Chapter 33

John commented, “At least your shaman understands how to look after wounds. That is something to be said for your tribe. What about your Chief?”

“What about him? He is not injured.”

“Ah. Does he stay away from the fighting?”

“Yes. After all, he is the Chief.”

John repeated quietly, “Yes, he is the Chief, and stays away from the fighting. That tells me everything.” Deelia and Feelia both frowned and looked at John, curious at his words. He noticed and gave them a wave off to say ‘not now.’ They nodded and left their query unvoiced. He quizzed Alia a little more, but soon had as much background as he thought he needed. He spoke softly when they finished.

“Alia, when you go back to the tribe, say nothing of meeting us. We will arrive shortly and make ourselves known as visitors. It is better this way.” His words seeped into her and she accepted them without question, for he was behaving as a good man. He had made no attempt to force himself on her. Perhaps he indeed had enough women to keep him satisfied. The three of them departed as quickly and quietly as they arrived, vanishing into the forest like wraiths of fog. Alia returned to her collecting task and went back to the tribe once her bag was full. As they prepared for their visit, John asked the women to hide the bi-cycle behind two trees that grew next to each other, tying the machine to one of the trees. They removed only what they needed for their visit; the rest could remain. John arrived at the tribe’s camp, flanked by his two guards who kept sharp eyes open all the time and their spears at the ready. Their arrival was noticed by a number of startled women, who passed word to men of the tribe, and the newcomers were shortly challenged. The question was addressed to John as the obvious leader, being a man.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” John returned his gaze to the man who challenged him, and replied gently, “High Chief John, here on a visit to a tribe I have not had the pleasure of visiting before now.”

“High Chief John? Never heard of you,” The man rudely retorted, establishing his own high status. John smiled gently, saying, “Nor have I heard of you, sir. Have you not been granted a name yet?” The man blinked at the cheeky response and quickly blurted out, “I am Blargo, Chief hunter of this tribe.”

“How interesting,” said John. “My second name is Hunter, so we have something in common.” The man blinked at this conversational gambit, but decided to perform his formal task.

“I shall escort you to our Chief. Your women can wait here.” At his words, both women moved closer to John and adopted a fighting stance. John laid a hand on Feelia’s arm to still her, but spoke to Blargo.

“My honour guard go with me wherever I visit. They protect my person,” he said with finality. Blargo looked at the women again, noticing their stance and familiarity with spears. He also took in the large knife-like objects at their belts, and adjusted his assumptions accordingly, but retained an assumption of honour meaning ceremonial only.

“Your honour guard is recognised, High Chief John,” he gave in gracefully. He led off and took them to a taller hut near the centre of the tribe’s site. He gestured, “The Chief’s hut.” A youngish man standing guard outside the doorway was told by the Chief Hunter, “Please inform the Chief that he has a visitor, a High Chief John. He brings an honour guard with him.” The warrior ducked inside the doorway to report, and returned a moment later.

“High Chief John is welcome to enter,” he said, adding, “alone.” John spoke to the sisters, “Please stand guard at the door, ladies. Enter if I call for you, or if this man tries to enter with weapons without my permission.” This obliquely gave the officious guard a warning, and he looked at the two armed women more closely. They were shorter than him, but did indeed look fierce-faced for women, so he resolved not to cross them. Angry women could be frightening, he remembered. John stepped inside and the women moved to stand by the doorway, facing outwards, one on each side, then spears grounded with a thump, held in a vertical orientation, and feet slightly apart in the ‘at ease’ stance John had shown them. The local guard was impressed by this activity, and stood between them in front of the doorway to show his own position as guard for the Chief’s hut. He adopted the stance and spear position of the women, so as not to appear less efficient. Inside, John allowed his eyes to adjust to the low light level of the interior, with the hole in the roof providing most of the illumination. The slow-burning central fire provided little light. He made out the Chief facing him, sitting by the fire on what was probably a small stool. He looked to be around the same age as John, but wore what looked like a perpetual scowl.

