Chapter 10

The two crying women looked at each other, saw agreement, and rushed over to John to kneel at his feet. Both of them declared, “Chief, we are happy to be your wives if you will care for our brothers and sisters as your own children.”

“Agreed; so stand up and let me admire your faces, instead of just looking down to your tits. It will take some days before your extensive bruising goes away, but you can make a start by locating your siblings and warning their carers that you will be taking them back before long, to be with you and your new husband.”

Bravura had already committed herself to John, so that made three definites.

He now looked over the other three teenagers, to see what their thoughts would be about becoming his women instead of rejects by tribal society.

Everyone has their own backstory; these women would be no different, he surmised.

“Well?” he demanded of them.

He saw confusion and indecision on all three faces. There were problems beyond Gobango that bothered them, so he decided that a confidential chat with each was required to sort out their doubts.

“Ladies, please all go back inside the hut in a moment, to wait for a talk with me, but first bring out two seats; one for me and one for the lady I will next speak with. I see I need to have private chats with you three, one at a time. Each of you is important and deserves individual attention.”

That got him a smile of approval for that decision.

He still had no names apart from Bravura. He must ask them during the interview.

The first teenage woman – girl as far as John was concerned, due to his upbringing – came back out with the two others who were carrying the heavy seats made out of log segments. The pair set them down, then vanished back inside with alacrity, leaving the first one to be quizzed.

John pointed to the seats. “Looks like you have been selected to be first. Sit down, young lady; whatever your name is.”

“Cramona, sir. I am sorry I had not told you before.”

“No, it was my fault for not treating you as important enough to have a name. I apologise for that greivous error.”

“You are apologising to me? You are a Chief, so you can call me whatever you want. Gobango called me Girlie!”

“Allow me to correct you: I am your Chief, therefore the people of my tribe are all important people and should be treated accordingly. You are of this tribe, are you not?”

“Yes, sir; Chief.”

“Then you are important. Your name is also important, for that is how you should be addressed. So are your problems. Now, Cramona, tell me what is troubling you.”

“I hate to admit it, but I am ashamed, Chief.”

“Ashamed, Why? What have you done?”

“Nothing directly, sir, but my widowed mother recently remarried, and she wanted me out of her way, so that her new husband would not be distracted by me ... and my big breasts, I believe. I suspect that she had something to do with Gobango taking me to his hut.”

“I see. You did nothing wrong, simply were present and good-looking, and thus became a victim of both Gobango and your mother.” He stopped speaking and reflected, “Ah, you do not expect to be welcomed by your mother and stepfather. Indeed, your stepfather may regard you as spoiled goods and available to him to play with as a sexual extra: not a good situation for you. Do you have an alternative option if you don’t regard me as acceptable?”

“No, sir. I have made friends with the other two, so I will go along with whatever they decide. I would like to stay with them.”

“But am I acceptable? If not, we can find you a husband among one of my tribes.”

“You would do that? Find me a husband if I didn’t fancy you?”

“Yes. As I say, you are important, so I must do my best to help you make a good future for yourself.”

“In that case, sir, you are indeed acceptable, even if you have a whole flock of wives at home. I am willing to be the least of them, if need be.”

“Cramona, every one of my wives are important persons on their own. If they did not want to remain with me, I would be happy to let them go, if that was their choice. As it happens, none have expressed dissatisfaction so far. I hope you will feel the same way. How about you send out the next lady?”

“Yes, sir. May I kiss you by myself? Bravura says it is nice. Gobango never kissed, only fucked us.”

John opened his arms and she rushed into them for her kiss. John tried to make it no more than a pleasant bussing, but she expected a more energetic engagement, so he kissed more intensively and when she broke away, her face was flushed.

“I see what she meant! This could be interesting, if you fuck in the same way.”

John merely raised his eyebrows at that remark. She hurried to get her replacement sent out to John.

