ã€ŠElfrikanersã€‹


 Prologue

    Fluttering my mouse over South America, I gaze at the options available to me. Brazil, Argentina? Too easy, can transform into a Great Power too quickly. Uruguay? Seems a little too dull. Paraguay? I hovered over the nation with interest and studied the following statistics. Looking at the population, I saw the massive amount of soldiers.

    Alt-tabbing, I did a quick Google search and did a cursory glance at Paraguay''s history and its upcoming wars. Paraguayan War? Man, that''s brutal as hell. I salivated off the opportunity to cause massive casualties to their enemies. Yet I quickly put an end to such military fantasies as I remembered the stupidity of the AI, rendering my victories nought.

    Crossing the Pacific with a simple mouse drag, I gaze over the numerous nations in Asia. Not another Asia campaign again, I mentally huffed as my gaze lingered over the tiny Bornean republic of Lanfang. Uniting China with that was challenging, but damn, it was fun.

    Dragging to Europe, I sighed and blinked, having that same crystal clear image of the map of Europe in 1836 in my eyes. The United Kingdom was out as they''re number one. A French Empire campaign might be fun, but I don''t feel like playing France. And Prussia to Germany campaign was something I play too often!

    Finally, I dragged to the continent of Africa and looked at the sparse "nations" of the region. Sokoto CALIPHATE? I quickly looked through the details of the nation in the centre of Africa. Alt-tabbing once more and searching through Google, I returned to the game. The strategy was simple, conquer territory to the South until the ocean was reached. Wait for Europeans to show up and westernize and kick them out of Africa. The plan was so simple, so drastically simplistic, that the fervour of playing the nation deflated.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Looking to the South, I could see the red blob surrounding the Cape of Good Hope belonging to the United Kingdom. Looking at the northeast, I set my sights on the Zulu tribe. Ahhh¡­ I have heard of something about them being fierce conquerors. It was powerful, selecting it and comparing its statistics with the surrounding nations, yet it was uncivilized according to the game. Let me repeat once again; the game thinks it''s uncivilized, not me. Transvaal and Oranje republics caught my eye as they were civilized. These republics were far inland and surrounded by African nations. They had few soldiers, and the surrounding African countries could crush them easily.

    My curiosity about the two republics'' origins grew as I checked the nations'' populations. Afrikaners? And they''re a minority within their countries? Biting my lip, I alt-tabbed once more and looked into the information on these two republics. The Dutch, the VOC or Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, The Great Trek, the Battle of Blood River, and all the historical events flooded my eyeballs. I endlessly scrolled through every Wikipedia article. It ended with a crescendo as I read on the topics of the Boer Wars, bookmarking a couple of notable books on the subject of my to-read backlog and finishing up with their incorporation into the Union of South Africa.

    I salivated as I thought of how to rewrite history for my next campaign. In the timeline I planned to forge, it will be the British leaving Africa, and the Afrikaners will unite Africa under a great union.

    Still, I was curious about the origin of apartheid in South Africa, so I began reading up on the subject matter and realized what my ambition meant.

    It''s just a game. I thought to myself, shrugging my shoulders as I looked at the time. It was time to sleep, and I shall enact my plans tomorrow morning.

    Yet somehow, the tomorrow I was greeted with wasn''t the bright sun shining through the window. No, I had entered the strange realm of Elfrica, a high fantasy version of our world''s Victorian age. Where the elves roam in the environment, chasing the human occupiers off. Where the dragons act as glorified volcanoes, armies must manoeuvre around, never into, lest they invite its rage. And finally, where mermaids rule the oceans, subjugating all travellers with a tax.

    This may all sound great, but I''m not someone who met gods or received some gifts. I even have to learn Dutch! Fuck! If I want to be sent to another world, please make me overpowered and let me have a peaceful and relaxing life. But of course not!

    Authors Note: Got bored waiting to play a Boer campaign on Victoria 3, so decided to write some Victorian fantasy. I won''t be able to promise to get historical facts right, but I''ll do the best I can with Wikipedia.

 Chapter 1: Volksraad

    "Welkom by vandag se vergadering"

    A meeting room filled with white men greeted my tired eyes. I rubbed them, blinking and closing. What a strange dream; I''ll play along with it for now.

    As the image sharpened, I noticed that some had tanned skin. As my eyes crawled over every individual in the room, I quickly noticed that the room was filled with whites, making me feel left out. I raised my hands and studied them. My skin was as white as every other man in the room. My head jerked to the side, looking around the room to explore my surroundings.

    In the corner of the room, I could see guns being piled to the corner of the room. I bit my lip and turned back to face the room.

    "Dankie dat jy vir vandag se volksraad in Pietermaritzburg gekom het"

    "Uhh... English?" I spoke up and immediately felt daggers pointed my way. The room quickly fell silent, and everyone sent judging looks at me.

    "Wat maak ''n Engelsman hier?" A man spoke up, and everyone laughed in the room.

    "This is¡­," A person began flipping through papers, finally speaking English for once. "Jan Boddewijk?"

    I waited. Seeing no takers taking up that name, I nodded my head. "Ja?" I replied, thinking that the language they spoke was reminiscent of German.

    "Engllish educated?" The secretary, I presume, asked me with a heavy accent. Not knowing what Engllish is, I fervently nodded.

    "kan iemand langs my sitplek met hom verander?" The secretary barked, and a man beside him got out of his seat. He looked at me and gestured towards his seat. Pointing at myself, he nodded. I got out of my seat and went to the secretary''s side.

    "Danke." I brusquely thanked him.

    The Chairman, I presume, or speaker from before continued droning on in an incomprehensible language as the secretary translated to me.

    "Thank you for coming to our Republic''s first meeting. I appreciate that you all took the time to come here," The speaker gestured to a flag on the wall. And once I took a look at the flag, I immediately gulped.

    "Oh¡­ we are so fucked!" I instantly thought as I looked at the poor imitation of the Netherlands flag. But to confirm what I thought, I decided to ask a probing question.

    "Are we in the Netherlands?" I turned to the secretary, and he furrowed his eyebrows. Yup, he definitely thought I was an idiot.

    "The Natalia Republic, sir?"

    "I was pointing out how the flags are so similar. The colour is the same. Instead of rectangles, triangles are used."

    "I suppose you''re right, sir," The man briefly smiled.

    "I suppose this is rather late, but I should introduce myself. Jan¡­ Bodewojek? Sorry, my Dutch is still rather weak," I stretched out an arm.

    "Joren Hoenderman," He confidently replied, catching my hand and shaking it.

    "So, your father sent you in his place? You''re rather young to be here."

    "I suppose so, Joren. I hope you will treat your Juniors well."

    Very quickly, the meeting turned no different from a rowdy bar as the men discussed matters like taxation and various other affairs. Knowing my place, I kept silent on most affairs, nodding in silent acknowledgement.

    "Haal die tee!" A man bellowed out, and the rest cheered with him. The door to the room opened, and I turned to face a modestly dressed, dark-skinned woman holding a tray of teacups. I thought little of it until they set a cup before me. I captured a glimpse of their pointy ears as they moved on to Joren''s table.

    What the fuck? Is that an elf? I thought to myself silently as I studied the woman''s features. She was in a modest dress with an apron on top of it, with a bonnet, reminiscent of the American Wild West. I glanced at the men around the room, which reminded me of cowboys in a Western film. But if it''s a Western film, why are there elves?

    I tapped on secretary Joren''s shoulder, and he sipped on his tea, savouring the flavour.

    "She''s a slave?" He looked at me like I was a fool again.

    "Jan? Are you sure you''re not English?" Not stopping to let me nod, he continued, "She''s a servant. We aren''t barbarians. These are savage elves whom we civilised by giving them a proper education. Thus, we will show them our ways with hard work."

    Rubbing my forehead, I could feel a migraine coming in.

    "This isn''t a joke, right?" I looked towards Joren''s eyes, and his expression turned to surprise. Weakly smiling, I turned back to face the Chairman and sank into my thoughts.

    It was breaktime, as men got out of their chairs and shuffled out of the room. Seeing Joren leave, I followed behind him. Leaving the room, I was greeted with a typical Western town from a Western film.

    "Not going to take your gun?" Joren quipped, and I looked towards the corner, where a lone gun sat. Grabbing the sling and slinging it over my shoulder, I followed Joren and took the occasional glances around the town.

