Chapter 6

“John, I get an impression of you as a leader of a local civilisation expanding not through warfare but through trade and influence. Could I be right?”

“There is a distinct possibility that might be the situation, Duke. I like the idea, but much depends on what happens over the next few years, and the effects we have, through interaction with other power groups such as your army and the northern civilisation. The local tribes will also be part of the development of our group. I would like to recruit them to my cause.

There is another factor: a certain Duke and his actions or inaction. What can I expect from that direction?”

Drago beamed a happy smile.

“John, based on what I have learned from you, I will be quite willing to keep what I have heard to myself. My former colleagues can go their own way, for I foresee them becoming less and less powerful as time goes on. They are a collection of tribal leaders with varying approaches to warfare, nothing cohesive. This worked as long as the opponents collapsed through illness and backwardness, plus lack of cooperation, an inability to band together for defence. These warriors only thought in terms of tribal disputes so were unprepared for facing an organised army.

Once your health improvements spread around the tribes here, they will have an interest in being trained in defensive procedures and so being more resilient to being conquered. My own former side, their momentum lost, will fall apart through squabbling and so be ineffective in the future, unlikely to return this way.

That is how I see it, so I have no desire to be involved in that debacle. I will have patience and seek passage to the northern civilisation; then I can compare it to your own burgeoning group of tribes.”

John told him, “Have fun. Their leaders are from the same land as myself but as I said, they have superior tools and equipment. Their social arrangements are different, though, just like variations between tribes. They found themselves in an environment quite different from here, so have coped in their own way, such as building these huge ships. I found myself inland, so ships did not come into my thought processes.”

Drago furrowed his brows, and asked, “You have more than once said ‘found myself’ or ‘found themselves’. What does that mean? It sounded like you and they had no control over events. Were you shipwrecked, or lost from a caravan? And why would you and they, so different, have the same experience?”

John paused, and tried to put his story into a framework that Drago would understand.

“Drago, do you accept that magical things can happen; things that are impossible to explain sensiby?”

“There are many things in life that are difficult to explain, I agree, but most are simple to accept. Magic, now, that is much less clear. Most magic is small-scale: making an object appear or disappear for example. Is that what you mean?”

“No. Something much greater in size and extent. My story, and that of the northerners, is a tale of displacement. At different occasions, I and they were sent suddenly, in moments, back in time from our own land into this one, with no way of returning home. We had no control over events at the time, but the magicians who performed the sending did not correctly understand their magic.

The magicians expected to be able to control the past through us affecting our future, but this world is not what they imagined. The world we are in now is not exactly the same as the world we left, in its past or future. What happens in this world does not have any result in the world we came from. It is a new world entirely. Does that make sense to you?”

“I am not sure,” admitted Drago. “Does this mean that you were a magician yourself, and got accidentally thrown into this world?”

“Not in the slightest, Drago. I was a victim of these nasty people, and so were the northerners when it happened to them: a different bunch of magicians making the same errors as the first lot. In both cases, some material was sent to us, as a means of helping us survive wherever we were. One of the materials sent to me was the flat wood panels that you see down there, and some tools for putting them together. You see, I was sent what THEY thought I required, which is not the same as what I really needed. Where I ended up is not exactly where they expected, and the same applies to the northerners, but they got more materials and equipment than I got. Their magicians were more generous in provisions, but it was still irreplaceable.

All of us came from a world more advanced than this one, so with an advantage over the locals through superior knowledge. No locals know how to build big ships, so I knew there was something unusual about the builders. I was fortunate in that I arrived with my past knowledge of fighting as part of a superior army. That is part of the reason you think I am so clever. In reality, I am just better informed about many worldly things, such as how a rainbow forms, and important human facts such as eating only meat is bad for you in the long term. You must include vegetable matter in your diet to remain healthy: fruit, nuts, roots, greens, and so on. Those who know such basics eat more healthily.”

