Chapter 44

“I don’t know, but I can at least try! Will you lend me a crossbow so that I can study it?”

“I can do that. We found a few more in the store room, so one can be sent to you to work from. Do you know the size of the standard arrow we use for our long bows?”

“Yes, I have looked at them, and measured them against my leg, so I know what size the new crossbow should fire. Have you any objection to me using several materials for the bow?”

“How do you mean?”

“I may want to make part of the bow of horn, part of one wood, and part of another wood, for some sections have more pressure in specific directions, from my observations. Just let me test out my ideas, John.”

“You mean, a compound bow? I think that’s the term; no, wait: I mean composite bow ... composed of multiple materials. Whatever I mean, go ahead and test out your ideas. They are bound to be interesting.”

“Thanks, John.” He chuckled as he added, “My ladies were appreciative that you came along to make amends for me, and they showed me last night that all was well. Of course, now I have to make the same standard of latrine at the new campsite, but that’s life.

Have a safe journey back to your tribe.”

John left Brando, and returned to Chief Maranga’s hut to say farewell. She was busy in a discussion, so he waited outside until the talk was over. The man exiting stopped short when he saw John waiting, and immediately declared, “I apologise for you having to wait, High Chief. If I had known you were here, I would have postponed my talk with the Chief.”

John waved away this apology.

“No problem. I was not in a hurry, so I stayed and admired the scenery, though I hear you are about to move home.”

“Yes sir. Chief Maranga can tell you all you need to know about the move, but you should go in before the Chief asks why I have kept you waiting.”

John smiled at this, and commented, “Quite right. I had better get inside or I will be in trouble!”

Maranga welcomed John with her open arms, and whispered, “You can’t stay another night?”

He replied, “I would love to, but I am so busy all time. The contacts we made recently with the invader army means that I have to be at the cave when their messenger next comes, plus Numa is expecting me to examine their work on the walkway to the new latrine. I keep having to react to my wives’ expectations; and the contents of the store room we found will keep us all occupied for many days. Then I have to expand the archery training for my tribe’s warriors, as I expect to have to mount another night attack before long.

If you have a real need for me, Maranga, send a message and I will respond to it as quickly as I can. Keep an eye on Brando’s work on bows for me. He has good ideas there, but he also wants to produce a workable umbrella – a hide shield held overhead to protect a person from the rain. Test his ideas out for me, please. It has to be a practical device for you, one that you would be happy to use; that is the intention.”

“I will do that. Oh, the man who just left? He was one of the former Shaman’s followers. He was shocked at the man’s actions; says he never expected such a disaster to happen. He promises to let me know if any of the other confidants of the former Shaman have any ideas of rebelling against my control, but he thinks there will be none. Apparently they are all terrified at what High Chief John might do in retaliation!”

John exploded, “And they would be right to expect that sort of response! Mongo was just a friend; you are my wife, and my retribution would be terrible! Make sure he knows this. I actually met him outside and he seemed quite an affable fellow.”

“That was my impression as well. Why he would ever have been taken in by the Shaman I can’t see. At least we know where his allegiance was in the past, and if he wants to ingratiate himself with us, then fine; but we will keep our eyes open.”

“Is there anything else, my dear Maranga, or can we make a quick visit to your new campsite?”

She gathered her outer clothing about her, and taking John by the hand, she led him outside and spotting an elderly man coming towards her, called out, “Jango! Where is Balgo?”

Jango looked up. “Ah, Chief Maranga. Balgo is at the new site, checking on the hut building work. Did you want him back here?”

“No. I need to show High Chief John the new site, and I thought Balgo would be a good choice to show him around.”

“It is not very far, so I could take High Chief John there, if you are busy, Chief.”

“Are you fit enough do do that, Jango? You are getting on in years, you know.”

I can still walk well, young lady – Chief – so I am able to do that for you.”

She thanked him and before allowing John to go, asked, “Is any news about my nieces that are recuperating with your tribe?”

“I have been told nothing over the last few days, but the last I heard, they are all three of them recovering well. They talk and play around like any normal girls now, so their experience is not showing any lasting effects on them. Part of it will be the different surroundings, and part of it the support they get from all my wives – including yourself, even if it is normally at a distance. They know you love and care for them, and that makes a big difference.”

Maranga finally allowed John to leave, and he set off with Jango. Remembering when he last met the man, he asked, “Did your flooded hut get repaired, Jango?”

“No, it was too badly damaged. I moved in with my son’s family until I could get a new hut in the new campsite. Now, we can be on our way, as long as you don’t walk too fast for my old legs.”

