Chapter 9

John settled his wages, with Zithrusa's subtle help, at half a camel's burden for their own transportation of goods (they had allowed the Caravan master to talk them down from a full camel's burden.) 12 skeins of silk thread (they had started asking for 15 of the darker 'purple', and let the Caravan master talk them into the cheaper rose hue.) and food for both John and his Wife. In return, John would provide meat as possible for the entire caravan, and fight independently as a scout or general, not being under any other's orders, when the caravan was attacked. This was actually a good deal for the Caravan master, since John hadn't asked for shares. What he didn't know, was that John was going to carry high value stock with his half camel load.

John would have lots of free time between attacks and while not hunting, to make carvings. They didn't take up much room, and were quite valuable if parceled out sparingly. At the first wooded area they passed through, John, guided by Zithrusa, traded the tired little ass for enough fine cured wood to fill the rest of their half a camel load. Perhaps the man who traded the wood thought they were foolish to let such a nice little ass go for only wood, but value is what people place worth on, and to Zithrusa, she got a treasure of wood. What, you don't think wood just grows on trees, do you? she asked John mischievously. John had to agree, that the little donkey would be well treated, like a valuable resource, and would not have to walk half way around the world.

Zithrusa also had lots of spare time, but it was mostly occupied walking along beside the caravan. At night, and in the evenings when water and forage made camping early a good idea in the mind of the Caravan master, she taught herself how to weave silk on a fine little loom John constructed for her. She undid her first few attempts, and had John double the number of threads in the warp, and provide a lever for cinching the weft, and tried again.

Her goal was to make cloth which would hold water. Ever since she had first laid eyes on John, cloth which would hold water was in her mind the standard of excellence, John tried to tell her that he much preferred the light airy wool layers for the vagaries of temperature produced in these climes, but she was certain that cloth which held water was the richest possible, and perhaps she was right. It might be the most value she could add to the thread, to make with it waterproof cloth. In fact, John could think of several things he could build with waterproof cloth. Amazing, and valuable things. Make a note, he thought to himself- find rubber trees.

John had to re-tie the warp threads, onto a smooth, waxed rod at the top and bottom, and the loops were pushed against each other tightly. The combination of such a tight warp and a levered weft made for the finest silk cloth, which while it got damp when asked to hold water, didn't let water drip through it. A little waterproofing, and it would do for water containers, waterproof clothing or tents, (it was such a trial to pack up the wet felt roof of the nomadic tents) and John thought to himself in fiendish satisfaction, hang gliders, para foils, hot air balloons, air mattresses, and, layered with insulation and sealed with rubber coating, additional survival suits.

Although John was a procurer and not a scout, he ate with them, and doubled on the scouting duties when his 'Spirits' directed him in a certain direction, freeing one of the scouts to cover another area. Sometimes he took Zithrusa with him, that is she insisted on coming along. She often was able to take smaller game that he didn't see in time, adding rabbits and marmosets, geese and pheasants to the larder. If it had been the height of the caravan season, there would be much less provender to acquire.

On one such foray the two were discovered by a scouting party of a local warrior king, or a better organized form of bandit. Thinking that two on foot would be an easy target, the six men dismounted, and the youngest was regulated to holding the reins of their shaggy little ponies. The other five drew their bows, and attempted to make sport of target with John and Zithrusa. The range was great enough that there was time to dodge one or two arrows, but five was making the game crucial. Zithrusa slung, keeping the jesting assassins off their mark, while John played a game of his own.

John targeted the bow strings of the attackers, figuring that for each he cut with his own arrows, it was one less sniper he had to deal with. Three arrows later, and three opposing bows were useless against them. Zithrusa had knocked two senseless with slung stones, but one was one of which John had already cut the string of his bow. The men struggled to get their wounded mounted, as John and Zithrusa strolled nearer.

The last one with a bow, or one of the others who picked up a dropped bow, made to fire, whether in bravado or defense, John neither knew nor cared. John just knew it was time to stop playing around. Three quick shots, and four bodies lay on the sward. Zithrusa also slung a shot at the last man holding the ponies. They walked up, secured the ponies, and made sure of the fallen enemy. Well, Zithrusa did, it was the prerogative of the women in the battle field, to 'give mercy' and take loot.

Six 'horses', two swords, (John would classify them as 'Scimitars') six knives, five bows, 66 arrows, no, 72 by the time they collected the ones fired at them-, a few articles of clothing worth scavenging. Not too bad. Now to find the game, since they had 'horses' to haul it back with.

The two traded the six horses for two somewhat larger Arabian horses, delicate looking yet desert hardy, to some nomads who didn't think the Arabians would last long the hardships of the steppes. Each came out of the barter thinking they had gotten the best of the other, a fine ending to a bargaining session. Now John and Zithrusa could range further on the hunt, and Zithrusa didn't have to get her boots dusty walking along beside the caravan.