Drago mused, “This is a great magic if true, but I do not think there is any way to prove its truth. Magic is not easily explainable, and if you are the victim of the magic, you will know even less about it.

You are a clever man, though, for knowledge on its own achieves little: it is how it is used that matters. You have shown you know how to use knowledge.”

Numa interrupted, “High Chief John speaks truth, Duke Drago. As my husband, he has told his tale to me in slightly different words, but essentially the same. He is also an honourable man; a reliable husband and protector, and he has shown me how a woman can be freed from a traditional past and achieve prominence by her own efforts. When John invited me to take over as Chief, I did not believe I could do the task. He thought otherwise, and I found that I actually could do the job. I do it well, according to John. He defers to me about other women in his life. I have the last say over whether a woman can become another wife. He leaves that decision to me, not to himself. Have you ever heard of a wife being given that power, Duke Drago?”

“Never, in all my life. Women have always been subservient to their husbands, and additional wives were always the decision of the husband.”

Numa stared him in the face and challenged, “How many times has this policy succeeded, that all his wives remain happy with him and each other?”

Drago said, thinking about it, “It is always accepted that jealousy prevents wives from living in harmony. They fight to become top woman in a household.”

“Well, I was John’s first wife, and all the others know that I approved of them before they joined our family. That gives me their respect and honour. We never have any jealousy in our household, no matter how many wives John has; and he has many now. He is a powerful man among the tribes.”

“That is a brave claim to make, Chief Numa. Could I ask any of his other wives that question about lack of jealousy?”

“Feel free to do so, Duke. I am certain of the response.”

John called out, “Vickie? Can you come over here, darling?”

Vickie came to join them a minute or so later, saying, “Sorry I couldn’t come immediately, John. I was finding out something I needed to know. How can I help?”

“Duke Drago wants to know how my wives view each other. Care to tell him? He knows some of us came from another world, so you can accept that knowledge base to start with.”

Vickie told Drago, “Duke, in the world we came from, John was close to me, and we expected to marry eventually. He vanished completely, and I thought he had met with an accident. Some men came to me and promised to bring me to him, and I went with them. It was a trick, and they thrust me into a machine – I suppose you could call it a magic box – and I appeared here, shocked but alive, and found John with his new tribe. By then he was married to Numa, Noma, Gomla, Gimla and Gerva, as he thought he had lost me forever and they were willing and anxious to marry a competent man.

I thought I had lost him to them, for in our society it is one man and one woman in a marriage, but he asked me to marry him now. However, he declared that as Numa was his first wife in this land she had to be treated as the most important in the family for practical reasons. It was a tough choice, but I saw no other way of getting him to be my husband, so I agreed. It has worked out well. I respect Chief Numa’s local expertise and knowledge, and she respects my special knowledge from my previous world. I get on well with the other wives also, which amazed me at first, but I accept it as normality now. We are all of us expecting John’s children and are agreed to treat them all the same, as OUR children in one family.

That is about it, Duke. Does that suit you, John?”

“You are wonderful as always, Vickie: a marvellous wife and mother-to-be.”

Vickie beamed her delight, kissed John tenderly and said to Drago, “If you will excuse me, Duke Drago, I have work to get back to. Listen to my man; it is worth it.”

“Thank you, my dear. I echo your husband’s praise. You are a very good-looking woman as well.”

Vickie left with a spring in her step.

Chief Numa gazed at Drago and enquired, “Well, Duke Drago?”

“I bow to your excellent knowledge and leadership, Chief Numa. You run your household well and with a calmness that bodes well for the future. For a Chief so young and yet so mature, I am amazed at your achievements.”

Numa granted him a soft bow of her head. “Thank you, Duke Drago. I shall leave you and High Chief John to conclude your discussions. My baby forces me to attend to important bodily functions more frequently than normal.”

“I understand, Chief. My wife had the same problems with our children, many years back.”

John frowned as he asked, “Do you not want to go back to your family, Duke? Visiting the northerners seems the wrong direction for you.”