John gave a short laugh and told him, “I shall enjoy taking a leisurely stroll, Jango. It makes a change from having to rush here, there, and everywhere.”

The distance to the new campsite was only a couple of miles, so John was pleased they had found a good spot so near to the old camp. Once again it was on a slight slope and by the look of things, they had only had to remove a couple of trees that were in the way. One large tree had been kept as the central nexus of the tribal with a large open area around it as a gathering place. The huts were constructed in a circle beyond that. It was noticeable that a larger hut was at the high part of the slope, and several large huts at the lower end.

John presumed the top one to be for the Chief, and the lower huts were workshops designed by Brando for the purpose. There was no stream running through the village this time. Instead, a stream which had been further away had been diverted to run down the side of the campsite, giving easy access to water without encouraging people to piss in it without thinking. Two strips had been left bare, one on each side, so John assumed the intention was to have two latrines. Whether it was one for each gender or merely extra convenience was not clear, but that would be up to Brando and his design team.

They found Balgo working with his hut builders at one of the workshops. He was explaining why the walls had to be stronger than those of houses.

“Brando makes things that are on occasion large and heavy, and he likes to lean them against the wall while he works on something else, so the wall has to be able to withstand such weight against it. That is why the wall has to be twice as thick and with a double reinforcement inside. Any wall here that you have failed to make double width has the be sorted so that it IS.

That is also the reason for the thicker roof timbers which rest on the wall. The roof timbers have to be tied into the top of the wall, not just resting on top. I don’t want to have to apologise to Brando for a defective workshop, so you men had better make sure it is NOT defective!”

He finally noticed his visitors standing to one side, watching this diatribe against substandard workmanship.

“Oh, hello Jango. Come to check up on me? Who is this with you? He looks vaguely familiar,”

“High Chief John, Balgo; don’t you remember him killing the Shaman?”

“Oh. Him? Yes, we were glad to see that Shaman get his comeuppance. Welcome to the Farfarers’ new camp, High Chief. What do you think of it so far?”

John bit back an automatic response to that question, and spoke after thinking.

“Rather impressive, Balgo. I like the choice of that large tree as a focal point. It will provide some shade for any tribal gathering as well. The huts seem well organised, and I presume well-built based on your insistence on high standards of construction. A good water supply, space for latrines to be dug, and strong workshops for all your future making tasks.”

“Thank you. You may not have noticed, but the huts have been built on a square plan. We adopted this design on a recommendation from your tribe’s experts, and it seems to have gone well, for it speeded up the construction time considerably. You have no concerns about the strength of the corners, do you?”

“Not if you build them right. You have to interlink the wattle panels where they meet, and that strengthens the connection. Did you do that?”

“Yes, we did. It was one of the points we were told about, but I wanted to be sure of the strength of these joins.”

“You should have no trouble with them, Balgo. Nice to see how well they look. Good work. Tell your men that I like what they have done for the tribe.

Now, do I have to go back to the present site to make my way back to my own tribe, or is there a shorter route I could take?”

Balgo thought for a moment, then oriented himself with the central tree and a hill in the distance.

“If you take a line midway between that hill and the tree, looking from here, that should get you to meet the usual pathway some way south from the old site. Do you think you can keep that direction?”

“Not a problem.” John fetched out his survival knife and opened the compass in the handle. Taking a sighting on the hill and then another on the tree, he split the two readings and mentally set his direction. “I have got the line now, so I can keep to that even without seeing the hill any more.”

Balgo squinted at the tiny compass. “What is that thing, High Chief?”

“it is a tiny version of the lodestone. Have you heard about such a stone; a stone that knows which way is north?”

“I have heard of such a wonder, but I didn’t know you could use it in that way.”

“Well, Balgo, if you fit a small piece on to a piece of wood, then float it in a gourd of water, the stone will swing the wood round so that the stone points north. Knowing where north is, you can point yourself in any other direction. All you have to do is keep the stone in sight and angle yourself away from it to the east or west, according to what you want. My lodestone is marked with many directions round the edge, so I can always head towards one point on my compass, as I call it.”

“An amazing tool, High Chief. Is it much used where you first came from?”

“It is, and it is a very helpful tool. Whether you are in a forest or in a desert, you can always point yourself in the right direction for your destination. It is the sort of device that Brando might be able to devise.”

John set off for home, wending his way through the forest, which was not very thick around here. It was simply a matter of avoiding any trees in the way, then resuming the direction needed. If he was a few yards off the line, it did not matter, as he would just encounter the trail a few yards one way or another.

Again, his trek was uneventful, just the occasional sounds of prey animals rustling through the nearby bushes where they were getting into hiding. He didn’t try to hunt any, for it was a long way to carry the kill home, and he did not think there was any shortage of meat at the cave.

