Chapter 3

However, the next afternoon was odd. Balto, a tall young man from the fishing village who was an occasional messenger, appeared again, eager to impart more information.

“High Chief John, that peculiar messenger from the invaders has come back to our village. You know: the one that rides that large animal you called a water buffalo?”

John grinned at his memory of Parsival. “Yes, I recall the man; an unusual fellow.”

“His message this time is not what any of us expected. Instead of being hauty and pushy as before, demanding things, he says the Duke guy is ASKING for an audience with you. The messenger man gave nothing away, but I got the impression he and his master have been downgraded in some way within the invader army. It was nothing definite, just a feeling from the way the messenger acted; you know, not so sure of himself, if that makes sense?”

John followed his reasoning. “I know exactly the feeling you had. It arises from what I call ‘body language’, where the way you move your body tells a story. It is more than just waving your arm to attract attention; it is your whole body posture and movement, like you shuffle around when unsure of yourself.

It is very useful to be able to read a person’s body language, for you can guess fairly accurately if he is telling you the truth, telling untruths, or if he is just uncertain about what he is telling you in words.”

Balto’s eyes lit up. “Hey, that’s great! It seems I can read body language. I must try it with other people, especially with girls I may be interested in. It will let me know if she is serious about me or just leading me on; treating me as a man and a possible mate or simply playing her own game with me.”

“That may indeed help you, Balto. Most folk do not appreciate what their body language says about them; the way they move and also the way their eyes move – shifty and not looking straight at you when lying; looking you confidently in the face when talking truth.”

“Thank you, High Chief. What about this request from the duke man? What do we say? Are you willing to meet him again?”

John was nonchalant in his reply. “I am always happy to meet with Duke Drago of the duchy of Gondwana. How things proceed will depend on what he has to say to me about the invader army. I had word that they had stopped their advance and were squabbling about possibly returning whence they came.

I am hoping that they have in fact decided on a new direction for their army, and not towards us, but I hope that they are not thinking of merely bypassing our area. If they do try that, they will end up to the north of us, and find that there is no army waiting there; but our sea merchant friends will soon be preparing to defend their own territory and probably encouraging a similar response from other tribes up there, so the invader army will eventually meet their match somewhere else. They don’t have an Alexander the Great running the show.”

“Who?” Balto enquired. “Never heard of him, High Chief.”

“Sorry, he was a military leader in a far away land, long ago, never defeated in war, but was nowhere near this land of ours. The Invader army is not well led; it is badly organised, poorly trained, and not provided with the best weapons available. I shall be interested to hear what Duke Drago has to say.”

Balto accepted this. “I will report back to the emissary that High Chief John will graciously accept the duke’s request to meet him.”

John contributed, “He has been here before, so declare that the place of meeting is at this cave, in the middle of the day, any day from two days after tomorrow. It would be courteous of him to send a message of his intended arrival day, but the exact timing does not bother me. I don’t expect to be absent from here for long: my wives are insisting on my presence for a while, and I must also pay a visit to the Farfarers’ Chief. If I do so tomorrow, that will get that pleasant task done before Drago gets here.”

“Right, High Chief. Any midday from two days after tomorrow onwards, and advance notice will be welcome, if not essential. I have that right, sir?”

“You have it right, Balto. See about some food before you leave us, but please don’t make too much of an impact on our unattached girls while you do so; you are starting to put on some muscle, I see. You used to be so thin, now you are a handsome man.”

This brought out a fit of giggles from the tall young man, followed by an apology. “I am sorry if I should attract too many girls, High Chief. I shall do my best to not offend in that way.”

After Balto had left, John sought out Numa to announce that he would be making a short visit to Chief Maranga, to see how the new village was coming along. Chief Numa eyed him, then sighed, “I don’t suppose you can make her more pregnant than she already is, but don’t dally with her for too long, my love. Your other wives need some attention here.”

“I won’t delay my stay at the Farfarers, for Duke Drago wants to come and see me again. What for, I don’t know, but he was always interesting to speak to. He has a practical and sensible mind which does not sit well with a military occupation.”