A shadow ran across Duke Drago’s face, and his eyes misted. “They are dead, John. An unfortunate fire swept through our village, and both my sons died fighting the flames. My wife later killed herself in her grief for them; she was too old to have more children and decided her life was over. There was some suspicion that the fire was started by a disenchanted warrior, as some troopers had been punished for lack of discipline; but no-one could show that these persons were present near the spot where the fire was presumed to have started. I involved myself in the army to help me forget my losses. Killing myself seemed a waste of what talents I have, in the few years I have left to me.”

John patted him on the arm, in sympathy. “A sad story, Duke Drago. Have you not found a woman to offer solace since then? You do not appear that old.”

“I am all of forty-five summers, so near the end of my life, and I saw no sense in burdening a woman with my sorrows, John.”

“Forty-five is not old, Drago my friend, not in my estimation. You should have twenty or thirty years ahead of you if your health keeps up, and when I shook hands with you earlier, I passed my health magic to you. Look to the future. The right woman might be able to bear you a new child for you to love, my friend. Never forget those lost loves, but look forward to the future as well. Your wife forgot that love between a husband and a wife can survive loss of children. The future is never the same as the present, and life can be harsh. You have to be resilient to survive realities.

The renegades from your army who stole a sea merchants’ ship and turned pirates? They killed men and boys in coastal tribes who tried to defend their villages, leaving many women mourning their men. Such ladies seldom gave up on their lives. Most have gone on to find a new man to love and go forward with a future to look forward to. There is nothing to stop you doing the same, and meeting a woman who will love you.”

“Is this encouragement intended to stop me from going to meet the northerners, John?”

“No, of course not. It is only to stop you wanting to meet the Earth Mother before your due time.

You could take your new woman with you, and enjoy her favours while you travel. You could do the same for her: showing her the joys of loving sex between a man and woman who envisage a life together as one. You do not have to seek a young woman in the first flush of youth, who might tire you out with enthusiasm. A mature woman, still able to have children, may be a better choice, as she will know how to love an older man. In this tribe there are a few such women, mostly widows; there are others in the fishing village, and probably more elsewhere. Widows always number more than widowers, as men tend to get themselves killed by fighting other men or animals, or simply by doing something stupid, like climbing a cliff without care.”

Drago looked slightly disturbed. “I am not sure I would or could, or even should commit myself at this time, John. I am not the sort of man who jumps into the first stream he comes across, to see what it feels like. It might be too deep for wading.”

“No-one is pushing you, Duke. I was simply displaying the options that are open to you; more options than I think you realised were available. Take time to think about them, for it is your life. You are no longer involved in conducting the movements of your army, so you haven’t any urgent demands on your time and energy; you are free.”

Drago said nothing for a while, until his bodyguard slowly made his way closer to his charge.

“Uh, my lord?”

“Yes, Remble?”

“Are you all right? You haven’t called, but you were taking so long I got worried that you hadn’t summoned me.”

“I am as I am, Remble. I have been disturbed by some things I have learned, and I have a lot of thinking to do. Did you enjoy your discussions with the tribespeople?”

“Indeed, sir. These people are extremely active as a tribe, making new things and doing new things that I had never heard of, as well as stuff that I expected. They make a thing called soap to make washing easier, and a slippery version for washing your hair. Then they make soft leather footwear made to your exact foot shape. It seems that everyone has a slightly different shape of foot, so that explains why soldiers footwear never seems to fit properly: it is made for the ordinary expected shape that practically nobody has! They say they can make me a pair if I wait for them.”

Drago blinked, but asked, “You would like to stay until the footwear is made?”

Remble suddenly remembered his position. “Yes; but that is if it happens to suit my lord. I shall of course abide by your timing, Duke.”

Drago commented, “This tribe has made an impact on you, Remble. Why is that?”

“My lord; all the members of this tribe treat each other as equals. Even the Chief can be spoken to if you have a grievance, without fear of being punished for bringing it up. It is amazing.”