    Dirt roads. Carriages were scurrying about, with carriage men keeping their guns close. The flag I saw earlier stood proud on many buildings, flapping against the winds. I checked my belt, which had a container filled with ammunition. Ensuring everything was proper, I followed behind Joren. I was lost, and I didn''t know how to proceed.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Hell, I don''t even know whether this is a dream because this is the strangest dream I have ever had. Usually, in my dreams, I am me. But here I am, a white man who uses a muzzle rifle? I checked my gun for any rifling, and it turned out negative. So, I have a smoothbore gun, great.

    From what I could infer from the meeting, I assume it was some parliamentary session, as it discussed various state affairs. So, I was either a parliamentarian or a representative of one. That means I must either be a powerful man or represent some influential people. Secondly, I was likely not a powerful man considering that no "servants" had accosted me when I left the room. I kept my gazes at the other men having their "servants" attending to their every need.

    "Jan!" I felt a pat on my shoulder and saw Joren looking at me.

    "You coming with me?"

    "Ugh¡­ yeah," I followed him as he dragged me towards a saloon.

    Barking off some words in Dutch to the barkeep, he brought some hard biscuits and dried meats. I stared inquisitively at the foo, poking it with a spoon and fork. I tried chipping away at the biscuits, but I only made a small dent after quite some time trying to chip it away.

    "These are Biltong and Rusks. Have them with the beer," Joren explained as he watched the rather curious actions of the foreigner.

    Taking a small sip of the beer, I set the cup down. "Tastes like piss. How much water is added into it."

    "As jy die goeie goed wil h¨º, sal jy ekstra moet betaal!" The barkeep commented, causing Joren to snicker. Not understanding the man''s words, I tried to chip away at the biscuit and managed to chip away a tiny piece. Putting it in my mouth, I mixed it with the beer and wanted to get it down.

    A sudden thought came to my mind, "If this was a dream, how come the inhabitants can speak in a foreign language."

    Then another thought intruded," If this was not a dream, what about the sewage? Don''t tell me I must let it out in a bucket?"

    It ended with, "Why the fuck would anyone want to be a protagonist of a historical novel?"

    Eating was slow, terribly slow. Joren was already striking up a conversation with the barkeep. From the occasional gestures and words like "Engelsman" used, I could already guess they were talking about me. And, of course, they had to use Dutch, which I do not understand.

    "What''s today''s date?"

    "1st January 1840 in the year of our lord."

    "A.D.?"

    "A.D."

    "We have quite many years before the British annexed us; then we''ll pack our bags inland," I mulled in my thoughts, wondering if it''s even possible to centralise the government. How could you get people who are essentially Western cowboys to obey the law? The biggest problem is Port Natal¡­

    After taking an excruciatingly long time to finish my meal, I turned to face Joren. "Could you teach me some basic Dutch?"

    "Dutch? We speak Elfrikaans!"

    I tried my best to surprise my cringe, but it took immense effort not to laugh out loud.

    "So we are in Elfrica?"

    "Yes! Where else would we be? Amsterdam?"

    I began bursting into laughter; oh, what an absurd name. Elfrica.

    "What''s so funny about it?"

    "It sounds¡­ hah, so stupid!"

    "Don''t blame us; blame the Romans, those Elven fetishists," Joren shook his head and sighed.

    Taking some time to laugh, I got it out of my system. "Anyway, could you teach me some Elfri¡­ hmmgghh, heh, Elfrikaans¡­"

    "I could teach you some basic words¡­ but honestly. Your father has no sense to bring you out here if you don''t even know a single word of Elfrikaans. You should have stayed in the Cape Colony."

    I shrugged, "Didn''t have a choice in the matter."

    "Well, I shall start with some simple greetings. Hallo, ek is Joren Hoenderman. Aangename kennis," Joren paused, carefully enunciating his words, "It means, Hi, I''m Joren Hoenderman. Nice to meet you."

    Oren and I took some time to go through some basics. Whilst it won''t bring me any closer to understanding the parliamentary proceedings, I needed to start somewhere.

    "What about parliament?"

    "What is parliament?"

    "The meeting we went just now."

    "Oh, that is Volksraad. People''s Council."

    Reciting those words mentally and verbally, Joren checked and closed his pocket watch.

    "It''s time to go," He left his seat.

    A new individual stood around the room. Many men went up to shake hands with him. I did not recognise him, but he was a big shot. A moustache sat upon his upper lip as a goatie hung onto his chin.

    "Pretorius!" Secretary Joren strolled into the group of men and shook the man''s hand. I sheepishly followed behind him, feeling the gazes of the men parting way.

    "Lekker om jou te sien Joren, hoe gaan alles?"

    "Could you speak English? We have an Englishman within our midst," The room cracked out in laughter at my expense.

    "Pleasure to meet you," I took Joren''s place and stood before the man. Pretorius extended his hand, and I took the opportunity to shake it. His hands were calloused, and his blue irises studied me from head to toe.

    "Pleasure to meet you, Mr Jan?"

    "Jan Boatwojek," I tried to pronounce my supposed name, but it sounded wrong. Still, Pretorius paid my faux pas no mind.

    "So why are you here, Pretorius?" Joren asked.

    "I received news that the British Highlanders left Port Natal last year on 24th December. A couple of Kommandos and I plan on securing the port."

    "Then?"

    "I''m sure everyone in the room has heard of the chaos in Zululand. We''ll be assisting pretender Mpande in crushing the traitorous Queen Dingane."

    "Dien daai teef reg!"

    "Onthou Piet Retief!"

    "Ons wil in vrede lewe, hoekom sal daai elwe ons nie met rus laat nie!"

    Words that were likely swears filled the room. It seems this Queen, whoever she was, was intensely disliked. Zululand? Isn''t that a reference to the Zulus? The last time I remembered, they had a king¡­ Once again, it was like the heavens had fallen from the sky. Not only are they elves, but it seems they are also gender-bent. Fantastic.

    Everyone began taking their seats as the celebrity took a seat by the Chairman.

    "Who is he?" I tapped on Joren''s shoulder and pointed at Pretorius.

    "Are you serious? Jan! He is the founder of our Republic! Battle of Blood River? Do you not know any of that? How can you call yourself a Voortrekker if you don''t even know such things!" Joren seemed to lose his temper somewhat as he slammed into my ignorance.

    The meeting was paused. Everyone turned to face Joren. The meeting proceeded away as Joren failed to provide any additional input

    I decided to leave the man to his thoughts. Still, the meeting was also incomprehensible since it used Elfrikaans. So I looked at my memories and tried to dig up whatever information I''d read during my brief foray on Wikipedia. Unfortunately, I did not remember much, so I could only sigh and pretend to listen to the meeting.

    Joren did not provide any translations this time. So I decided to copy whatever I saw and follow what the rest did. I raised my hands when people raised their hands. I nodded when people turned to face me. A simple nod, a slight downward tilt of my head, before their eyes would turn to meet someone else in the room.

    Unfortunately, it seemed I blended in too well, as the current speaker pointed at my raised hand and took his seat. I stood up and looked around the room. My eyes landed on Pretorius, who raised an eyebrow at my sudden participation.

    "Umm¡­ could you repeat what you said."

    "It looks like the British forgot one more highlander!" And everyone burst out in laughter, making me feel awkward.

    Joren seemed to have calmed down as he stood up and whispered in my ear.

    "He said, did anyone have any further input on securing recognition on the International stage? I''ll translate whatever you say, so do not worry."

    Finally, it looks like I can use my Victorian gamer knowledge.

    "Our enemies are the Africans¡­ I mean Elfricans around us. The numerous Elfricans tribes like the Zulu and the Xhosa. They outnumber us and can easily catch us by surprise if we''re not careful," I paused, letting Joren translate my words. Pretorius sat up a little straighter, interested in my words.

    "The British won''t recognise us as they prefer us under their boot. So that rules them out. The second best option would be Portugal, but that would be untenable as they are under the British Sphere of Influence, so they won''t go against their foreign policy," I paused once again and let the men in the room nod their heads in agreement.

    "Now, most of us are Dutch in origin. However, the Netherlands is not the Great Power it once was. Belgium has broken away from it, taking away much of its industrial capacity. The Dutch are a shell of its once former self," I could see eyes lit up in surprise from such information, which made me wonder why.