“You mean, he is much like you?”

“In a way, I expect you are right, darling Numa. Anyway, Balto has been told to let him come here any time after a couple of days. I have no idea of the likely timetable of the man. It will depend on his official duties with the invader army. Oh, and I said ‘around midday’, so that he doesn’t turn up at the crack of dawn or looking for a bed for the night.”

“Is he coming alone, with a servant, or with an honour guard?” Numa wanted to know.

“Again, I don’t know. Assume the worst, and have some warriors prepared to act as your own honour guard if it seems appropriate. Best clothing you can manage for them, and it will keep up appearances if you include one or two men in the guard complement.”

“A Chief must appear correctly prepared for such a visitor, yes. I will do that, John, and hopefully you will be back long before he arrives. We don’t want it to appear rushed.”

“Most probably I will, but advance preparation never goes wrong. Take care of our child,” he added, patting her swollen tummy.

She smiled, but added, “He, or she, appears to be behaving better at the moment, thank the Earth Mother.”

John made his relatively short journey to the Farfarers tribe, and was welcomed at the guarded gateway by faces he recognised but could not put a name to.

“Hello, Shaman John. Come to visit Chief Maranga?”

“I have. Is she here at the moment, or out looking at your new village site?”

“She is here, probably at her hut. Do you need to be shown to there?”

“It is a while since I have been, so yes, please,” he agreed to the escort.

The guard whistled three notes, and within moments, a boy of around ten summers appeared.

“Boy, escort this Shaman to the Chief’s hut.”

The lad happily showed him the way to the hut, and when they got there, John told him, “That was very good of you, my friend. Thank you for a task well done.”

The boy blushed at this praise, and ran off. John came to the doorway and called, Chief Maranga! High Chief John comes to visit.”

Maranga rushed to the door and opened it for John to enter.

“My husband!,” she declared. “Do come in.”

John followed her inside, and looked around. The interior was lit by a wick oil lamp, so not very bright, but enough for him to notice a change in the layout.

“What is that wooden-walled corner, Maranga?”

“It is a place for me to wash with warmed water during the cold season. Brando built it. It has a wooden floor to stand on while washing, so the floor doesn’t turn to mud. In addition, he made a hole for the water to go away. He installed hollow bamboo lengths to take the water under the ground and out of the hut. He then discovered he needed to take the tubes – one connected to the next – all the way to the nearest ditch, so that the water would soak away there, and not back up into the hut.”

“Wow. That’s terrific, darling; not quite a shower room, but pretty close.”

“What’s a shower room, John?”

“A room like this, only with water coming in from above and out of an end piece with many tiny holes, so the water comes out like a scattered waterfall. We tried to make a shower back at the other tribe, but not in a room like this.”

“How did you get the water to come from above?” she asked.

“If you want cold water, you just divert part of a stream from a higher level to where you need it, and put a strainer somewhere before the pipe to stop any fish, insect, twigs or any other debris coming through before the water gets to the end piece. For warm water, you have to heat the water and pour it into a container at a high level, and send it into the pipe with the shower head - the end piece with many tiny holes. You don’t want the water to be TOO hot, though!” he chuckled.

Maranga mused, “I ought to get Brando onto making such a device for me. I am sure he could work out how to do it. Oh, talking about doing it, do you remember Delica, the woman with the skin condition? I got you to fuck her in hopes of curing her ailment. Well, it worked: her skin is now fine, as is her womb, from what she tells me. And Marla the Healer is miffed at you succeeding where she failed to cure Delica.”

“Eh? What?” John was confused at this mass of data.

“Delica thinks she is pregnant from when you fucked her,” Maranga laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it is true; you seem to be good at making women pregnant, my love.”

“Oh, dear; that was unintentional. What do I do about it?”

“Nothing for the moment. I will take her into my custody as a servant for now, so she will be properly fed, and be under my control. If she proves to be expecting your child, she can become your concubine here, and her child can be raised with mine. If not, she can go home if she doesn’t want to be my servant. But she might want to stay in hopes of you fucking her again.”