“You do not need to fear me if you have a problem, or a question to ask, Remble. I am sure you know that.”

“I do, Duke, thank you. You are a kind master, and I am most grateful for that treatment. This tribe, though, have a most unusual style of organisation. They have a Chief who is a woman: the esteemed Chief Numa, who is much liked and respected, but otherwise there appears to be little difference between men and women among members of the tribe, no matter what the trade involved. A man can be a cook and a woman a Maker. The choice is one of ability to do the job, and I have seen some useless male warriors in my time with the army. We have cooks in the army that can’t cook well and have no wish to make the food tasty. Most women would do the job better, if we allowed women into the army. Currently only whores are allowed to be associated with the army. I get the impression that the people of this tribe have a better deal all round.”

Drago looked at the man in astonishment. “I had no idea you were so observant and able to convey your thoughts so well, Remble.”

“That was not my job description, my lord. I did what was required by the job. What use would my other talents be, in the army? I would be seen as a malcontent, a rebel, or simply as an oddity.”

“If you stay with me, Remble, you have my permission to converse and pass on your observations on life around us. I value competence, in whatever sphere. Unfortunately, my fellow leaders did not display competence, so I am better away from them. You may have heard that I was forcibly persuaded to leave the leadership group.”

“I did hear that, my lord Duke, but it was not my position to remark on that action.”

“Good man!” Drago exclaimed. “You have all the attributes necessary to be anything you want to be. Good sense in what to say and when, is the primary one, and you have that. Tell me, Remble, if I decide to go on a search for the northern army people, are you willing to take time on that quest, or do you have a family who would like you home?”

It had not previously occurred to Drago to ask his bodyguard such personal details. He was recognising how little he knew of the men who worked for him; even Parsival, his master of beasts, was a stranger to the Duke, despite his ready commitment to his master.

Remble trembled a little at having to address his master on the subject of family. Drago encouraged him, “Speak truly, man.”

“My lord, my birth family was lost many years ago, when the army destroyed my village. I was the sole survivor of my family as I had potential as a slave to them. I spent a year as a slave of the army before seeing my way out: being persuaded to join the army as a warrior. I showed that I could learn the ways of the warrior, and later developed the abilities to be accepted as a bodyguard to important officers.”

Drago recalled, “Yes. I remember asking for a reliable and competent bodyguard some time back, and got you. You have served me well, Remble, and I will be amenable to assisting you should you wish to return to civilian life at any time. I say that for the reason that I am similarly too committed to military duty. It is time I adopted civilian trappings and ways, possibly even a wife in time. Should you find a woman whom you wish to marry or otherwise take to yourself and settle down, let me know and we shall see about a possible replacement as my bodyguard.”

Overhearing this discussion, John interrupted. “Duke Drago, you might not have a need for a bodyguard, if you have friends who can protect you from men or animals.”

Drago started, imperiously, “No bodyguard? But I have always had a bodyguard!”

“Perhaps,” John agreed, “But for what purpose? Who or what is the bodyguard to protect you from, in the past or future?”

Drago replied, “Undisciplined soldiers might have been a problem in the past, or unruly local tribesmen. In the future, who knows what I may be up against?”

John pointed out, “None of us in this tribe, or in the Farfarers, or the fishing village, has a need for a bodyguard. We protect each other from wild animals, and a rogue individual can usually be controlled by other members of the tribe. Unexpected attacks by a pirate group or similar band is not something that a single bodyguard can help with, except to help you run away.”

Drago stoutly declared, “I would not run away!”

John told him bluntly, “Then you are a fool. At times, running away is the best option for even a brave man, so you should not dismiss that possibility lightly, my friend.”

His statement was followed by a blast from a trumpet down by the forest’s edge. “What the hell is that?” John queried, while Drago looked alarmed.

Numa chuckled. “An animal horn with the point cut off and smoothed so you can blow a noise out of it. Raka thought it up as a warning call; good, isn’t it?”