This next teenage girl, again busty, was blushing when she came, and sat down as directed. Gobango clearly had a penchant for big breasts. John did not see why the size of breasts mattered in a marriage or even a loving entanglement.

John asked, “Why the blushing, young lady?”

“The others back there were talking about you. You are not like other men we have experience of, even before we were forced by Gobango. You are ... different, in an amazing way; I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I certainly hope I am different. I would be ashamed if I was like either of these two monsters who hurt you. You still show your bruises on your face and arms. What did you do to get these injuries?”

“Talking back, sir, instead of just putting up with everything. Gobango only liked women who were obedient to him and did as he demanded. Anything else, and he lost his temper. I found that out the hard way. These last few weeks have been terrible. I am glad you killed him.”

“As far as I am concerned, he earned his own demise by attacking me. Now what is your name, girl? Sorry ... I should have said, woman; you are not a girl any more, certainly not in experience of a hard life.”

“Sir, my name is Sistera.”

“So, Sistera, what is your problem with home or me? Are both options so bad?”

She dropped her head and whispered, only loud enough for him to hear, “My mother has no husband and two other children. I am a liability to her. She has a better chance of a husband if I am not around. Oh, she did nothing to encourage Gobango. He just saw that I had big tits and told my mother that I was coming with him as a concubine. She cried at the time, but now, I think she will resent my return as a defiled woman in her household. S he would have trouble finding a husband for me.”

“I can see the reasoning. What about me? Am I another unwanted choice?”

“No, sir. It is not that. It is just that I don’t know you at all.”

“Ah, well. I suppose having been given no option by Gobango, you must view all other men with suspicion. How long ago did your father die?”

“Sir, I don’t know if he is dead or not. I was told he left the tribe, after he offended the Chief that was here before Gobango. I was not told what my father had done to deserve that. He was told to leave by himself, and never return. That was several years ago, and naturally he has not been back. He may be dead, but I don’t know.”

“What would you like to know about me, Sistera? Matters which will let you know what I am like, I am sure.”

“Yes, sir. Did you really slaughter Gobango and Cravallo as they say?”

“No. Not slaughter, no matter how you mean the word. I merely defended myself, as I have abilities in that way, and in the process they each ended up dead. I made no determined attempt to kill them. I would have been willing for them to be defeated and gone from the tribe. They didn’t see it that way: it was all or nothing, so they got nothing.”

“So you are not a real killer? Gobango was a killer by nature: that terrified me every time he beat me. I thought I would end up dead; I really did.” She shivered at the thought.

“Sistera: I promise you, no ill-treatment by me. The worst pain I can offer you is that of childbirth if you marry me. I have a reputation for getting my wives pregnant, you see. None of them have objected to that result.”

He smiled deprecatingly, and she smiled back.

“So you are a good man, as was said before in jest?”

“I like to think of myself that way. My wives would possibly corroborate that statement, but they are not here with me; it was too dangerous for them to come as you will know.”

“If you keep to that promise of no ill-treatment, then I will marry you, Chief John. I can put up with any minor defects you might have.”

“Thank you, Sistera. I have a few defects, like every person has, and am grateful for your trust in me. I guarantee that my defects will not lead to harm for you. My wives are my pride and joy.

Now, can you send out the last woman, so we can conclude the interviewing?”

This final female had a hangdog look, being kept till last. She vented her annoyance at John.

“Am I left to the end, as a useless victim of Gobango, warranting no priority?”

“Someone had to be last; and you were all victims, so why not you? It could have been anyone who was in first, second or third place for interview. It was not my selection, I assure you. It was chosen by yourselves. Perhaps the other ladies preferred it this way, or it is may be just luck. Let’s start with your name.”

“You don’t know it from the others?”

“No. Why should I? I was asking them about themselves; that was the point of the interviews.”

“Oh. I thought...” she went quiet, leaving John wondering what was going on with her thinking. He prodded at her mind.

“Can we get back to the beginning? Your name?”