“That is generous of you, Maranga. You are a kind woman, altogether. It should help make you a great Chief of the Farfarers.”

“Perhaps, but what brings you here? I hope it was to have another shot at fucking me; I have missed your rod of power.”

“It was, but not all. I am informed that Duke Drago wants an audience with me, and he should be coming within a few days. I thought you should be warned, in case we have occasion to involve your tribe in something. He has not indicated his reason for the visit, so we should prepare for all eventualities.”

“Right. Now you have told me. Can we get down to the fucking business now?”

John accepted her instruction, and started by fondling her breasts, then hugging her while stroking her fundament. She liked the touches, but for now she was insistent.

“Get yourself erect and inside me, John. It has been too long: I want to be fucked full with your strong member. It can say hello to our child.”

He acceded to this demand and was soon rutting away to her delight.

“Oohh, that is good. Harder, John. Put your seed inside me; make another baby.”

“Doesn’t work that way, my love, as you know. You can’t start another until the first one is born and weaned; a month or two old at least.”

“Shut up, man. Don’t stop your efforts, I haven’t got all day!”

Given this incentive, John speeded up and by sheer coincidence spurted into her just as she orgasmed strongly. She called out in her bodily excitement, and John stoppered her mouth with his own, until she giggled her joy.

John took his mouth off her face and whispered, “No need to frighten the rest of the tribe, my love!”

Maranga held him tight, saying, “Stay in me as long as you can, John. I love the feeling of you inside me. It feels so right.”

“For me and my wife, it is of course right. I want you to be happy, Maranga, so I will return as often as I can manage it, given how busy I am.”

“You are certainly busy with your other wives. Do you get the same reaction from them when you fuck them?”

“Roughly the same, but I don’t view it as fucking them, or you; it is making love with each of you, repeatedly showing that I love you all. Making babies is a bonus for me, a bonus I am delighted with.”

“Good. This one is not very big in my belly yet, but I have had some of that nuisance sickness that many pregnant women get. How much more of that can I expect? You seem to know such things.”

“From my knowledge, it varies from woman to woman. Some have it for a short time, some get for several moons, others get none at all. I can’t predict how it will affect you, my love, and I can’t do anything to make it better for you, sorry. Perhaps your herbal woman can suggest a potion to relive the symptoms.”

“Well, it shows you don’t have solutions for everything, despite the many indications of being all-knowing.”

“I am NOT all-knowing, Maranga, just better informed by having had a good education back in my original time. We also have a library secreted in the cave, which helps.”

“Library? What a funny word!”

“It means a collection of books, and before you ask what books are, they are gatherings of written-down facts and other knowledge. You know a little about writing, for anything you cypher, to convey a message, is writing. A picture of what you want is a message in picture writing, just as a drawing of a hut tells you it is a hut. Drawing the hut with numbers to tell you the size is another message, a sort of design to tell a Maker what size he is to make it. Some distant tribes that I knew about used pictures for writing messages: a man plus a boat plus water and a time symbol means the time it takes to travel by boat to your destination. Other tribes changed the pictures into words made up by symbols called letters, with the letters, usually together, meaning a sound: one symbol may mean ‘wa’, another meaning ‘ter’, combine to mean ‘water’ as a word. My people had learned lots of words to represent our language, so you could write words in our language on a flat surface to convey a meaning, such as: ‘This is how to build a boat for travelling on river water’. There would be a different word for sea water.”

“John, my love, all you have done is allowed your man member to turn small again and fall out of me. You should not tell me clever things when you need to make love to me!”

“Oops! Sorry, Maranga. Let me play with your breasts and nipples and kiss your lips, and see if I can bring my little friend back to hardness. If I can start that, then putting it back into your love hole should complete the job.”