“It is, and loud enough. Who is the call about?”

“A single blast means a friend; two blasts mean an enemy or possible enemy, thus a warning. This must be someone known to us.”

She gestured towards the sound of the horn.

Out of the trees came a man astride a peculiar contraption. As they stared at the man, it became clear that he was on a two-wheeled object that he was propelling with his feet. At the back of it was a large basket atop another wheel which was linked to the first two wheels, and behind that a woman walked tiredly.

A gasp came from Sheila as she recognised what she was seeing.

“John – my god, that is a dandy-horse!”

“A what? It looks something like a bike, but without pedals and chain,” John replied.

“That’s what a dandy-horse was: an early forerunner of the bicycle. The device was also called a velocipede - a walking-fast machine - as a pedestrian powered wheeled vehicle. It was later pushed along using cranks and pedals instead of pushing with alternate feet on the ground.”

“Sorry, I missed that in my history lessons, Sheila. Glad you saw what it is.”

The rider stepped off the wooden horse machine and pushed it up the slope. The third wheel with its basket followed behind, and the following woman trudged up the slope. John finally recognised the man.

“That’s Brando with the bike or whatever it is. The woman looks familiar too,” John declared.

Chief Numa announced, “Well, I have never seen her before. Where did you meet her, John?”

John burst out, “Oh, my blessed aunt, that’s Decala. She must have decided to come here with Brando. I wonder why?”

Numa glowered, asking in persistence, “And who exactly is this Decala?”

John blushed as he replied, “My extra concubine: the woman that weaves cloth.”

Numa’s face cleared. “Ah. That is all right, then. I wanted to meet this weaving person that caught your interest. But why is she here? Did you invite her? Has Chief Maranga sent her, or what?”

“Wait and you can ask her, my darling,” said John, relieved that the matter was resolved without more hassle for him.

Numa now muttered, “Dandy-horse! Whatever a horse or a dandy is; or a felossipeed: an even weirder name for the object. I hope Brando can explain what it is, in words that make sense.”

However, when Brando arrived at the cave, he turned to Decala, and asked her about the cargo in his basket. “Where do you want this stuff put, Decala?”

“I’ll carry it into the cave, Brando, and put it together again. Thank you for helping me get it here. I had better report to High Chief John and Chief Numa before I do anything else.”

She picked up the weaving frame parts and carried them inside, looking for any face she knew, but only her master, John, was recognisable.

“High Chief John! Can I show you what I have brought?”

John came forward to greet her. “Hello, Decala. Is this the thing you use for weaving your cloth?”

“It is, High Chief. It needs to be put together, then laid somewhere safe until it can be copied by your own maker. Brando made this one some time back. Should I report to Chief Numa at once?”

“You had better do that. She is interested in the idea of weaving cloth, so don’t be afraid to talk with her.” He whispered to her, “She is fine with you as my concubine.” He took her hand and led her to Numa.

“Chief Numa? May I present Decala, weaver of cloth, and my concubine if you approve of her?”

Numa looked the woman up and down, nodded to herself and demanded. “You have a boy, I am told. Where is he?”

“My Chief, he has remained with my sister Delica back at the Farfarers tribe, as he is still recovering from his ailment that High Chief John has cured. It takes time for the swelling to go down and all the pain disappear, I am told.”

“Delica? Is that the woman with the skin problems?”

“She was, but is now cured. She has also asked to be a concubine to the High Chief.”

“Oh, that one. Now pregnant, I believe? A result that made her appeal to John for that status, if my understanding is right.”

“Yes, Chief. Being concubine to the High Chief is much preferable to being pregnant without a father you can identify, but John knows how to make a woman satisfied between the legs, so I am a happy woman if you approve of both of us.”

“You have tested him out on this?”

“I have, Chief. He is good at the task, as I am sure you know.” Her glance lit on Numa’s swelling belly. Numa smiled. “I do, as do many others. Expect to also be pregnant soon. Your talent at the weaving is of more immediate concern to me. Are you able to perform your trade in this location?”