    "So that rules them out. The best option, in my opinion, is France. They have some presence in the nearby Sante-Marie. No doubt they have their desires set on Madagascar. If they expand their presence in the region, we''ll have a reliable Great Power on our back. However, some other powers like Russia and Germany would also be good," I paused, and while some still nodded their heads, I could see some were confused.

    "Jan, you know that Russia is a concept by the Muscovites. The Steppes of Eurasia are filled with Centaur Khanates," Pretorius remarked.

    "What is Germany? Do you mean Prussia or Austria?" Joren asked.

    I don''t even know what to comment on Russia.

 Chapter 2: Zulu raid?

    It was a strange dream. That I reaffirmed to myself as I woke up from bed. A multi-day dream was weird. I didn¡¯t know how I felt about the matter, but it seemed I must take it more seriously. First, I must improve my Afrikaans. Apologies, I mean Elf¡­ Elfrikaans.

    The Volksraad always had a few members missing, and I felt I would provide little to no input. So, on this day, I made myself to the public library. It was a small open-air building, and I could smell the scent of rotting books as I walked closer and closer. Few books were brought along, especially when trekking. People only got what they needed, dumping the rest. Any additional weight would make the trip much slower and increase the chance of meeting the elves to skirmish with them.

    I had to avoid the numerous covered wagons strolling into town, speaking in a language I could not comprehend. But considering their appearances, they were fellow Voortrekkers escaping from British oversight.

    One wagon caught my eye. A coloured individual and their family stepped out of the wagon. Even though their skin was darker, with sharper ears that were distinct, they were known as coloured descendants of the settlers who fraternized with the local elves; I don¡¯t blame them. Still, most of them were servants, so seeing the few free-coloured ones was a sight.

    An elderly looking, my apologies lady, spinster, called out in what I assumed greetings. ¡°Aangename kennis,¡± I replied with a smile. I quickly hid under shelves of books and started strolling around the small building. There weren¡¯t many books since few were brought along for the Trek, but as I rounded the corner, I found what I was looking for, Children¡¯s Books!

    Ensuring no one was around, I quickly retrieved a book and tried to read to the best of my ability. I didn¡¯t know how to pronounce words, so I linked the pictures with the terms. It was a story about a sly Jackal and a dumb wolf. For some reason, Jackal decided to bully the wolf, yet the wolf could not see the traps around him and constantly triggered them. It reminded me of the Coyote and Roadrunner animations. It was¡­ mildly entertaining, but my eyes craved to read English instead of this incomprehensible garbage I did not know how to pronounce.

    Nonetheless, I forced myself to read on, reminding myself that I would never be able to communicate with others in this world if I failed to pick up Elfrikaans.

    One book quickly turned into two books. Two books to four. It was not an admirable feat, as they were children¡¯s books; 5 minutes per book should be the expected baseline. But I made sure to read every word, etching it into my mind before looking at the picture to carve it into my eyes before flipping to the next page.

    Occasionally, some children and their parents scampered into this library section. Initially, I was embarrassed. A grown man was reading children¡¯s books. I glanced at the children¡¯s faces, brimming with curiosity to see an individual unlike them standing around the place. I did not bother to look at their parents. I did not even want to know what their expressions were.

    The time they spent around me section was short. A short glance at one or two books, and they left. It felt like a new group would every so often, so I decided to sneak off to another section filled with thicker books. Unfortunately, the books intimidated me with their girth. My little pamphlet-like book compared with the Encyclopaedic-looking book on the shelf? Let¡¯s not even mention the cute cover art.

    However, that had its fair share of problems. Sometimes, some adults would wander in. And I could help myself but feel embarrassed too. I made sure to turn around, showing my back to them. My back had a muzzleloader firearm that shook to the side as I spun around. Even though I knew they could not see what I was reading with a 100% guarantee, I could not help but feel self-conscious about myself.

    ¡®Perhaps I should just abandon this place and scamper back to Cape Colony?¡¯ I thought, but I quickly dismissed that thought. As someone who had lived in a city his whole life, staying in a rural area was uncomfortable. If I remember correctly, Cape Town, one of the capitals of South Africa in the modern day, would likely be suitable. Yet even if Cape Colony would provide me much comfort, especially with my command of English, I doubt I would not be able to uproot myself so easily.

    First off was the issue with myself. Who am I, exactly? That was not a question I could go around asking people. It¡¯s not about whether they know me. It¡¯s my status in this republic. I assume I¡¯m only a mere representative of a parliamentarian in the Volksraad. Who is that parliamentarian? That is a question I also cannot ask, which will give away who I am. I don¡¯t even know a name, so I don¡¯t exactly know how to begin.

    Still, it is the time of the wild west. I could trek. I could uproot myself and head to the interior, especially in Zoutpansberg or the Orange Free State. If I remember correctly, there were gold and diamonds. I could become rich or die trying. I would likely have chosen this ambitious option if I hadn¡¯t forgotten that this world was a fantasy world, where I wasn¡¯t fighting spears with guns but probably magic with firearms. How do you even beat magic? So many questions, yet I don¡¯t even know where to start.

    Bored with reading, I headed to the tavern Joren had brought me previously to have lunch. I then remembered I didn¡¯t have any money on me. Looks like I¡¯ll have to mooch off Joren once again. I headed to the Volksraad, looking left and right for the passing wagons. Old world habit of mine.

    The meeting seemed to end, and people left the hall. I was trying to identify Joren out of the group of men and their entourage of elves and snuck close to him, following him until he reached the same tavern. As he took a seat by the bar, I joined him by the side. He turned to face me, the newcomer, with a bored look. His eyebrows raised as he identified me.

    ¡°Jan? Where were you? You missed the session,¡± Joren spoke, with a hint of annoyance in his tone. Of course, as secretary, he would keep track of everyone coming and going.

    ¡°I had to¡­ attend to other affairs,¡± I replied.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°We all do, I suppose. Will you be joining me in the afternoon?¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    ¡°Piet, get this man what I got,¡± Joren placed some coins on the table. I took one, possibly a rude gesture, and inspected it out of curiosity. One side of the coin depicted a man who gazed firmly to the right.

    ¡®Britianna Rex¡¯ was what one side of the coin read. I quickly returned the coin to the bar and let the barkeep take the change.

    ¡°Pound Sterling?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have our currency?¡±

    I nodded, understanding. Even if we did create our currency, who would accept it? Gold? How do you expect people who are essentially nomads to have large sums of gold in a vault? It¡¯s similar to countries with little reserves like Timor Leste, which had to use the expensive US Dollar as its national currency.

    ¡®Hah. Makes sense why we are about to be annexed in a few years if we are this economically dependent on the UK,¡¯ I thought.

    ¡°That reminds me. Jan, remember yesterday¡¯s proposal?¡± Joren did not even wait for my response and continued,¡± Pretorius is planning to put together a delegation to France. You interested?¡±

    I shook my head and said, ¡°My Elfrikaans are so poor, I would be a poor representative.¡±

    ¡°Well, if you change your mind, do let me know. I¡¯ll inform Pretorius. There is little political will from the Executive branch to put together one. It will be a few months before we can expect one.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Jan, touch your heart and be honest with yourself. We are Voortrekkers. We wish to be free men. So, we do whatever we want. Few would enforce the law; that is why we take the law into our own hands,¡± Joren tapped on the firearm strapped against his shoulder.

    The same food arrived, and I had to swallow the grub painfully. Joren somehow peacefully consumed his meal.

    A rumbling of footsteps could be heard outside the saloon.

    Thump, thump.

    The floorboards creaked as a man stepped up and hollered,¡± Zoeloe-aanval! Hulle het almal doodgemaak voordat hulle met hul beeste vertrek het!¡±

    The man constantly screamed, repeating the words with so much vigour.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked, looking toward the disturbed individual.

    ¡°A Zulu raid happened. He¡¯s gathering some men to retrieve some cattle back. You in?¡± He got out of his seat and slung out his gun.

    ¡°Ek is ge?nteresseerd!¡± He answered and strolled towards the small posse being created. An astounding amount of people are joining the group.

    ¡®Usually, I would expect no one to participate. But why is almost everyone joining? It¡¯s just some cattle, and there are no rewards,¡± I frowned while thinking.

    Still, I touched my gun. I never owned one. While I did have one while in Basic Military Training, it was not strictly mine, it¡¯s military property. Here I have a gun, and I¡¯m interested in its power.