“You have come to visit me, I am told. For what reason, can I ask?” John informed him, “Word has come to me that this tribe was in serious disagreement with a neighbouring tribe, and the matter has not been settled, so I have come here to resolve the dispute for the benefit of both tribes.” There was a silence as the Chief absorbed this claim.

“Oh, you have, have you? On what basis do you propose to intervene? Do you have your own army?”

John replied disconcertingly. “I do, but I do not need my army with me. I have my two guards; that is enough. As I said, you and the other Chief have failed to settle things amicably, so you need a mediator to sort the matter out. I am that mediator.”

“I see. How do you expect to mediate? Tell us how to behave? I don’t need that kind of bland advice.”

“Very simply, I shall speak to you, and learn your side of the story; then I shall speak to the Chief of the other tribe and do the same. That way, I will know the opposing views and work out how the quarrel can be resolved and notify you both of the solution that I will apply.”

“That’s it? You will talk to each of us and tell us how we can solve the problem?”.

“Not exactly the words I used. To repeat, I will tell you how I will solve the problem. You will apply the decision I make. Do you have any difficulty with having your problem solved? I take it that the apparent conflict must be a drain on your resources?” There was a small moan from the surrounding gloom, but the Chief either did not hear it, or ignored it. The Chief now admitted, “There is indeed a loss. We have seen a number of men killed and some others injured, through this dispute. I am not happy with that.” John suggested, “There must also be harm caused to families, losses of tribal manufactures, hunting failures, and so on. Warfare is costly.”

“You seem to have some knowledge of this matter, High Chief. Whatever is this title of yours: High Chief?”

“I am a sort of over-chief, assisting the Chiefs of three tribes whenever they ask for my help. There is a fourth tribe that also seeks my advice, but is not officially part of my domain. I also act as war leader when our army is required, and supervise the training of warriors to be a force that can act at short notice.”

“Oh, yes. My guard says you have an honour guard, of two women. Do you not have with you warriors to act in that position?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why not bring these warriors instead of a couple of bedmates? You might get superior recognition.”

“Chief, perhaps I did not make myself clear to your male guard. My honour guard is of warriors.”

“My man said they were women,” the Chief contradicted John.

“My warrior guard today happens to consist of women. My female warriors can defeat almost all male warriors, at any time, so I am happy to have them guarding me.” The Chief goggled at what John was stating so matter-of-factly. He declared in turn, “Women are only good for pleasing men. I must hear from my own men about these women of yours. I will call in my guard to check the facts.”

“I am sorry, but my guards have been instructed not to allow your guard to enter with weaponswhile I am here, unless I give my permission. It is a matter of my security. Do you want to call in your Chief hunter, who led us here? I would prefer someone like him instead of a guard who might get hurt by my warriors.”

“That would do. Blargo is reliable, if somewhat lenient toward women.” The Chief stood and went to the doorway. “Blargo, are you out there?”

“I am, Chief Halvo. Do you wish me to enter?”

“I do. I need your opinion.” John called out, “Guards, let him enter.” Blargo bent to come inside and nodded to John before addressing his Chief.

“How can I help you, Chief Halvo?”

“These women who came as his honour guard: what is your candid assessment of them?”

“Dangerous women, Chief. I have been watching them since they arrived. They are clearly trained warriors, not soft unprepared women. I would be wary of engaging them in battle.”

“That is what I wanted to know, Blargo. You may go.” After the hunter had left, Chief Halvo spoke to John again.

“Your claims appear well-founded, High Chief. What will you do next, if I allow you to have the facts?”

“I shall make a similar visit to the Chief of the other tribe, and put the same proposal to him. I presume the Chief is a man?”

“Of course, what else?”

“Two of my tribes have female Chiefs; the others have male Chiefs.”

“You ARE an unusual High Chief.”

“I think I am the ONLY High Chief at present. I dislike the alternative term, King; it has bad connotations.”

“Oh. But you are in a position like being a King?”

“Like that but without being treated as a very special person.”

“Yet you want to take on a job as a lowly mediator?”