Arriving shortly after the normal evening meal time, John expected to get some leftovers which would do him. Instead, a full meal had been set aside to be finished heating on his arrival, and he profusely thanked the cooks for their consideration.

As soon as he had finished eating, Chief Numa ordered him to get cleaned up at the stream, for she informed him that several of his wives had booked him for this night.

“These girls have waited long enough, John, so do your duty by them. I can wait until tomorrow; I don’t need to insist on priority. I have learned that a Chief’s duty includes not overstepping the mark at any time. A Chief has to show a concern for her people as much as possible, and this is one of those times.”

John’s eyebrows were raised, and he remarked, “My dear, you have surpassed all expectations I had of you as Chief. I was of the opinion that you would take many months to find your feet in the Chief’s footwear, but you have speeded up the whole process. I must kiss you in recognition of your success as our Chief,” and he did so at once. Then he went to clean himself up.

On his return to the cave, he noticed that the youngest children were being bathed in warm water before bedtime. Numa watched his surprise, and informed him, “Vickie and Sheila told me that your children should not be subjected to cold baths, especially in the evening. They also mentioned that the soap is more effective with warm water, so I agreed, and instituted the heating of water for this purpose. Our children will benefit from this practice once they are born. Note that adults do not have access to this warm water, for there is not enough to go round everyone, and I do not approve of the Chief’s family getting sole access to heated water.”

John patted Numa on the back as he said, “Another sign of a good Chief. Eventually we will get around to hot baths and showers for adults, but the children are the priority for now; you are right about that, Numa. I love you, woman!”

That got him a passionate kiss and arms hugging him close to her bosom. This got him thinking about an enclosed stove built out of stone and clay; like an oven but designed to heat water in a stone cauldron with a wooden lid to keep the heat in. The fire would need a rear chimney that passed through a trough like a wheel on its side with a central flue, so that all the smoke and hot air heated more water before going outside.

His head reminded him that the clay would have to be heat-resistant; a sort of fire-clay that would not break up under intense heating, but pass the heat through to the water above. He pushed these thought to the back of his mind for discussion with Raka, as she had a mind that was similar to Brando in its practical bent.

It would be sensible to get at least a prototype up and running before winter set in.

After a night of making energetic love to several horny wives, and another one first thing in the morning, John finally got washed, dressed and breakfasted.

Next, Numa wanted to show him the walkway they had built to the covered latrine. The walkway wasn’t covered, but was a firm surface to walk over to the latrine. They had excavated a shallow trench a few inches deep, then laid short two-inch thick lengths of wood branches crossways, filling the trench. Next, they had obtained clay from somewhere and packed it in between the stretches of wood. The path was also edged with longer lengths of the same wood. This made the pathway solid and also level, easy to walk on.

John congratulated her on the design and build, but she insisted that Raka be the one to get the kudos, as it was her idea to build it that way.

“Most of us would have just laid a track of pebbles from the stream, but Raka said that would uncomfortable to walk on, even wearing moccasins. For anyone with bare feet, their soles would soon hurt. The wood strips help to contain the packed clay, whereas with pebbles, the clay would wash away between them at the first heavy rain.”

“I like it,” enthused John. “That girl is worth her weight in copper.”

“Why?” asked Numa, who had no idea about copper, never mind gold.

“Just a figure of speech. Think of it as words of praise for her ingenuity.”

As they stood on the new path, they were distracted y a shout from the duty guard at the forest’s edge.

“Chief!”

Numa raised an arm in acknowledgement, and the guard continued, “A messenger from the fisher village, asking for High Chief John.”

John raised his own arm, and shouted back, “Send him up to the cave.”

At this, Numa and John turned round and walked back to the cave to welcome the messenger. The messenger was an early teenage boy, proud of being chosen to deliver an important message. He puffed his way up the slope, carefully avoiding the pen with the sheep. The locals kept thje dogs from challenging the stranger, not that the dogs were old enough to be a danger.

He recognised John from his position beside the Chief, and halted in front of him to catch his breadth. John said with a smile, “Take a moment to relax, young man. That will make it easier to deliver your message.”

The boy was grateful that the High Chief was so considerate. “Thank you, sir.” He took a few large breaths and steadied himself.

Chief Numa spoke next. “You didn’t need to run so fast, young man. The difference between you running hard, and taking things at a steady pace, is not significant, so not that for the future.”

“Yes, Chief,” he managed to say, again impressed at these chiefs. “I think I am ready now, sir.”

“Who is the message from, lad?”