    ¡°Elk is hejereseered!¡± I answered, causing spontaneous looks of curiosity sent my way as I approached the group.

    I hung behind Joren as they gathered a group of around 20 men.

    ¡°What about the Volksraad?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Oh, that¡­ eh, they won¡¯t be discussing things that are too important today. Someone else would take my place.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re gonna walk there or something?¡±

    ¡°Gonna? Wat is dit? No, of course not. I have some horses I could lend out. I want the highest share of the prize,¡± Joren replied before heading to the group¡¯s centre to lay down the same terms he offered.

    ¡®Prize? Are cattle that valuable?¡¯

    Some elven servants brought over some horses at Joren¡¯s command. I paused at the horse led by a servant to me. The dead eyes in the servant and his malnourished body made my eyes scurry away from his body, as well as banishing the thought of even conversing with him from my head.

    I looked at the horse, and the horse looked at me. It neighed. I looked at the stir-ups around the horse saddle and likened it to a bicycle pedal. Like getting on a bicycle, I place my feet on the stirrup and push myself up. Taking time to struggle to slot my feet into the other stirrup, I heaved a sigh of relief as I grabbed onto the reins.

    As I looked around me, I could see that everyone was done, and they were looking at me with annoyance.

    ¡°Kom ons gaan!¡± A rider yelled and rode off, kicking dirt in the air. The rest of the riders took off, and I was left with this horse, fidgeting with the reins, unsure how to make it move. I shook the reins, and it moved a few steps. I put more strength into it, and the horse started a short trot.

    ¡°Never rode a horse before?¡± Joren rode back to ask as he watched me pathetically struggle, ¡°How lucky to have such an esteemed young master among us!¡±

    I usually feel angry at such a remark, but it is not wrong. I suppose to a Voortrekker, a modern man is like a spoiled child, so why the hell was I doing at the frontiers?

    ¡°So, how do I get in moving?¡±

    Joren guided me for about 5 minutes, and I got the horse to gallop away, following the other riders. I held onto the reins for my dear life and stuck my boots firmly into the stirrups.

    ¡°Fuck, how do I get it to stop!¡± I yelled at the man, who laughed as he rode behind him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you when we reach there.¡±

    Rolling grasslands greeted me as we left civilization. We went to the usual array of farmhouses and ranches that dotted the city exterior and rode far into the frontier. This is where men struck out to seek their fortune. And if they succeed, they don¡¯t have to pay taxes, for a time at least. Until civilization is established, yet, until then, that is their reward for taming the untamed lands.

    Lone trees stand tall amongst the grass. Sometimes they stuck together like a miniature forest. Other times they grew up alone. Perhaps they are not all too different from us Voortrekkers, even if we¡¯re human.

    Eventually, all the signs of human civilization ran out after a few hundred miles. Joren explained,¡± Be careful. We are heading into Zululand!¡±

    ¡°Zululand?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s filled with uncivilized elven savages. Watch out for abnormal growths on the grounds,¡± Joren pointed at the ground and hugged his gun.

    I, for my life, could not see many unnatural growths, but it seemed everyone kept their guard up. I tugged on my firearm and unslung it from my back. Wielding it, I clenched onto it and inspected it.

    There was a stick attached to the bottom. It was likely the ramrod used to push the round into the barrel. Grasping for the paper ammunition, I looked around me. Others were sinking their teeth into the packaging, tearing out on end, revealing black powder beneath. They carefully emptied into the barrel.

    I bit into the paper and tore off a large chunk, causing a non-minute amount of powder to spill out. Cursing, I hoped that what I had left was still enough. The package had a ball left. Looking at my companions, they left the ball on their guns but reached for the stick attached to their weapons. I grabbed the rod and began ramming it down the barrel. The round was pushed to the other end of the barrel. I pulled out the stick and slid it back into the gun container. The men did something with the back of the gun, flicking levers and whatnot, pouring the rest of the powder down. I haphazardly followed.

    ¡°Zoeloe-party met 50 beeskoppe aan die Ooste!¡± The rider in front announced, and the men began riding parallel to that party, steering their horses.

    ¡°Ons sal hulle op die heuwel lok!¡± Joren pointed at a nearby hill, and the men nodded.

    We stopped by the foot of the hill to prevent the horses from kicking up too much dirt. Getting off our rides, we kept our rifles by our sides and ascended them. The individual in front hid behind some shrubbery, causing the rest to follow along.

    I looked at the elven party in question. A bunch of dark elves were herding the cattle. They gently whispered to the cattle, causing the cattle to follow them obediently.

    ¡°Fok! Ek wens my beeste wil so gehoorsaam wees,¡± A man remarked, but hushing from the rest of them shut them up.

    Aiming their rifles, the leader of the posse. The rancher who gathered the group together bellowed, ¡°Vuur! En skiet dan op eie wil!¡± The cacophony of gunfire joined the clouds of smoke rising in the sky.

 Chapter 3: Church

    Hugging the musket, I looked down the barrel and kept my finger at the trigger. I laid on the ground, watching the elves herding cattle. Masculine Dark Elves wrapped in the skin of animals like cheetahs prowled forth.

    I paused. Firing onto another humanoid that was oblivious to our presence felt wrong. Perhaps it was due to the influence that city living had on me, I was a complete pacifist.

    Still, when the shots rang out, the eleven heads swivelled and faced us. They spoke to the cattle, and the herd of cows quicken their footsteps.

    "Help me!" A man yelled as a vine wrapped around his foot and hoisted him up. As the vine pinned him to the tree, more vines began wrapping around his neck, slowly suffocating him.

    "Lemand het hom afgekap!" A shout caused two men to whip knives out to cut him down.

    They were not ordinary traps, they seem sentient. These vines are not some rope, it was as the forest was actively fighting against our presence. My eyes were mesmerized by the vines strangling the man. His struggles only caused the vines to wrap even further around his neck. As he thrashed uselessly in the air, the vines kept slamming him against the tree. The two men trying to save him were hacking down the vines that threatened to wrap around them, and could do little to help their fellow comrade from meeting their maker.

    "Skiet hulle neer!" Shots quickly rang out, as certain tense atmosphere fell on the men. Men were firing shots in rapid succession, trying their best to gun down all the elves. As the elves fell, I could only watch, tightening my grip against the trigger. As I turned to face that struggling man, I could see a lifeless corpse twitching on its death throes. The man''s supposed rescuers gave up on their meaningless endeavours and focused on firing more shots to take down the elves.

    The elves never bothered to close the gap. Their spears could never reach us. But every metre they fled just caused more men to fall. Eventually it turned into a full-scale route, as the pointy-ears fled for their lives. They abandoned the cattle, who were scattering amidst the sound of gunfire. When they fled at a distance where they were like dots in my eyes, a thump could be heard from behind. I saw a corpse, laying peacefully on the ground.

    Men were huffing, as adrenaline weaned its way out of their blood. Their eyes struck with bloodlust glittered as they looked towards their prizes. The men ran forward, running down the hill to what I assume were their cattles. But they ignored that and ran straight to the fallen elves. Men grabbed the arms and legs of those that were still breathing and claimed them.

    Joren walked down and joined the group, observing the captives who were barely breathing, moaning from their wounds. He would shake his head to some, and the man would grin. To those who he nodded his heads too, the man would grunt and leave the captive behind, and claim a different one instead.

    As that feeling that caused me from firing a single shot disappeared, I was relieved that the men around me did not notice. But it seems my acquaintance noticed as he asked, "Jan? First time in a fight?"

    My shaking legs quickly betrayed my real feelings. "What was that?" I asked, and Joren followed my gaze to the where the dead man laid.

    "They are traps that they have previously laid. They must have expected our presence, but it seems they planned to scare us off, considering¡­"

    I replayed the cries of help from the man in my head once more. It messed me up. It''s one thing if it''s a video game, but it felt real. Fuck, this is really the strangest dream I ever had.

    "Ahh, Jan, could you help me retrieve that elf," Joren pointed at a dark elf that was struggling to get up. It was sitting up, clutching its right arm with a bloodied hand. It stared at Joren with a ferocious gaze.

    I shivered. My mind were already playing out scenarios in my head. Like how this herculean looking creature could easily tear me in half, right at the centre. I looked towards my acquaintance in this group of strangers, and his eyes urged me to get going with it. Taking a deep breath, I took large strides at first, before slowing to a mere trot as I was 5 metres of the elf.