“I like the idea of persuading people to stop fighting each other. To me, that is not a job, but a proper task for a man of power. I can apply power where I have to. We recently persuaded an invading army to retreat from this part of the country.” This struck Chief Halvo heavily; this calm reference to dispersing an invading army as if it was a simple negotiation. This High Chief was not a man to be brushed aside, he realised. John now demanded factual information about the dispute’s origin. Halvo obliged.

“It is not clear, but someone from the other tribe – or from this one – intruded over the border, and was challenged.This led to a counter-challenge, moving swiftly to a fist fight. Tempers were inflamed, and the next intrusion met with armed response. It has continued on both sides ever since, for the boundary is not a marked line and it is easy to transgress.”

“So we have a minor boundary dispute that has escalted to conflict on occasion, and no-one is clear about who started it. I must clarify this with the other tribe, if the Chief will speak with me.”

“Go ahead then, and speak with the other Chief. He is a distant relative of mine, so if he knows I agreed to you as mediator, he will probably agree as well.” There was another slight moan that John noted, but again was ignored by the Chief. This annoyed John.

“His name?” John abruptly enquired, to keep the conversation going.

“Hellafelo,” the Chief told him. John almost laughed at the picture that came to his mind from his mental image of that name, but he retained his official poise.

“I shall visit Chief Hellafelo as soon as I can,” he intoned sombrely. “Which direction does his territory lie?”

“This one,” the Chief said, pointing. “That is, if you go direct, but you might be mistaken for one my warriors and attacked. The alternative is to go round and arrive from another direction and appear harmless.” John considered, and made his decision.

“We shall go direct, and announce our presence as we go. There should be no mistaken identity; but first, please note that I am a Shaman as well as a High Chief, so it is my responsibility and duty to attend to the person in this home who is in pain.” Chief Halvo retorted, “I have my own Shaman!”

“Then you do not make correct use of your Shaman. I shall take the patient out into the light, so that he and I can get a look at what ails the patient.”

Halvo insisted, “It is just a woman! It doesn’t matter.”

John informed him, “It matters to me. I look at the ailments of all, man or woman.” He stood and raised his voice, “Woman who is unwell? Can you move by yourself?”

The woman’s voice whispered, “Yes, if freed, but the Chief won’t allow me to go out.”

John glared at Halvo.

“No man treats an unwell woman in that way, unless he is not a proper man!” He faced to the woman and declared, “I, Shaman John of Chief Numa’s tribe, order you to go outside, woman. Chief Halvo has made himself unfit to be a man in the matter.” The woman whispered again, “I need help to move, and my daughter needs to be with me.”

Halvo hissed his displeasure, but John simply called, “Deelia! Feelia! Come and assist two patients out to the fresh air.” Outside, the women pointed their spears at the young guard and ordered, “Step aside!” The suddenly scared young man did as he was told, and the sisters entered. John pointed to where the sound of the woman came from, and they hurried over, picked up the woman and carried her outside. They laid her down, glared at the male guard and ordered, “Stay with her!” and returned inside. John had remained facing Halvo and waited as the sisters found the terrified girl and hustled her outside. John asked the Chief, “Is there anyone else here that I should attend to? Anyone?” The man stammered, “No.” Then John told Halvo, “Sit and don’t move, or you are dead!” He strode out to the light and looked at the woman and her daughter. Both had bruised faces and arms, and John’s breath was taken away in shock.

“Who did this?” He demanded. The woman was silent, but the girl admitted, “Daddy did it to me because I didn’t want him putting his thing inside me.” The mother gasped as the facts came out to this strange man. John asked gently, “How old are you, girl? How many summers?”

The girl looked over at her mother, who admitted, “Thirteen summers, nearly. She is not yet a woman.”

“Yet her father assaulted her – I presume Chief Halvo is actually her father?” John questioned the mother. She nodded in dejection.

“Yes. This only started recently,” she tried to apologise for her husband. John wanted to clarify that also.

“He is your husband? Can you declare that to be true?”

“Yes. He was nice when we first married, but changed.” John looked over her face with its terrible bruising. He gestured at her face.