A short spell of fondling and teasing brought the required response, and Maranga steered his tool back into her waiting slot. This persuaded his body that there was a job to be done, and he swelled accordingly. Maranga moved her hips to add to the attraction, and shortly they were back at their preferred task of moving her to another orgasm. John was taking a lot longer to be ready to fire more sperm, so he helped her to several more orgasms before he shot inside her vagina.

Maranga was happy. “That is more like it, my love. If only you were here to love me like that every day.”

“If only, but if we were together, my other wives would expect to be also, so you would be sharing my efforts. Numa wouldn’t want you to be getting loved every day if she and the others did not do likewise.”

They relaxed this time, sated, and lay side by side on their backs.

Maranga commented on John and his wives, “You always like to be fair to your women, John. I understand, and I wish other men did the same among our tribe. Some of them have a favourite wife that gets most of the loving, and the other, or others, get enough to make them pregnant, but not enough to keep them happy. You try to keep all your wives pregnant and happy, I have heard from Numa.”

“Numa knows what she is talking about. I never realised how competent a woman she was when I first rescued her from a pair of killers. At that time I saw her only as a fearful girl trying to protect her younger sister from the killers. Instead, she and her sister are bearing my children and helping to run our tribe.”

Maranga thought for a moment, then changed the subject. “Remind me who this Duke Drago is: I don’t seem to know him.”

“Oh, perhaps you weren’t around when he visited before. He is one of the higher-ups in the invader army; I don’t know his exact position but he seemed important among the officers; he was atleast very knowledgeable. I used him for passing information to the invaders; information that was not entirely accurate, yet influential in their decision-making, which is what I wanted. Keep that to yourself – that the information was not exact.”

“I can do that, as I have no idea what the information was!”

John asked, “Can I see Delica, and observe the difference my treatment has made? It is the first time I have been able to see a specific ailment apparently cured.”

Maranga growled in feigned jealousy, “ I suppose so. What a terrible man you are, wanting to see another woman’s body right after making love to me!” but she got up and went to the door. She called to the first person she saw, “Find Delica and tell her that I need her in my hut as soon as she can manage it.”

“Yes, Chief,” replied the woman, and hurried off. Five minutes later, Delica was at the door. “Chief? You wanted me?”

“Yes. Come in, girl. High Chief John is here, and wants to see what he managed with his Shaman powers.”

Delica beamed, straightened up and strode inside.

“High Chief, you are a wonder! I am completely cured of my skin condition, and feel so much better all over, not just my skin. I think you also put a baby in me, for I have missed my monthlies.”

“Congratulations, Delica,” John responded. “Has this cure helped you to find a man of your own?”

Her face fell. “Not yet, High Chief. The men are all suspicious of my cure, and are afraid my skin condition may return eventually. I can’t promise it will not happen, so they lose interest in me.”

“That’s a shame. Tribesmen are not very adventurous as a rule, it seems. If you never take a risk, you seldom achieve anything; that’s what I was taught. You are a good-looking woman, and now healthy. Having seen the difference my ... my powers ... have made, I am certain you will remain healthy in future.”

Maranga added, “John has suggested that I take you in as a servant, and that way we can be sure you will be properly fed for you and when you have it, your little one, to be fit for the times ahead. Would you liike to take that on?”

Delica was delighted by this proposal.

“Yes, please, Chief Maranga. Please may I ask as a favour, will High Chief John be allowed to give me more of his healing power, if I will be here to serve him too?”

Maranga laughed out loud.

“Cheeky girl! Delica, be careful or you will become addicted to John’s healing power, particularly the way he administers it! Yes, I will allow that to happen. He has many other wives looking for that power, so one more woman won’t make much of a difference; that is, provided John has no objection?” She turned to John for confirmation, at which he just shrugged and said, “Okay by me, Maranga.”

Maranga now asked Delica, “Is there anything else in connection with you moving here? Any problems?”

Delica tried to think, then blushed. She hesitated, then asked Maranga, “Chief, I have an awkward question to ask, for I don’t know how I can ask it without causing offence.”

Maranga frowned, but gestured for her to go ahead. “Tell me, and let me be the judge of its offence or not.”