“Travana. They didn’t...” she paused briefly then went on, “They didn’t say anything about me?”

“I have already said not. You expected them to sing your praises in advance?”

“No ... the opposite.” She went silent again.

John sighed theatrically as he at last saw where this was going.

“Oh, dear. You were nasty to them, were you?”

“In a way. I helped to hold them down if they resisted Gobango. I was afraid of being beaten severely by Gobango and thought if I helped him, he would not hurt me while he had sex with me, and I would survive. It worked for a time, then before he left here recently, he lost his temper and bashed me around for no reason that I saw.

I ended up in pain like the others, but I thought they would rat me out anyway, because of what I did to them before.”

She paused, then went on, “Bravura came afterwards. I think he saw her as an easy option, for he didn’t look for me to help, but he was wrong about that. She is a tough woman despite her youth; but she suffered all the same, even worse than the other women.

That is why I thought they would have blabbed; to get back at me.”

“No, they said nothing about that behaviour. They were understanding of your situation, it seems to me. They left it to you to do something about it if it bothered you. Looks like it did, from your outburst.”

“Yes.”

Again, she was silent for a little, then said, “I am not going to start begging to be taken by you as a wife, Chief, or even a concubine, for I lost such a privilege by my actions. I cannot go home, for I was a wild piglet with my parents: always causing trouble, you see. I think they were glad to be rid of me. I would rather be with a good man. If as the others say, you are a good man, then perhaps we can make something of an agreement. You would need to be prepared to sort my head out though, or fit in with my leanings.”

“Travana, my whole life seems to be spent on sorting things or people out, so it would not be new to me; just a nuisance. I would prefer if you sorted yourself out to make folk view you in a better light. I know it can be done, but it takes a strong personality and determination to achieve that end. Do you think you have that personality and determination? Your ‘leanings’, as you call them, would have to take a distant second place in your choice.”

“Well, I tried determination with Gobango, and it worked for a while, but he didn’t stick to my plan, did he? Perhaps I chose the wrong person to work with. Can I try it with you, Chief?”

“That depends on what you mean. If it is determination to become a good wife, then I am all in favour. If it means a determination to get me to fit in with your own wishes and desires, then no.”

“That’s it: all or nothing? No other choice for me?”

“Exactly. My wives will reject anyone trying to disrupt their peaceful and productive lives. I can’t afford to have disruption in my family, so get with the family pattern, or go your own way, Travana. That is for your own good, to avoid trouble later.

I will kiss you again to help your bruises heal faster, and you have had the herbal treatment to clear your womb of unwanted baby stuff, but no fucking by me unless you become my wife when you are well. Not at all. What do you say, or do you need time to think it over?”

“Dammit! You are such a forceful but honest man, Chief John. I suppose I can put up with your demands, which seem strong but fair. My only unchanging demand is not to hurt me: never beat me or anything like it. I hate pain. I would rather be banished than hurt.”

“I never harm my wives, or any other woman if I can avoid it, so that so-called ‘demand’ is what you would get anyway. Is that your only concern? Pain?”

“Yes.”

“I must warn you that the experience of childbirth is painful while it is happening, but apparently afterwards the memory of that pain goes away quickly. It seems that a woman’s body is built towards putting up with that kind of pain, as it is part of the natural process of birthing a new generation. I expect any wife of mine to be willing to birth at least one child, so add that to the acceptance of marriage to me. Once you have borne a child, you can decide whether to have more later, or not; it will be fully up to you and you alone, for you will have shown your commitment to the family and you will have deserved that choice.”

“So taking you as my husband also means having your baby?”

“That is normal, assuming the Earth Mother permits you to become pregnant. Not every woman is able to become pregnant.”

“But some women die while having a baby!” she complained.

“That has always been the case in most tribes. Most of the time, it is preventable by simply having all present washing themselves clean before attending the birth. My health magic which I passed to you in a kiss will also help avoid birth complications, but will not stop pain entirely.