“How long has this been going on? Is this recent too?” She looked down as she said quietly, “Several years. He hit me from time to time because I was not producing any more children.”

“I see. That is a reason for hitting a woman, in his mind? Stupid man. Why did my guards have to carry you?” She gestured towards her feet.

“He hobbled me so I can only shuffle a bit at a time. It is uncomfortable and sore, but I daren’t complain.”

“Feelia, lift her dress so I can see.” The woman was horrified at such exposure, but John ignored that. Feelia lifted the dress while John got out his large knife. he cut through the bindings between her ankles, then cut off the remaining leather straps round her legs. This revealed the red chafing on her legs around her ankles.

“Hmmph! We need salve for that problem. Deelia, find the wise woman or the shaman, and ask for soothing salve for her legs. Also ask for pain-relieving herbs for her bruises. These two are now my patients. If the shaman says anything about this being his tribe, tell him his failure to look after this woman and girl means they have become my patients, not his. The wise woman would not have known of the problem, as most people would come to her, rather than the other way round. The Shaman does not have that excuse; he has only ignorance.” As he spoke, his attention was drawn to the young guardsman, who was coming over to them from the doorway. John watched him carefully, and when he was close enough, said to him, “You have something on your mind, young man?”

“Ugh, yes. The Chief has asked me to chase you away, but I don’t think your lady warriors would allow that to happen.”

“Not only that, but I could defeat you without drawing a weapon. Training, you know,” he explained gently. The eyes of the guard widened as he became aware that John meant what he said. He cleared his throat and said, “So could we make it appear that I tried to chase you away, and you defeated me – without us actually doing anything?”

“That would be sensible. Consider it done. As the defeated warrior, do you need to go back and report your defeat, or should we disarm you and tie your hands to prevent you going back to the Chief?” The young man stared down at the forgotten spear in his hand and said stupidly, “Disarm me? How?” John used the edge of his hand to impact on the hand holding the weapon, and the spear clattered to the ground as his hand opened in shock.

“Like this?” asked John, standing on the spear to prevent it being picked up. The man felt tears come to his eyes with the sharp pain in his hand.

“Yes. That hurt, High Chief.”

“It had to do that, to make you drop the spear, but you now know what I am talking about. A trained warrior could not be disarmed like that. Deelia and Feelia have that training.”

“Wow! They could defeat me as easily as that?”

“Yes. One of them was once abducted and the other trailed the kidnapper until she caught up. With my help we released her sister, so they both wanted to be able to resist any such future attempt. They have achieved their target and are competent warriors by this time. Now, this Chief Halvo: is he a coward or a brave man?”

“I do not know, High Chief? How could I tell?”

“Does he lead in battle? Does he take part in training the warriors? Does he organise the tactics for battle? That sort of question.”

“Not that I have heard of, High Chief. In fact, I don’t know what these things are that you speak about. Fighting is not organised the way you say. Mostly, he stays in his Chief’s hut and issues orders. He only comes out to visit the Elders Hut of Discussion, to listen to what is said, then he returns when he is satisfied with their wisdom.”

“Have you ever seen him armed with weapons?”

“No, High Chief. He gets other people to do such things. He says he has to protect his special clothing as Chief.” John smiled. “I would just take off my clothing during any practice fighting. Why does he not do that simple thing?”

“I do not know, High Chief. He has never suggested doing that. Looking after his Chief’s garments seems to be his main concern.”

“Right. Once we have the mother and daughter treated, they are NOT going back to him. He has forfeited his right to them. I will tell him that now.” John marched over to the Chief’s hut and stood outside, calling out, “Chief Halvo, you need to come out here right away.” The man took his time, but eventually stooped at the doorway, looking out with a blank face. John grabbed his arm and pulled him through.

“Stand up straight, man. We need to have a serious talk.”

Halvo seem apprehensive, but came out with, “Who are you to make such demands? I am the Chief.”

“For now, you are. However, you are also a wife-beater and a child-molester, and that cannot be allowed to continue. Your woman needs to be properly looked after, and your daughter needs to be kept away from you and your disgraceful behaviour that a true Chief must never even think of doing. You have lost all your rights as a father, and also your rights as a husband. I, High Chief John, have spoken, and it will be so.”

