be done.”

The man took on a gleeful smile, and called out, “Kendo, can you come and show this man how well you can fight?”

At his urging, a big brute of a man came forward. John wondered how he had been captured, and said so. His promoter said, “The pirates said if he surrendered, his family would be left untouched. They kept their word, as it would be dangerous to do otherwise.”

He then said to Kendo, “This man says he can defeat anyone, barehanded. Would you like to prove him wrong?”

Kendo grinned and nodded wordlessly, advancing on John. Everyone else took a careful step or two back, to make space for what they expected to be a short fight. John stood his ground, but crouched lower, with his hands outstretched towards Kendo, who seemed puzzled by this stance.

He advanced to grab John and throw him, but John stepped closer, turned and grabbed Kendo’s arm with both hands, and assisting his forward motion, threw the big man over his shoulder.

Kendo landed on his back with a “Whoof!” and shook his head to clear it before turning on his front to stand up. He swivelled round to re-engage, and John pulled him forward by one arm, swept a leg to one side, and Kendo ended up on his face on the deck this time.