Pain is the body’s way of preventing more damage. If you didn’t experience pain when you got a cut or a broken bone, you might end up dying before you did anything about it, if you didn’t have the pain to alert you. Toothache warns you that you have a teeth problem. You may need a damaged tooth removed before the infection spreads and kills you. Pain is therefore intended as a protection, not a curse. It is nasty only when deliberately inflicted on a person. Childbirth is never a pain-free process, but we would not survive as a people without it.”

“I have never thought of pain in that way.”

“It is the way life is. Pain is a life process. Certain experts can use herbal remedies to dull pain so that it is not so sharp and hurtful. I have a couple of wives that know about such treatments. The lady that gave me the medicine you have taken is also able to provide help with pain, as and when it is needed.”

“That sounds better. Would I be able to have such medicine if I was birthing a child?”

“I believe so. She probably knows which treatments do not interfere with the birth process but make the pain more bearable: my other expert definitely knows about that. Some pain preventives are not compatible with the process of birthing, so the correct choice is important, just as every person is important.

If you seek to solve a problem sensibly, instead of inflicting your fear on other women, life can be so much simpler, Travana.”

She stared into his eyes, and made a decision.

“All right, then. I will agree to be wife to you, and have a baby if it happens, for I believe you are telling me truthfully. Do you want to fuck me now?”

“No, as I told you. Your body needs to be cleared of whatever is in your womb at present, and my magic needs to make your body healthy. Only then is it safe for us to have sex. The same applies to the other women here, so you are not being rejected in any way, merely deferred like the others.

Talking about the other women, you should go speak to them, and apologise for your earlier actions, explaining that they were done out of your own fear of pain, and not through malicious intent. Let them know that you were given painful bruises even after that ill-advised action, so that it did not help you in the end. That should let them know you are not normally a nasty woman.”

“Yes, sir.” She got up from the seat and went to leave, then turned back and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” and she was gone inside.

John allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.

Then something struck him from his memory of the tour round the tribe. It had not impacted on him at the time, as it would have been so normal in his own time, but now it did alert him as unusual here. There was a field or two outside the tribe’s campsite; one field growing a crop of tall grain of some kind; and a waving field of obvious maize in the distance. The levelness of the camp’s location was actually a reflection of the plain outside, but also an invitation to grow crops if he ever saw one. The tall grain field showed no marked evidence of weeds in his fleeting memory, so it must have been cared for by someone with an eye to the future. This tribe did not look like having an eye on the future, overall, so something was different, relating to plants.

It appeared that someone in this tribe had mastered part at least of the art of agriculture, long before conventional wisdom claimed for its introduction. He wondered how this had come about. Was it one individual, or a long tradition of this tribe? This he must investigate, to discover where the concept originated. He could see the point of planting maize – sweetcorn - instead of foraging on the natural wild cereal; it was so prominent in the way it stood up, but orderly planting of an ordinary grain that develops from grasslands in an haphazard way?

That takes a bit more observation and thinking ahead towards planning a crop rather than simply finding and harvesting the wild grass version with a sickle. He was under the impression that the wild wheat, einkorn, originated in the Tigris/Euphrates valley, and rye came from parts of Turkey. None seemed to have started in the Americas, but perhaps in this version of Earth, such cereals also grew here and were later noted as a productive grain. Rye is more nutritious than wheat, but wheat provides a softer bread, which is preferred by the rich. But the field might be of another grain, such as oats, barley, millet or sorghum, none of which he was aware came from the Americas. Closer inspection was necessary.

As he stood up to see about walking towards the fields, a procession of six women exited the Chief’s hut and approached him, Bravura among them.

One of them – his mind thought it was Cramona - spoke.