“But...”

John glared balefully at him.

“Would you prefer me to utter a death sentence for molesting your daughter? My female guards would happily despatch you to the Earth Mother. They don’t like men who treat young girls as women to be abused.” The man looked shocked, then terrified as he glanced at the fiercely watching female warrior, and stared at John’s equally frightening face. He finally found some words.

“Can I stay as Chief?” He was suitably cowed by now.

“You can remain as Chief, but do not try to give any orders. Leave your senior tribe members to do what is necessary. I have to go visit the other tribe’s Chief. When I come back, if I find you have made any attempt to take back or mistreat your wife and daughter, I will have you killed, if I don’t decide to kill you myself. Is that clear?”

“Yes, High Chief.”

“Your guard here can be used to obtain your food and drink, but you must remain in your hut except for shitting and peeing.”

“Yes, High Chief.”

“Now, go back inside.” Feelia had been watching this exchange, as had the young guard, and Feelia wore a face that promised only death. Deelia arrived with the tribe’s Shaman, an elderly man who looked frightened by the imposing female warrior escorting him. He addressed John, with a surprised glance at the disappearing Chief.

“I am Shaman Toledo. I am told there is a woman and a girl needing medical attention.”

“Yes,” John told him, pointing. “This woman has been badly beaten. Do you know how to treat bruises and ascertain whether there are any broken bones?” The old man informed John, “Youngster, I have had to treat all the injured men for weeks now, so I have become well placed to do such work.”

“Let me inform you, old man, that I am a well-known Shaman, fully trained in medical work, but I do not have my tools and balms with me. I am told you either have them or have access to them. Is that so?”

“It is. I have been stocking up on what is needed for the men’s injuries. Treating injured women is unusual.”

“What is also unusual is that the woman is the Chief’s wife and he has been beating her for a long time. I have removed her from his control, and she must remain away from him, by my orders. Secondly, this girl is his daughter and he has also been ill-treating her in the worst possible way. Her women’s parts need to be examined for bruises, so do you have a woman competent to attend to that part of her treatment?” The Shaman stared at the cowering girl, and was horrified.

“Why was I not told of this before?”

“They were not allowed out of the hut. I had to remove them, in my authority as a High Chief. It is now your responsibility to treat them as my honoured patients until they are well and able to be rehoused. They will not go back to Chief Halvo. I have spoken.”

“Yes, High Chief and Shaman. Will you be around for consultation?”

“I will, once I have visited the tribe you are having a dispute with. I have decided to end this unnecessary conflict.”

“You have? You will do it by yourself? All on your own?”

“I will make the decision. It is then up to the tribes to stick with my decision.” The Shaman shook his head in confusion.

“I don’t understand. How and why will they obey you?”

“You mean, apart from me being a High Chief, therefore above the Chiefs in the social hierarchy?”

“Well, yes. I can see the Chiefs accepting your authority, but why would an ordinary warrior listen to you after you have left?”

“He won’t. He will listen to the instructions of his Chief.”

“So you will depend on the Chiefs following your instructions?”

“That is correct. You will see, once everyone is aware of my instructions. That has to await my negotiations with both Chiefs.”

“Then you will return here to make sure the woman and her daughter are well looked after?”

“I will do that, yes; among other things.” Shaman Toledo saw he was not going to get more information, so dropped the questioning.

“The woman: I can treat her with my healing salves and herbs for preventing pain, or at least lessening it. I need the tribe’s Wise Woman to deal with the girl’s woman parts. Shriva knows more about what is normal in a woman and what is not, and what the best treatment is for her. Abuse of children is not something I am familiar with, thank the Earth Mother.”

“May I send my guard to fetch her, Shaman?” The Shaman was surprised at the deference now being shown to him as a Shaman. He assumed it was Shaman to Shaman politeness. He replied in kind.

“Please do that, High Chief and honoured Shaman. Have her ask for Shriva, and have her tell Shriva about the patient, so Shriva will know what medicines she should bring from her supplies.”