“My Chief, sir. He says that Corvo has just arrived at the village aboard one of our boats. He was very sleepy so the Chief ordered him to sleep and that he would ask you to come to the village to get his report later. Mr Corvo was asleep before I left, sir.”

“Then that means we should not rush to be there; and also that there was no necessity to run so hard to get here with the message. Your efforts are appreciated all right, but work out beforehand what speed is needed for each message task. Got that?”

“Yes, sir, sorry sir. It was my first time delivering a message and I wanted to do well at it, sir,” he apologised.

John went on, “You did your job very well indeed; and now you know how to plan out your next message delivery: ask about speed when you are tasked with the job. Any good Chief will take your age, energy and ability into account. Go back to the fisher village, at a more leisurely pace, and inform the Chief that I will be along later today to meet with Corvo. But before you do that, step inside and take a break, get a drink and some food. I don’t want you running on an empty stomach.”

The lad was emphatically grateful.

“Thank you sir; High Chief, and you, Chief. It is generous of you to offer food and drink to a mere messenger.”

Numa insisted, “A messenger is as important as his message, so has to be looked after. If the messenger cannot get there in time, through thirst or hunger, the message fails to be delivered. Is that not so?”

“I suppose so, Chief. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“We Chiefs have to think of such matters if we want a message properly delivered and in good time. Remember that when you yourself want to send an important message at some point in the future.”

John looked back into the cave and called out, “Have we food and drink for a messenger from the fisher village, before he goes home?”

Two women replied, “Yes, High Chief! Give us a few moments to heat up some porridge and get some grain cakes cooked.”

John told the lad, “There now, follow these two women and they will sort you out. Do you have a girl friend, by the way?”

“No sir. I have not long ago become a man. It is all new to me.”

“Well, we have a few girls recently become women, who are now looking for a good man to marry, so cast your eyes around while you are here. You might find one that would welcome another visit.”

After he had left them, John mentioned, “I have to go and test out the new latrine, my love.”

“Then I will come along and make sure you don’t make a mess of Brando’s hard work.”

John chuckled at the idea in his head. “I am not going to tell you to piss off, Numa, so come along and observe your husband trying out your new shit house.”

Numa giggled back, “It is a heck of a lot better than right behind your hut in a village, John.”

“True. I once visited a fishing village where the men’s latrine was built out over the beach, so that your piss and shit fell directly on to the beach, to be washed away by the next tide.”

“That sounds eminently sensible.”

“Yes, it was, for its time. The authorities eventually replaced it with a new one with pipes to take away the excreta; more hygienic but less fun.”

“John, you come out with the most peculiar memories at times. Still, you are a good husband to me, and that is what is most important.”

“And you are a wonderful woman. Discovering you was a high point in my life, and the best thing ever, here and now.”

A short time later, the messenger had been fed and watered, and he set out for home, waving to Numa and John as he left the cave and noticed them coming back from the latrine. They gave him a friendly wave in response, and he vanished into the trees. Numa looked at John again. “Husband, how is our wife at the Farfarers?”

“Maranga? Doing well; a good Chief, with a useful sidekick in Balgo, and a genius Maker in Brando. She has a lot going for her. They are about to move to the new campsite, as it is almost ready for occupation.”

“Stupid man: how is she doing as a woman? You know that is what I meant.”

“Oh, her pregnancy? No complaints, it seems, and she was enthusiastic in bed overnight. She hoped I could stay another night, but I had too many other excitements in my life, like you, so unfortunately had to leave. I’ll try to go back there sometime soon, but we have to get our next attack squad ready for our surprise hit on another invader group. Hopefully Corvo will have enough to tell me that I can start planning that event. A night attack again, I expect. How are our archers doing in their practising?”

A few had let up on their practising, assuming they had done al that was required, but most have continued; particularly those who did not meet the standard for the first raid.”

“Good to know. I now want all of them to get back to training; this time for a variety of lengths, for what I want is accuracy on a target. Give them a choice of targets at different distances, and once they find their best distance for high accuracy, we will earmark that person for action at that distance. We are likely going to attack a military camp, and if we have warriors wandering around at a variety of distances, each of our troops can select a target warrior that is within his or her range for accuracy.

I want this attack to be quick, accurate and deadly, so that we hit them severely then vanish before they have time to organise themselves for retaliation. How it will work will depend on what Corvo has found. They might be a lax lot or they might be on guard after the previous raid on their headquarters. I am assuming this target will not be a headquarters but just a camp of ordinary warriors.”

Numa frowned as she thought on this. “How dangerous is this attack going to be for our own warriors? I am responsible for them, remember; they are my people.”