    "Wesabani," The dark elf growled.

    As I closed the gap, the dark elf changed his gaze to me. My wobbling legs stopped as he looked at me. His gaze softened a little, but it still held quite an edge.

    "Do not worry, Jan. He''s too weak to harm you. Help him up, and walk him over to me," Joren hollered. My hands made their way to his unwounded left side, and I helped him up, ensuring that he leaned his body weight against me. He was silent, and he spoke little as we trotted to Joren, who held a cold gaze towards the dark elf. I bit my lip upon seeing the gaze. He inspected the elf from head to toe. His lips curled up as he looked towards its arms, but frowned when his lingered over his injured right arm.

    As we stood before Joren, he stepped forward and grabbed the elves'' chin. He lifted his face up and stared into his eyes. A staring contest took place between the two, but the dark elf just spat at Joren, causing him walk off swearing.

    He returned and slapped the elf. I watched, unsure of what to do. The two continued staring.

    "Put him down," Joren instructed and I helped him down to the ground with the rest of the captives were huddled at.

    "Any that catches your eye?" Joren gestured at the numerous elves that sat. They all glared at him.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    "So, what''s going to happen to them?" In my heart, I knew the answer. But I wanted to hear it out loud from the man himself.

    "I''m thinking what the best roles for them would be. For example, that one with a lean body," He gestured at a relatively scrawny male elf, before continuing," He would work best in a mine. Accidents happen. And someone nimble like him can live long. Value for money." The ''miner'' elf covered the wound on his chest, baring his teeth.

    "That one over there," he pointed at the one which I brought in before continuing," He would work best in a plantation. It would be a waste if he was put on something like yam or maize. A cash crop would be a good use of his abilities."

    "And this one," Joren pointed at an androgynous looking elf," Perhaps he would make a good house servant. Shouldn''t be too hard to tame unlike the others." The elf in question only shivered and looked towards the ground, not daring to look Joren in the eye.

    "Slavery?" I uttered out the dreaded word.

    "No, no. We are not savages. Servants. We will teach them the ways of civilized men through hard work. Their new owners will decide whether they are civilized enough to consort with men like us," Joren paused, and let the gazes of the men around me to look at me.

    I do not even know how to reply to that. But I should throw my modern-day sensibilities away, because it was pointless. These men did not care for morality, they only cared about the profits that their servants generated. Plus, this was basically wilderness, I could be left for dead if I said the wrong thing.

    "I¡­ understand," I brusquely replied, and the man continued chattering in what I supposed was Elfrikaans with the other men.

    "Still, Jan, you were a brave man to come out here with us, considering that you have no combat experience. I want to give you a little gift. Any that catches your eye?" My gazes scanned the elves. I did not want to look any longer. Men were tying their hands and legs together, ensuring they did not even had a chance to fight back.

    ''Would it be rude to reject him?'' I thought to myself and turned to look at the expectant eyes of the other men.

    Another group on horseback were herding back some heads of cattle and I pointed towards the cattle.

    "I would not mind some heads of cattle, send them to my family''s farm?" I unconfidently said.

    "Your family must have too many servants. Very well, I will direct some cattle to the Boddewijk estate," Joren then barked off some orders to the men on horseback, who nodded their heads in response.

    "Dit is my bees!" A man screamed. Everyone turned to face him. It was the one who gathered this posse together to retrieve his cattle. It was understandable why he would be frustrated. Joren pointed towards the Elven captives, and the man shut up and grinned.

    "Baie Dankie!" The man laughed and jumped with mirth in his step.

    The trip back to the capital Pietermaritzburg was a joyous one between the men, who celebrated the new arrivals. I was silent as we trotted home. Joren was guiding me with simple horse-riding, and I engaged with him for a little. But he sensed that I wished to be alone, so he left me be in my thoughts. I looked toward the captives, who were all gloomy.

    "Don''t give them too much sympathy," Joren spoke up, as he observed my gaze. He continued," They conduct raids from time to time. They steal our cattle which we need to make ends meet. They kill everyone in the ranch. They have such vast amounts of land and yet they are unwilling to share. I urge you to not even trust a single word that come from their mouths. Because the last time that happened, their queen had every man, woman, child killed." It seems he said his piece, and finally left me be in my thoughts. Yet my eyes still lingered on them. What if I was in their place? How would I feel? That sympathy made me sympathetic, but Joren''s words clouded that sympathy, and casted a dark cloud over my eyes.

    My eyes gained a new gaze. One of hatred as I imagined the scenes that Joren spoke off. I was somewhat familiar with the events with my hazy memory from Wikipedia. In my world, Zulu King Dingane brokered a deal of some kind with some Boers who were looking to obtain some territory for farmland. All they had to do was to retrieve some cattle stolen from another chieftain. They did so, and when they got back, Dingane had everyone killed.

    Still, as I distanced myself from these events. I resolved myself to end the practice of slavery in all of its various forms in the Natalia Republic. The British will soon strike, and we will not be strong enough to resist them. Only if we work with these natives, then the Republic can live on.

    I received a letter at my supposed lodgings. I just asked all the hotels in town if I had a reservation with them. One of them said yes, and I treated it as my new home. A letter arrived as I found some parchment slipped under the door. Grabbing it, I turned to greet my eyes with English written with a cursive handwriting.

    Sitting down on the bed I read it.

    Jan,

    I hope things at Pietermaritzburg were fine for you. Volksraad proceedings weren''t too boorish for you hopefully. I asked a friend of mine to help you around. His son would be attending the Volksraad in his stead. His name is Joren Hoenderman and he knows both Elfrikaans and English. Joren will be the secretary for the Volksraad, so if you have any queries, he will welcome any of them. Come home after Volksraad proceedings are completed, no sooner or later. There will be a carriage in front of this establishment on the final day, take it and it will bring you home.

    PS. I hope you and Joren would get along.

    Yours sincerely,

    Johan Boddewijk

    Considering the name ''Johan'', as well as the similar surname, I am assuming he''s my father. No not my biological father, but Jan Boddewijk''s father. My thoughts swirled. The same question that I have been dealing ever since I have been having this dream surfaced.

    "Is this really a dream?"

    "Or have I entered the body of someone else?"

    I gulped. The dream is way too detailed, that I cannot posit it is a dream. Is it a simulation? If it''s a simulation, there will be some hints indicating the creator''s thoughts. So far, I do not see any such interferences in this world, nor do I see pixels on objects.

    If this a dream, then I should sigh in relief. I can go back to the modern world. I could enjoy the modern amenities instead of this backward hellhole. Did I mention I always hated camping?

    If I possessed another man''s body, then how do I switch back? Logically, there''s no way to switch back. But logically, someone must have done it. So who should I seek guidance in? God?

    "Of course¡­" I mumbled. I hurried to the nearby church. It was a white small building, unlike the grandiose churches I see in the old world. It could probably host around 50<sup>th</sup> people at most on the first floor.

    There was no one here at this time at day, except for the devout few who sat on the numerous chairs, clasping their hands in prayer. I looked at the statue of the God that they are praying to, and smirked, seeing a remnant of the old world. Considering this world is magical, perhaps prayers might get me somewhere. I took my seat around the first rows, where I saw people who a necklace of a cross around their neck sat. I joined them and wrapped my clasped my hands in prayer.

    ''Hello, anyone out there?'' I thought, imagining a phone call, expecting no one to reply. And as expected, no one replied.

    ''God? Any guidance? Mind sending me back to my world?''

    ''The call is not responding. Please try again later, thank you. The call is not responding. Please try again later, thank you.'' I think I heard this thoughts entered my head, but it was to tell whether I imagined them, or if someone really replied.

    ''Hello, this is call centre Angel Joshua. How can I help you?'' Someone telekinetically spoke to me to my head. The words were too comprehensible, that it did not remind me of imagination.

    ''Is this for real? Or are my mind playing tricks with me?''

    ''I can assure you that this is very real sir. First time user? Press 1 if this is your first time. Press 2 if this is not your first time.''

    ''1.''

    ''Thank you very much sir. Do remember to leave some feedback so our other angels could help your fellow men. So how can I help you?''

    ''I''m not from this world. I don''t if this a dream or such, but I can I go back to my original world?''