“The location does not matter, as long as I have the material to weave together on my loom – that is what the frame is called. Do you have suitable material available, Chief Numa?”

“What have you used so far?”

“Material from a plant that produces white balls of fluffy stuff. That white stuff can be pulled out into long fibres and the fibres can be persuaded to curl together into a long thread. It is that thread that we use.”

Numa grumbled, “Don’t know it. Sheila! Do you recognise this plant that Decala is talking about for weaving?”

Sheila trotted over to Numa. “Yes, Chief? What is it you know about this plant?”

Numa instructed Decala, “Repeat what you described to me, woman.”

Decala patiently went through her description until suddenly Shieila exclaimed, “Cotton! You have cotton at this period, here?”

Decala said to her, “I don’t know what you mean with your odd word, but it grows in some places near here, at higher levels, I was told by those that bring it. I do not know its name, but the fluffy balls that the flower produces are white.”

“That’s cotton all right,” Sheila assured her. “Did your tribe grow it, or collect it?”

“No, it was traded for. I don’t know which tribe traded it, as I was not involved in the trading arrangements. The people who made clothes brought the thread to me for weaving, and my father had the same situation. It was brought to him by someone else who had made the fibres into thread by spinning it together.”

Numa waved her hand in dismissal. “If it can be traded for, then we will trade for it. Next question: Can you train others to weave?”

“The basics are fairly simple, but repetitive, so yes if the learner is patient. It is when you want to make various patterns in the cloth that matters become complicated. We would need more weaving frames; it takes one frame for each weaver. Brando built my frame, so more can be made.”

“Or he could teach our Maker, Raka, to build these frames.”

Decala simply looked pleased that things were going smoothly and said nothing more. Numa called her closer.

“Decala, you said your name is? John did say that you and your sister were both to be his concubines. If that is so, do you have any objection if he takes you to the furs together?”

“Yes, Chief. We are happy with that agreement, for it is good for both of us. Delica is pregnant, and I hope to be also. We have both been fucked by John, so being together with John will be inevitable at times. It happens with other women, so the idea is not new. My boy could do with a baby brother or sister.”

“Talking about your son, what is his name?”

“Trogo, Chief. He is a good boy, nearly ten summers, so growing up. He was a fine healthy lad until this ailment started in his jaw and made him very ill. I thought I might lose him; my only child. I was fearful.”

“A terrible trial for any mother, Decala. Once you have been with my John for a little while, you will find yourself getting healthier as well as possibly pregnant. He passes on his health magic to those he likes, so you should have no real trouble with a pregnancy and giving birth. There will be many brothers and sisters for your new child, as all John’s children will be equal. Trogo will become his son.”

“Thank you for that, Chief Numa. As his top wife, you must be very proud. Chief Maranga thinks a lot of him, too.”

“Yes, Maranga is a good Chief for her tribe; she knows a lot, and is able to to dispense justice and advice to all.”

There was a sudden flash of light from the horizon, then a few seconds later a crash of sound. Numa was annoyed. “The Earth Mother isn’t happy. We haven’t see that kind of weather for a long time. I hope it doesn’t come this way.”

John commented, “Just a thunderstorm, Numa. Must be the time of year for them. Duke Drago, I think you and your man had best spend the night here under cover, to avoid that downpour if it comes this way.”

Drago ventured a glance at the horizen, which flashed at him in reply, followed by another bang. “I will be pleased to accept, High Chief John. I presume the same will apply to your other visitors that have just arrived?”

“Oh, yes. Brando is the Maker in our other tribe, and I value him and his abilities. He sometimes stays when he visits, but he has three wives at home to tempt him back. That machine that he was riding is his own invention. The addition on the rear is a surprise to me, though. It seems to be a carrier, based on what he managed to use it for.”

“What do you mean, a carrier? I thought a carrier was a person.”