“My sister has a boy just a few years from becoming a man, and he has a terrible pain in his jaw, making his cheek swell. I think it has something to do with his teeth. I wondered if High Chief John could do anything to help, but I am sure the boy doesn’t want to be prodded by John’s potent rod!”

John smiled broadly, and intervened, “Delica, being prodded by my rod is fine for women, as it is the fastest way to put my healing power into her, particularly if it is an ailment affecting the whole body, but it is not the only way.

My power can be applied direct to the ailment if it is in a specific site, so the boy need have no fear of me prodding him in his rear end. I can spread some of my spit on his cheek, where it hurts, and my power will start to act. I cannot say how long before it will be effective, but I am certain it will cure the boy after some time. Has he not been given some medicine to relieve the pain?”

“His mother has given him a known herbal treatment for pain, but it cannot cope enough with bad pain, and she is afraid of giving him too much, as she has heard of bad results from giving children too strong a dose of such medicine.”

“Quite right, Delica. Overdoses can be dangerous for children and teenagers. Their bodies are more susceptible to strong reactions to large doses. Maranga, have we given you any pain-killing medicines to keep here? Wrapped-up little objects that look like seeds?”

“No, I don’t think so, dear. You have such a thing in your tribe?”

“Not so much in the tribe, but hidden away with other tools from my time. I’ll have some brought to you for use in your tribe, but you need to know how many and how often they can be swallowed, by adults and children. Treat anyone up to fifteen summers as if a child for the use of these medicines.”

He considered the matter of pain, then asked, “Do you have willow trees growing in this area of the country, Maranga?”

“I don’t know the name. What does it look like?”

“It is a plant that grows near water, either as a shrub or a tree. It produces thin straight shoots that grow upward and bend over. They can be used like reeds for making baskets.”

She shook her head with a sad look. “Sorry, not around here. Where have you seen it?”

“Mostly in a continent a long way east of here; a long, long, long way from here. Perhaps it is too warm for it here. I shall have to ask the ladies that came from my time, for they are native to that continent.”

“Why are you asking about it, John, if it is not found here?”

“Oh, I didn’t say, did I? The bark provides a substance whose effect is to reduce pain and fever in people. One of our medicines that we call ‘aspirin’ was originally derived from willow bark.”

Maranga opined, “I am not bothered where a pain reliever comes from, as long as I can get the use of it. If it comes as little wrapped seeds, that will suit me, John.”

Delica intervened, anxious. “Please, Chief, can I fetch the boy and have High Chief John do his healing on his face?”

Maranga was agreeable. “Go get him, Delica, and we can get John to try his healing on the boy. Don’t talk about this, or we will have many people at the door wanting help.”

After she had left, John told Maranga, “My nanomites that do the healing are passed over to the other person, and get absorbed into their body. This happens slowly if applied on the skin by touching or breathing on them, but placed directly inside, like when fucking, you get a faster response as the nanomites can multiply and spread more quickly through your organs and blood system. Once your body is suffused with them, you become able to pass them on to others, one way or another. I would not be surprised if that applies to you, Maranga. I think you have had them long enough to make you a carrier by now.”

“You mean, I have become a healer too?”

“That is it exactly. It is a blessing that should slowly spread through a whole tribe, making everyone able to ward off all manner of ailments, but not accidents or physical blows by enemies. The best you can expect then is a faster rate of healing.”

“Does this mean we will live longer?” Maranga wanted to know.

John pursed his lips as he mused. “I haven’t considered that very much. Perhaps we will; much depends on how you behave. If you are a soldier, the odds favour you being killed in battle, but being a mother with the nanomites inside you makes you less likely to die giving birth. Blood loss may still kill a woman in childbirth, and a baby in the wrong position in the womb may also remain a cause of death, but being poisoned through dirt getting into your cuts is not so probable: the nanomites fight the invisible killers that come with dirt. But we fight the dirt in advance through good hygiene.