    ''Symptoms of Psychosis. I see. Sir, have you recently been feeling stressed recently? Do you hear any voices other than me of course? Or do you hallucinate from time to time?''

    I don''t even know how to reply. Why is an angel becoming my psychiatrist?

 Chapter 4: Cultivator

    ''Oi! I''m being serious here! Or this is some joke?''

    ''No, sir! Of course, this isn''t a joke. As long as you pray¡­ let me check¡­.'' The sound of paper being crinkled can be heard on the line. The Angel continued, ''As long as you pray 90 days, in the morning, afternoon and night, you will be cured.''

    ''Since you''re so almighty and powerful, why do I need to pray? Why can''t you resolve it now?''

    ''My superiors would not like it. They believe in equal exchange. If we do everything for you, you will sit at home all day and beg God to do things for you.''

    ''Anyway, send me home! I''m not from this world. If this is a dream, wake me up!''

    ''I can assure you, sir, as long as you pray every day for 90 days, things will be quickly resolved. Now, sir, I do not have much time left. If you have any feedback, please leave it to our staff, who are most willing to help you. Thank you,'' Some calm, peaceful music where a choir was singing in the background started playing.

    ''Oi! I''m very dissatisfied with your service. I want to look for your manager!'' I opened my eyes and found the room around me to be unchanged. The people were different; some must have finished their prayers and left. I saw the faces of newcomers, yet I could find no one I recognised. Storming off, I muttered off swear after swear at the crappy service delivered. I swear the service is worse than banking hotlines, at least banking hotlines resolve things for you.

    As I trotted around town, looking for things to sate my fury on. I found a couple of dark elves with familiar faces leaving a building. It seemed to be an infirmary of some sort, as all the elves had bandages wrapped around their wounds. They were escorted into a carriage with their hands and feet bound. Walking to the building''s side, the men around it looked at me and grunted.

    Walking into the infirmary, I could hear the sounds of an authoritative figure.

    "This is going to hurt. The nurse put a rag in his mouth," Muffled screams were soon heard afterwards. Curiosity got the better of me, and I sneaked a peak and found a bloodied metal round in the doctor''s hands.

    "It will all be over soon," The doctor poured some liquid into the open wound on the elf''s chest and began sewing it up. His assistant, a relatively strong woman, was holding the elf down. The elf thrashed and struggled against the woman, who had her own against the muscular elf.

    "Bandage the wound, and send in the next patient," The doctor scribbled some notes on some parchment before turning to look at the newcomer. The doctor frowned before returning to his notes. I stood around, awkwardly gazing at the room around me.

    Multiple beds could be seen. Male elves are laid on the beds, all with familiar faces reminding me of the results of my previous excursion. They were all bound to their beds with clean fabrics.

    "Hoe kan ek jou vandag help meneer?" The doctor spoke in Elfrikaans.

    "English? I heard you were using English just now."

    "Ahh¡­" The doctor stopped his scribbles and turned to face me.

    "What''s your story, trekking out here?" The doctor asked.

    "What''s yours?" I countered, not wanting to diverge too much. I don''t know much about Jan Boddewijk''s background, so I tried not to trap myself with a particular false background.

    "I got nothing much to say. I make too many mistakes, and I can''t go back."

    I nodded. Only a few men would trek so far away from civilisation. Rebels or outlaws or the unwilling. Being a Voortrekker meant I was part of the first group, and the doctor was a mix of the latter.

    "Jan Boddewijk, I hope not to see you again soon."

    "Heh. Lionel Marshall, likewise."

    With nothing much to say to one another, we bid each other quick goodbyes. And I headed to the library to catch up on my Elfrikaans. To practice, I spent some time conversing with the librarian. Considering I''ll probably be a frequent visitor here, might as well befriend the librarian. While they did laugh at my atrocious accent, they did help correct some of my incorrect pronunciations.

    I tried moving away from picture books but felt intimidated by the lack of diagrams in the other books, so I returned to picture books. When others walked into my aisle, I bravely stood there, not caring what the other party was thinking, reading the picture book. The tactic was great because whoever came in quickly left after 5 seconds.

    A bunch of papers were being handed around the table. Of course, as usual, they were in Elfrikaans. I was intimidated by the lack of pictures, so after the papers from back to front, I slowly read them and tried to guess what they meant based on the other words.

    Considering the numbers dotted around the parchment and words of commodities such as ''wood'', ''meat'' and ''fish'', I could quickly guess that it was some economic report.

    "The return of Port Natal means that we are not landlocked anymore. We can now export our goods to passing Portuguese and British traders circumnavigating the Cape to head to Asia," Joren helped translate the speaker''s words.

    "We should decide how to allocate our budget for the year. We have little gold reserves, most of them raided by the Zulus. Estimates in the presented document account for the additional limited funds taxation would bring. Suffice it to say there is little we can do. At best, we can only prioritise a certain industry while the rest will have to continue with the little funds we have," The speaker paused, letting his words sink into the room.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The room broke into discussions, and everyone spoke in incomprehensible Elfrikaans. How many times must I have complained about that? Still nevertheless, I instead wish that everyone spoke English, but that would be an unreasonable demand after all. So, I stuck by Joren and let the man do the talking; he gave little details, only hearing a summary. I can tell that based on the number of words coming out of his mouth being directed to fellow Elfrikaans speaker while he spoke brusquely to me.

    Everyone was divided on what should be prioritised. Some said construction to help build new homes for the incoming migrants. Others say they should focus on building Port Natal, while others argue that development should be spread evenly between them. They were even relatively inane opinions, such as bribing the Elves to leave us the hell alone. They were deeply opinionated for some peculiar reason.

    "What do you think?" Joren asked after going from group to group, making introductions for both of us. I used basic Elfrikaans greetings, which seemed to warm relations between me and most others in the Volksraad.

    "Isn''t it obvious we should focus on the arms industry? Guns, artillery. We need as many as we can get," I replied.

    "Most of us have firearms. Who will the sellers sell them to if we glut the market with them? For cheap? Or to the Elves? Plus, all of these need raw materials. Might as well focus on the procurement of raw materials."

    "Can''t we trade for them with merchant ships?"

    "Most ships heading to Asia aren''t carrying raw materials like wood or iron. Asia is abundant with them. They are carrying finished products like arms. That''s why I''m thinking of improving raw materials production."

    "How about roads? Improving the infrastructure would indirectly help bring goods to market. Plus, we''ll be able to react quickly to African¡­ I mean Elfrican raids."

    Joren paused and pondered and nodded. "It''s not a bad idea." The Secretary wandered off and discussed with other fellow members of the Volksraad, leaving me to stand at the corner. I joined the other groups by just standing nearby to avoid being so left out.

    A budget was drafted out, and funds were allocated to various fields. Some of the funds were put into infrastructure, and the Volksraad meeting of the day concluded.

    "So what now?" I asked.

    "It will be handed over to the Executive branch. They will execute things¡­ hopefully," Joren rubbed his forehead. I knew better than to ask any further. He continued," That reminds me. I heard that you''re interested in ramping up our arms production. Shall I introduce you to local arms manufacturers? Don''t worry. I know someone that can speak English."

    I nodded.

    An ordinary building. It looked like a general store. But as soon as I opened the door, a man sat on the floor, meditating. He was dressed similarly. Bowler hat snugged onto the head, paired with a dress shirt covering his muscular chest. Creased wool trousers were on the floor with a leather boot on end. The man closed his eyes and crossed his legs, placing his hands beside him.

    Feeling our presence, the man opened an eye.

    "Greetings, customers. Welcome to Smith''s Gun Store Sect, or SGSS Sect."

    I took a few steps back and rubbed my ears.

    "Could you say that again?"

    The man rolled his eyes and prepared once more," Welcome to Smith''s Gun Store Sect."

    "Are you a cultivator?"

    "Of course, I''m trying to break through to the next realm with my qigong. I cooked some pills last night, and they will hopefully increase my power level."

    I ran behind Joren, who seemed amused at my fear.

    "Why so scared?" Joren whispered.

    "Oi, that man can break my neck if he gets pissed off or I disrespect him."

    "Oh¡­ all cultivators are non-violent."

    "That is correct. All cultivators will die a painful death as long as they lift a finger on someone else. We preach the virtue of non-violence." The cultivator shot up from the floor in a flash. The next thing I knew, the cultivator appeared behind me.