“Chief John, we have had a discussion and want you to know that we forgive Travana for her actions. We have all decided that we will take up your offer of us as wives, even if we don’t deserve that honour. We all suffered the same way, so we feel we can live together as your women, particularly as you have promised no pain in future except childbirth. Are you willing to accept all six of us as wives, and the younger brothers and sisters of Marmora and Perumbra as dependents? It is a lot to ask of you.”

John responded, “I think I made this clear, but I will repeat it: I accept you as my wives and accept the dependents mentioned if they want to be with you. Remember we will be leaving this tribe eventually, but I have much to put right in the meantime.

Thank you, ladies, for accepting me as a husband. I will treat you well; of that, you can be certain.

Perhaps one of you can direct me to whoever is the person responsible for what is growing in the fields out there?”

Sistera blurted out, “Oh, please sir; don’t do anything to harm the fields! The seeds are important for our food during the wet season when game is scarce.”

“I expected that. In fact, it is one of the good things about this tribe – apart from you ladies!”

“In that case, you should talk with Gomoro the tiller of soil. He is the man who knows everything about the crops. He has no wife so should be happy to talk with anyone who shows an interest.”

“Thank you, my dear. I shall go and locate him now. He and I should find much in common on the subject of growing things.”

Strolling around the village huts, asking anyone he met, as to where Gomoro’s hut lay, he eventually found himself at the entrance to a hut that looked in much better condition than the rest. He tapped the wall, and asked loudly, “Is Gomoro in there?”

In a moment, out stepped a tall man who looked about thirty, with receding hair but a muscular build.

“Who asks?”

“Chief John of the Mountain Tribe.”

He blinked in surprise. “Do you really mean that? Chief? What happened to Chief Gobango?”

“He had an appointment with the Earth Mother, so he is under the earth to meet her.”

“Ah. He also met you, I presume? That must have been a surprise to him when he challenged what at first sight seems a weaker man.”

“He did get a surprise. A very aggressive man, I thought; without much imagination of the new realities. I can’t get along with such people; but it was he who insisted on fighting, and lost.”

“So you are the Chief he went to challenge? You don’t look all that tough, I must say.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Gomoro. You for example don’t look like a man who can’t get a wife!

But I was not the Chief he challenged. That intended victim was Chief Maranga of the Farfarers. She is one of my wives, and called me in to act as her champion; her pregnancy prevented her from fighting, though she has had training in that art.

That is how I met Gobango. He just could not be dissuaded from fighting, as I said; seemed to think a frontal assault solved everything. Silly man! That was a fatal error.”

“So, you have taken over. You don’t seem too aggressive, but with hidden power to you; interesting. What sort of Chief do you intend to be?”

“A cooperative one. I am a great believer in a tribe running itself, with the Chief pushing as little as possible, just enough to help keep order and organise the people to do their jobs well. In the same way, my own tribe has adopted an equal status policy for men and women; either can take on jobs that might in the past be reserved for a man or for a woman. A woman can train to be a warrior, and a man can train to be a cook, if either of them have an aptitude for that trade. It is more a matter of how good you would be at the task, rather than your gender, dictating acceptability. To me, this seems logical, no matter what past tradition said. Tradition is not always good practice.”

“As I said before: interesting.”

John continued, “A similar situation applies to marriage. The man cannot simply take a woman as a wife or buy her from her father; he has to get her agreement on the subject. If she decides she does not want to marry him, she doesn’t, and that is the end of it. Conversely, if she finds a man she wants to spend her life with, her parents should accept that decision.”

Gomoro looked again at John, seeing him in a new light.

“Chief, you are a man whose views on people are similar to my own. I did have a wife that I loved dearly, but she died in childbirth, in agony; and I could do nothing about it: nothing at all! I was appalled at this. It hurt me immensely, that she should have to go through that suffering, and be lost to me from our anticipated future life together. We lost the baby as well, so there was nothing of my darling left. It was a monstrous thing to happen to her. It should not have happened; she did not deserve that fate.

Afterwards, I could not imagine imposing such a calamity on another woman, so I have held off from seeking another wife for many years.”