Many deaths are caused by bad hygiene – not being clean enough around cuts and bruises. That is why I am keen on us all washing our bodies with great frequency, and especially so with cuts and scrapes.”

Before long Delica was back with the boy who was clearly in pain, protecting one side of his face with a hand because it was painful to the touch, and introduced him.

“This is my nephew, Trogo. As you can see, his face is swollen because of a trouble under his teeth and it is very sore for him. Can you help, High Chief John?”

“I hope so, Delica. I am pleased to meet you, Trogo: you are a very brave boy. It needs the bravery of a warrior to put up with the pain you are experiencing. In the past I have felt something of what you are going through, and it is terrible, I know.

Please sit down and I will come down to your level, so that we can be stable together. May I touch the other side of your face, where it is not sore?”

The boy nodded his approval, glad that John had not asked to touch the painful side. John touched the face, then asked, “Will you turn towards the door and the daylight, and open your mouth for me, so I can look inside, Trogo? I promise not to touch anything that might hurt.”

The boy opened his mouth a little, and John had to persist. “Open much wider if you can, Trogo. As if you are swallowing an entire gourd! A real man can do this.”

Thus encouraged, Trogo opened his mouth wide enough for John to peer inside.He saw enough to be able to diagnose an abcess in the jaw.

“Ahh, I see what the problem is: you have a hole inside your jaw, under a tooth, and a nasty invisible bug is inside, causing the pain. If I can touch the jaw above where the abcess lies, it will speed up the healing process that I can do. Are you willing to risk this, Trogo? I do not know for certain if it will hurt or not, until I touch it, but it is up to you to decide. It is a sign of bravery if you will allow this, Trogo, but I will understand if it is too much to bear. Even many warriors cannot put up with a lot of pain.”

Trogo looked John in the eyes, and saw that he could trust him.

He spoke, slowly and cautiously, ever fearful of more pain. “Just a little touch?”

John reassured him. “Just a little touch.”

The boy braced himself and said, “Do, then.”

John wet his finger with saliva from his own mouth, and slowly inserted the digit inside Trogo’s mouth, until he touched the gum near the abcess. The boy flinched, but did nothing to stop John, who next slid his finger along the gum, delivering his nanomites to the boy’s jaw. The moment there was any flinching, John whipped out his finger and announced, “Finished. That is all I intend to do, Trogo. The rest is up to your body to take on my healing power and apply it inside your jaw.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. What did you expect? An incantation, waving of hands, a frenzied dance? These do nothing but display: the healing power does it all. I gave your body the power to heal, and it will heal in its own good time. You might have pain for a while yet, but it will subside - go away slowly - as the healing takes place. How do you feel now?”

“Oh, my! I already start to feel better; the pain is not so sore as it was. This is your power acting?”

“No, not really. I am sorry to say that this is your mind telling you that you should be feeling better, so you do. The healing power takes time, as I said. Just wait, my boy; have patience.”

Delica hurriedly told him, “It was the same with me. The healing took time to work; it was not a sudden transformation. My skin got better over several days, but I felt better right from the start, like you. As the High Chief says, your mind decides you are improving, so your body reacts to that attitude and tries to feel good. I suspect the pain will leave long before you are fully healed. Is that not so, High Chief?”

“Most likely, Delica. I am still exploring what my healing power does. I only recently received this magic power.”

Trogo felt his cheek, and said wonderingly, “No, it is definitely starting to feel better. The pain is slowly receding, as Aunt Delica says, but it is happening now, little by little.”

John stared at the boy, then made a request, “May I touch your sore cheek, to test out what you say, Trogo? I will be gentle.”

The boy was hesitant, but declared in a small voice, “I am brave, almost a man. I will let you test it.”

John brought his hand slowly to the boy’s cheek, moving his hand by the millimetre as he aproached, and finally brushed the cheek like a feather’s tender touch. Trogo flinched at the perceived touch, but declared in astonishment, “That was just fear of the pain. It was enough that I felt a little bit of pain, but nothing much compared to before. What is happening, High Chief?”