    "How can I help you, Mr Hoenderman?"

    The contrast between the image of a wise Chinese cultivator and a Western cowboy''s accent was so stupid that I struggled to hold in my laughter.

    "I heard you broke into the Rifling realm? You''re already going to try to break into the Breech realm?" Joren asked.

    "Indeed, sir. Even if I add grooves to the musket''s barrel, it is difficult to clean, so it''s impractical. I must enter the Breech-loaded rifle realm before I can truly use the Rifling realm." The man teleported, coming back with a rifle in his hand. He showed the barrel to Joren, who looked into it before passing it to me.

    "It is difficult to see, so let me use my Qi." He shot some kind of ball of light into the barrel and allowed me to inspect the grooves in the barrel. He continued, "Imagine when firing the rifle, where would the powder end up." The light ball, or what was probably visible Qi, circled the rifle''s grooves, lighting it up.

    Without even stopping to give me a chance to answer, he said," They would be trapped here. And you''ll need to be extra-thorough in your cleaning. Also, when ramming down the barrel, the round might be trapped and reloading speed will decrease. That is why Breech-loaded rifles are necessary."

    "What are breech-loaded rifles?" I asked.

    "The simple answer is instead of putting the round inside of the gun from the front. You put it in the back. Then you don''t have to spend time ramming the ammunition down the barrel. And just pull the trigger and fire the gun." The cultivator gestured with his hands in mere imitation.

    "Do you need any help?"

    "A cultivator like me does not need help from a human. I must not trouble normal humans with such affairs." The cultivator went off into the corner of the store and began meditating in the corner. Joren took a few steps forward and inspected the merchandise. There were guns, and most of the store was filled with simple muskets, but I saw some rifled muskets.

    I went to another section and found all sorts of ammunition. There were regular balls of metal, then there were the paper cartridges, and finally, a big pile of black powder. Nothing was exciting to see, so I wandered off to the back, where I heard the sound of metal smacking metal. A tiny dark elf stood there and got into a fighting stance. But realising that cultivators are non-violent, the elf released itself from the stance.

    "Apprentice Shawn!" The elven kid yelled his name and stretched his arms, blocking me from entering the door completely.

    "This is the workshop. Non-members of the Smith''s Gun Store Sect are not allowed entry into the workshop!" All eyes were directed at me, but the cultivator did not even move an inch from the kid''s shout.

    "What an energetic little elf? Where do you get him?" Joren asked, studying the elf. The cultivator kept quiet.

    "Master Smith saw me at the marketplace and thought I had great potential. So, he bought me!" The elf declared, and I took a few steps back.

    "Shawn?" An elderly man came from the workshop as the sound of metal ceased. He was a thin, scrawny fellow, and his beard touched the floor due to its sheer length.

    The elderly man stopped and looked at my acquaintance. "Ahh¡­ Joren. Thanks for introducing me to Shawn. He''s a hard-working apprentice."

    "I don''t remember this kid. It must be one of my associates, Master Smith." Joren slightly bowed and smiled. "I''m only here because I wanted to show a friend of mine around the local gun stores of Pietermaritzburg."

    Master Smith narrowed his eyes on me, observing me from head to toe. "Your friend does not look like a soldier. I wonder why he needs a rifle?" The old man scrunched up his nose at my physique.

    "We''re all Trekkers, Master Smith. We all need guns for what is out there waiting for us."

    "I see." Master Smith turned around and returned to his workshop, and the metal hitting metal echoed around the store once again. The little elf glared at me before entering the workshop once more.

    We took some time to walk around the store before being bored and left the store.

    "So, are all gun smiths cultivators?" I asked as we left the store.

    "Every artisan is a cultivator. There are many sects. There is one for the arts, one for music and many more. But not every art needs a cultivator practitioner. That means not every gunsmith needs to be a cultivator, but there will be cultivators in most fields. And they make great products."

    "How does it work?"

    "Cultivators don''t need much. They just need to eat and special materials for cultivation. The best materials are in Asia, which is why Asian cultivators are superior to European ones. They are only also extremely efficient in their field of work. For example, if 1 tonne of iron is needed in the production cycle. The cultivator would need 0.5 tonnes of steel, as their use of Qi alleviates most of the wastage in the production cycle as they make precise cuts. That is why most cultivators work in fields where precise labour is needed. Machine tools are a good example."

    "Can I become a cultivator?"

    "Only if you wish never to fire a gun on another sentient creature."

    "That sounds stupid."

    "It is."

 Chapter 5: Homefront

    ''tschk¡­ hello¡­ tschk!'' Static sounds blared into my mind, shaking me from my sleep.

    ''Tschk¡­ go¡­ tschk¡­ church!''

    ''Annoying,'' I thought as I quickly got dressed and headed to the Church.

    ''Hello! Hello, ahh, finally, the signal strength is good! Hello, Jan. This is Director Archangel Michael. I have received your complaint forwarded by my subordinate and wish to address your concerns. To confirm, could you please repeat your complaints?''

    ''I am not from this world. This continent should be known as Africa, not Elfrica.''

    ''Hmm¡­ I see. Well, I have a message for you. No, I will not complain about the lack of prayers conducted after leaving the Church. It is a message left by other gods.''

    ''This world does not have a monolithic god. Shocker,'' I thought.

    ''Save the Republic.'' And the connection was immediately cut off, leaving me in this silent Church.

    I did not have a good sleep that night.

    In my writings, I distanced myself from the persona Jan Boddewijk for a reason. I am not Jan, nor is he me. If I could use my Old-World name, I would, but I have forgotten what it was. I, for the life of me, cannot remember any details referring to the identity of my Old-World self, but I could place myself being an avid gamer. So, I will embrace the identity of Jan Boddewijk. This is the first step of many in accepting my new identity in this strange world.

    The streets were as busy as usual that morning. Carriages were departing out and abounding from the town. There was a wave of emigration towards the newly secured Port Natal, and the flood of new goods into the market has improved the variety of food in the region. Jan could smell the scent of rotten fish as Jan left the hotel, and a carriage sat in front.

    It was an ordinary carriage, and nothing was exceptional except for the dark elf at the front. He gave him the stink-eye and nodded in acknowledgement.

    "How was the trip, young master?" He curtly asked, looking away from Jan.

    "Boring," Jan replied, getting into the carriage. Huffing, he pulled his luggage into the carriage and placed it on the side. He then remembered that such duties were supposed to be carried out by the coachman, but the coachman idly sat by, watching the young master struggle.

    "To confirm, you brought everything you need, young master? I do not want your father to hit me if you forgot something," The elf dryly spoke, speaking as if it was nothing more than a Tuesday for him.

    "Nnn¡­ I got everything," Jan did a cursory check before nodding. The carriage set off, and Jan kept his eyes outside the window, watching the scenery pass him.

    Construction was typical in the Natalia Republic''s capital as more and more trekkers fled the Cape colony and entered the region. Men brought their families, but significantly of all, their slaves as they sought to escape their emancipation in the Cape. The British government offered restitution for emancipation, but slaveowners denied it as they felt the amount was little. If you asked me, they probably just wanted the title of being a slaveowner. Still, if you offered a million dollars per slave, I''m sure they''ll be able to find common ground.

    Construction of improvements like roads could be seen as roadworkers prepared the ground. They were mostly dark elves, but some men joined in the fray. Likely to be some of the penniless that lost everything amidst the trek to their new home.

    As the carriage left town, Jan spotted a shooting range just outside the town and slapped himself mentally for not visiting at least once. He touched his rifle and remembered that he was no longer in the old world and that it was the wild west. But it depended on how far away civilization the carriage had to move. Still, he could not ask such a question too quickly, for he could not give away his true identity.

    "How long till we get there?"

    "Hmm¡­ an hour or so now. I doubt there will be much action, young master, so probably don''t need to keep your gun close to you," The coach elf replied without even turning to look at him.

    ''How can I trust you?'' Jan thought to himself. And which lay the inherent problem of slavery, for there can be no trust between slaveowner and slave. How can you expect them to do a good job if there is every incentive for them to end your life and be free?

    "I know what books you have been reading, young master. But not all dark elves are the same. Hypothetically, if I were to end your life and run, I can''t just run to any other tribe. I would be shot, enslaved, and sold to another tribe or the Republic."

    ''It seems he''s a good mind reader.''