John stared at him challengingly.

“You have not had sex for many years? I find that incredible. Man is not made to be celibate like that by choice.”

“I did not say I have not had sex, just not a wife. Certain ladies who are widowed have similar urges for sex, and we get together at times to satisfy that need. They use some type of herb to prevent pregnancy, they say, so that I would not fret about that possibility. I prefer it that way.”

“That is more like it. A hale and hearty man like you must be an attractive proposition to these women. How many women? None have sought marriage?”

“I explained my feelings, and that I view marriage as for procreation, thus the friendly engagements instead, on account of my fears. They knew what occurred with my wife. These ladies, four of them, seem to appreciate my concern for any woman I might marry, though the facts saddened them.”

“Intriguing story. I may have taken the same path if I had been in your situation. Most deaths by childbirth are avoidable, one way or another, I have found. We should talk about this at greater length at another time, but I came to ask you about plant crops. You are the first man I have met who works with cereals such as maize and whichever grass you cultivate for grain.”

Gomoro looked at him in puzzlement. “Grass? Nothing to do with grass. The seeds the plants make are just ‘grain’,” he said. “What else could it be?”

“You don’t have a name for it, to differentiate it from other grains?”

“What other grains? The rest of them, like the maize, are just plants of various kinds that grow in dry ground or wet ground or wherever. This one has many many small seeds that make good eating when pounded into a powder. Even not fully broken down, they make a nourishing pudding, though without much of a taste.”

John commented, “I must have a look at the crop to see if I can tell what type of cereal grass it is. I have never heard of a grass grain being grown in this part of the world, so it may be a different cereal grain altogether.”

Gomoro queried, “How would you know what grains are grown in other parts of the world? Are you a magic shaman as well as a Chief?”

“I will admit to being the Shaman of my tribe. I have powers that others do not possess. I have seen things that others do not see; even things that happened in other parts of the world; or things that have not happened yet. For example, a machine that rides on rails on the ground and rushes forward at great speed, carrying people inside it to their destination. Imagine level tracks between tribes, and machines with people inside, riding these tracks. You could get from one tribe to another in a very short period of time that way, instead of days of walking through forest and wading across rivers where it is shallow.

These tracks, when they come, will be made to cross rivers using a bridge built of wood or stone, and crossing gorges and valleys in the same way. This of course is all in the far future.”

“You certainly envisage plausible fantasies, Chief. Such a means of easy movement would be a marvellous device, even if impossible to make.”

“Gomoro, the correct terminology is: ‘impossible to make at this time’. I think ahead to many generations in the future when this will become possible.”

“A fascinating speculation, Chief, but not much use to us here and now.”

“True, but if you had not thought ahead to the future, would these field crops be here now?”

“I accept that argument, Chief. Looking to the future is wise in its own way, if it is practical.”

John pointed out, “A gifted and skilled Maker of the Farfarers tribe has invented a machine with two wheels, one behind the other with a seat in between, that allows you to travel along any reasonably level track much faster than simply walking, even though you still use your feet for propelling you forward. On downslopes the wheels can turn by themselves, saving you energy, but you have to put more energy in, to go uphill. It is often easier to walk beside the machine and push it uphill without a load on it; the wheels turn more easily.

Clever thinking can work, if you have a clever Maker to make that thinking a reality.”

Gomoro acknowledged, “I admire such thinking and making. Can we take a walk to the fields and let you see what I am doing with the plants?”

“Excellent plan. How many summers have you been using these fields?”

“This is the third summer of growing. Why do you ask?”

“All plants use minerals in the soil to help them grow. After several years, the minerals used by these plants become less available, and the plants suffer. You can get over the difficulty by moving to another field for a few years, allowing the first field to recover its fertility. You can use the first field for a different type of crop, such as beans or a leafy vegetable, as they use different minerals to the cereal crop and can add new fertility to the soil.”