“Deelia? Will you do that, my dear?” John asked.

“At once, High Chief John.” She hurried away to ask questions, but still holding her spear at the ready as she trotted along.

“Feelia?”

“Yes, High Chief John?”

“Do you think you both should accompany me to the other tribe; or should we leave Deelia here to make sure that Chief Halvo obeys my rules?” He was being stared at in shock by Shaman Toledo, the woman and her daughter; all astonished that he should consult a female on a decision of importance. Feelia thought about it for a minute, then replied.

“If we put the fear of death into Chief Halvo, we can both go with you, for you should have full protection while entering a warring tribe for the first time. It would be prudent, John.” Her use of his name without the honorific also sent shock waves through the others, especially when the High Chief did not react adversely at this apparent rudeness.

“Thanks, Feelia. Your assessment agrees with mine, but I wanted to be sure I had it right. A woman’s intuition is to be valued.” Deelia brought the Wise Woman, and she took the girl aside to examine and treat her. It took some time to sort out with Toledo where and how the wife and daughter of the disgraced Chief would be tended and housed, but once the details were agreed, John and his warriors accepted a meal and an empty hut to spend the night in. John this time accepted their loving requests. In the morning, after a final check on the patients, the trio set off to venture towards the other tribe, going straight towards the disputed boundary. As they approached the boundary they sang a ditty thought up by John and sung to a catchy old tune he recalled from his youth. The words were in the line of “We are off to see a new Chief, the wonderful Chief of the tribe; we are here to talk to your Chief, the wonderful Chief of your tribe.” This raucous song was so loud that no-one could miss hearing them, and by the same token, no-one could think from the words that harm was intended. That assumption was confirmed when they were confronted by four men carrying spears, who demanded to know what they were doing. John told them, “We are here on a visit, to meet your Chief and have a discussion.”

“Oh, yes? And where have you come from?”

“We visited the other tribe, talked with the Chief, and told him we were coming to visit your Chief,” John explained. “My intention is to solve the dispute between you.”

“How?”

“By discussion of the facts. The discussion is with your Chief, not with anyone else,” John warned him.

“Hmmph. You are all armed, I notice.”

“Correct. We had a long way to come, and who knows what we might have encountered in the forest trails. Now that we are here, lete me inform you that my warriors are my honour guard, to protect me from surprise attack.”

“Wait a minute. Your warriors? I don’t see any men. Are you referring to your women?”

“Of course. They are trained warriors, able to deal with any enemy. There is not much point in them being my guard otherwise,” John insisted. The man blinked in surprise.

“You have female warriors? Proper warriors? Really?” John admitted, “All our women are trained in being warriors, some more trained than others, but all competent, and many have participated in a battle.”

“In a battle? How many have you lost?”

“None. One minor injury, but no deaths.” The man scoffed at the notion.

“Come on! No battle occurs without a lot of injuries and some deaths!”

“Ah, then you are referring to battles as you conduct them, old style. We fight differently, mostly during the night.” The man’s jaw dropped.

“No-one fights at night! You can’t see what you are doing.”

“Not true. If you do without a light for a while, your eyesight adjusts and you can see quite a lot, just from the stars and moonlight; and then if your enemies use lamps or campfires, they are unable to see you beyond their lamplight circle and you can attack them with arrows and spears without being seen. This enables you to leave the scene without facing the enemy, one to one; much safer for your side.”

“That is cowardly.”

“No, that is clever. Cowardly is refusing to fight. Fighting our way means all your forces remain intact, ready to fight later. Why would you want some of your forces injured, if it is not necessary?”

“That is a weird way of thinking.”

“You may be accurate in that description, but it is weird thinking that tends to solve problems in conflict. You have a conflict that I want to solve with your Chief. Can you lead us to him, or to her, if the Chief is a woman.”

“No Chief is a woman, stranger.”

“Wrong. I personally know of two tribes where the Chief is a woman. They are well-organised tribes.”

“Even if that happens to be true, our Chief is a man.”

“Then lead us to him.”

“You can’t see him, still armed.”