“I can’t promise anything in advance, Numa. All I can say is that through intense training and good leadership, I hope to be able to bring them all home again; hopefully without injury or death. It is always a possibility in the life of a soldier that you might get injured or die. You just accept that as a possibility, and work to minimise the chance of it happening. I always had this at the back of my mind, and it forced me to concentrate on my training even harder. We must make it clear to our warriors that they are not immune to enemy weapons, but that if they stick to their training, the chances of being hit are much reduced.”

“Strange. Hunters do not get such training, but they learn to avoid being seen by the animals they prey on. Is that not a similar effect?”

“In many ways, yes. If you can be easily seen, you are more of a target. One army, back in my era, used to have red uniforms. Their enemies began to realise that if they fired their weapons – think of an arrow, but it was an explosive device that went faster – if they fired at the red colour, that were more likely to hit their enemies. Following on from that, gradually the message got through, and now the same army, that I was once part of, changed to green or brown mottled clothing, or white fighting uniforms, reflecting whether they were fighting in a jungle environment, or in a desert, or in snow-covered places. As a result the soldiers blend into their surroundings and are hard to see. They only wear noticeable uniforms for parading around in front of their own people.”

“So it is not just weapons and tactics, it is also hiding in plain sight! No wonder you learned to be an effective warrior, John.”

“We took it a step further, Numa. We used a type of colouring matter, and spread it on our hands and faces: brown and black and green for those of us with whitish faces. Doing this means your paler skin does not show up against the background colours. Your own local colouring does not show up so much, so our warriors are fairly safe in that way. Me: I have to hide my face! I will do it with some streaks of mud.”

“That is a thing that has always puzzled me: why is your skin much paler than ours?”

“Skin colour is based on the amount of a protective substance in the skin, that stops you getting badly burned by the sun in high summer. I come from a place much further north, where the sun is not so much of a problem, so our skin gradually became lighter, but still able to work with lower amounts of the substance in our skin. We call the chemical melanin, and you will find that my own skin will slowly get darker in response to the increased sunlight.”

“Fascinating. Your stories about people and things keep surprising me, John. Will your children be lighter-skinned?”

“Perhaps some of them will. They will have a certain amount of influence from me and a certain amount from you, but there is no standard measure of what the children’s skin colour will be. The skin colour is simply a measure of the body’s attempt to protect itself from harmful rays of sunshine, and it changes through the generations. It has no other meaning or purpose.”

“When do you want to leave to visit Corvo? How long do you expect him to sleep before you wake him and demand his knowledge?”

“If he only got back at first light, he won’t have slept on the fishing boat: too much swaying with the waves, so he will at least one hand of sleep time; perhaps more. If I have an early mid-day meal, and set off right after, I should be there when he is ready to be awake again.”

“Okay. Get a good feed inside you before you leave. With a bit of luck you can come right back as soon as you have heard his story, and have your evening meal back here.”

John noted that she was using terms like ‘okay’ that she had picked up from him. He knew it did not come into the language until the late 1800s, so it was solely from his own time. Perhaps she had picked it up from Vickie or Sheila or Jean though, or maybe it was his translation nanites doing a better job through experience.

Following instructions, John was replete before leaving on his journey to the coast. He met a couple of men from local tribes on the way there, and heard that a new cult idea was sweeping the area.

“This new practice involves women being treated the same as men; can you believe it?”

John replied, “Yes. It was introduced in my tribe, and my wife likes it. With her greater status within the tribe, she treats me better, more and more, especially at night, so I have no complaints. Have you had any experience of it?”

“No. We just heard about it, and it sounded terrible.”

“I think it is like many new things; don’t junk it until you have tried it first. Excuse me, fellows, but I have to get to the fisher village to meet a man about something he knows.”

They waved him off and resumed their own journey.

At last John got to the fisher village and his usual welcome by the child guards. They recognised his face, being a bit different from the tribe, and escorted him into the village. The Headman had been informed and was waiting.

“Hello, High Chief. Your friend Corvo is still sleeping, but should be ready to wake up, as he has not been disturbed since he got his head down. He seemed excited by whatever he found, and is intact, so he must have avoided trouble. Please come to my hut, and I will send someone to rouse Corvo. He will join us when he is fully awake. Any news for us from your end?”

“The most interesting is that I had a visitor from the north, as they had heard of the ivaders to the south and wanted to know more. I brought him up to date, and suggested that he invite his chief to send a scouting team through the local villages just to the north of us. The idea I had was that they could say that they belonged to the second land army of the north, as that would add some depth to the tale I was spinning. The guy was quite taken with the idea, so I think he will get that to happen.