    The trip was mostly silent, so Jan scrounged his belongings. There were English books dealing with subjects like Philosophy. He could find many papers probably written by the original Jan. There were many cancelled lines of the parchment, paired with the ineligible handwriting, and he could barely make up a thing. Original Jan must be a scholar of some kind, but is he a self-study kind like Oswald Spengler or someone with formal education?

    That question brought zeal to Jan''s hands, and he dug and dug before finding a chest at the bottom of his bags. It was very light as he hefted it out of the bag and placed it on his lap. Opening the chest, he found a piece of parchment inside the box.

    South African College

    Degree of Bachelor of English Literature

    It is hereby certified that Jan Boddewijk, having satisfied the requirements prescribed by Statute, was admitted to the Degree of Bachelor of English Literature on 1<sup>st</sup> October 1833.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    The paper at the bottom of the box explained everything. It now makes sense why everyone was fine with him having such a weak command of Elfricaans. Jan Boddewijk never saw himself as a Voortrekker and was likely forced along due to his family pulling him. For a city boy like him in the Cape Colony, being uprooted into the dangerous rural must be a drastic transition for him. I''m sure he mostly thought that he was English in heart.

    Jan nodded, satisfied that some of his curiosities were alleviated. So, he began flipping through some books like Don Quixote.

    The trip was uneventful. No high flung adventures, unlike his previous days, where he even participated in a raid. Other than the hailing of other carriages, it was mostly uneventful.

    "I''m sorry to disturb your reading, young master. But we are about to reach your estate soon."

    With that, he closed the book and stuffed it into his bags before sticking his head out the window. He mentally prepared his eyes for what he was going to see.

    A large field of sugarcane spread across the lands. He could see dark dots resembling labourers hacking at the stems of the cane with sharp blades. Some dots were moving to another region, hefting large bundles of cane. The hot sun all shone mercilessly on them, and Jan gulped, sticking his head back into the wagon.

    ''This is bad. What kind of hypocrite do I have to be when my supposed family is someone who mostly profits off slavery,'' Jan bit his lip. Still, considering the others around him, he kept his mouth shut and straightened his posture.

    He will have to act his supposed part. How should he go in? Arrogant young master? But from how the coach elf treated him, it does not seem he was, Weak and mild master. It might be more suitable, but does it suit the attitude of a family of slaveowners? Compromise and mix them? Sounds great.

    The coach stopped before a wooden gate, and Jan hopped off the carriage.

    "I''ll bring the bags to your room, young master." The coach elf submissively spoke and brought the coach through another entrance.

    Opening the wooden gate, it creaked as he walked in. Closing it, he found a quaint little mansion sitting by the fields. Dark Elves were being ordered about by other dark elves, causing Jan to watch in shock. But he shook himself and got a hold of himself. He climbed the stairs and found an older man sitting on the porch.

    He smoked tobacco on a pipe and sneered at the newcomer''s entrance.

    "Hello, Jan. I hope you have finally calmed down to greet your old man. Stop being so stubborn," The man blew a puff in Jan''s direction.

    ''Frosty relations¡­ Should I continue being hostile or submit and find out more?'' Jan took the latter decision.

    "I''m sorry, father. Let the past be behind us. I apologize for all the misgivings we had between us."

    The older man heaved a sigh of relief, placed the pipe on the tabletop, and grinned. "Thank you, Jan, for being so understanding. I''m stressed about your mother leaving us, so I''m glad you''re with me. You''re the only one I have left nearby me. Everyone went to England." He snarled as he spat out the words ''England''.

    "Have you contacted mother?"

    "¡­"

    "Jan, how was Pietermaritzburg? Did Joren treat you well? Let me know if they mistreat you in any way. I won''t be buying any more pointy-ears from them."

    "Joren was fine. Showed me around the place."

    Father nodded as if he understood everything.

    "Got any plans for the future, Jan? Your old man won''t live forever," The old man swept his hands across the sugarcane fields.

    The once black dots became little elves as they scrambled to harvest sugarcane. They were frail and haggard but energetically collected them as more well-fed elves punished them with whips and canes.

    Jan frowned, and the older man''s lips let a sigh.

    "I don''t know what you learnt in school, boy. We are helping to civilize these natives. What will they do without us? They will fight among themselves and exterminate one another. Let me remind you that this land we live on once held elves on them, but Queen Shaka''s Crushing depopulated much of these lands, allowing us to settle here. We can finally bring peace and end all this tribalistic warfare. But we can''t do it for free; we can only cleanse the savageness out of their systems through hard work.

    "¡­"

    "But it''s not like I revel in such work. Nor do they, for if positions were reversed, I know it would be us who will be working in these fields. And I know that is true, for, in a way, they are not too different from us. Perhaps what we think of civilization is barbarianism to them, and they cleanse our civilization through slavery."

    "¡­"

    "Sigh. I should not bother waxing these platitudes with an Anglophile like you. You must be tired, go and rest for the night," The old man waved his hands, picked up his pipe, and began smoking again.

    As Jan turned to enter the mansion, he paused and turned.

    "I have a request."

    "Out with it, boy."

    "Do you have any books that can improve my Elfricaans? I could not talk with anyone in the capital."

    "Heh. Now you understand why I told you that you should not neglect your Dutch. I have some books on Dutch in the library. You didn''t bother with them when I bought them for you," The old men grumbled at the end in an inaudible tone.

    Jan turned and rolled his eyes, clambering up the stairs and poked his head in numerous rooms until he found a suitable space for a scholar. A large bookshelf was in the centre of the room, and when he inspected them, he found English titles. He removed all of them and found his bookshelves empty.

    Searching around the house, he found a room filled only with bookshelves. He searched around and found books in incomprehensible language. He found one titled ''Learning Dutch'' in English and took other interesting books before moving them to his room and slotting them in.

    Jan went to a desk in a corner and grabbed some papers as well as a pencil. He scribbled notes on it.

    He drew a circle around the phrase ''Save the Republic'' and drew some lines branching out from the circle.

    First question. In this period, how many are democracies? The boy was pleased with his gaming knowledge from the other world and quickly wrote down ''The United States of America''. But then he remembered the discussions in the Volksraad during his first day. The Geopolitical landscape might be completely different due to all the fantasy elements. So, he added a question mark.

    He pondered adding Mexico but remembered his campaign when playing them, where he had to constantly squash rebellions. So, he crossed it out.

    Moving on to South America, he quickly added Chile with a question mark on its side. Racking his brains for other nation-states, he did not know what else to add.

    Moving on to Europe, he quickly dismissed the proposition. Why did people migrate to the New World? To escape the monarchies of Europe and join the democracies of the New World, where they would be able to express themselves freely. But most importantly, it was due to the economic opportunities; it is understandable as no one wanted to be a serf.

    Moving on to Asia, he could not remember any Democracies and finally turned his eye onto Africa, I mean Elfrica. He paused, ''Wait if Africa becomes Elfrica? Then what are the other continents called?''

    That scary thought lingered in his mind, but he shook his head to dismiss it. He quickly divided Elfrica into three sections. North Elfrica, out. Central Elfrica, out. South Elfrica, the Boers.

    If he remembered clearly from the game, only one Republic was alive in 1836. Zoutpansberg, some tiny Boer state that had a gold mine.

    But now it''s 1841, and the Republic never lived long in his numerous playthroughs. Since this is a fantasy world, things might be different. Maybe they will become some superpower; that will be pretty scary.

    He shook his head before finally putting down the Natalia Republic. For this one, he did not add a question mark.

    It was apparent which Republic the Angel was referring to. Where did he transmigrate into? The Natalia Republic. So, it seems he was to somehow change the Republic''s fate of its eventual absorption into the British Empire.

    But it''s not like he wants to save it, either. The British at least promised emancipation of all enslaved people by this period, so the slaves would be freed if the Republic was annexed. But the Boers would trek further inland, so it will not solve the root cause.

    The British feared something because they let the Republic be for a few years. Jan drew a somewhat poor map of the political situation. He drew a tiny dot on South Elfrica and various Elfrican tribes surrounding that dot and allocated a large portion of the landmass to the Cape Colony and pondered.

    The only threat was the various Elven tribes. But then he remembered a tidbit from General Praetorius about the British occupation of Port Natal. What if the Elven tribes took the port? How long would it be before it can be fixed up? How will they thrash the place?

    So, it was apparent. They needed to show the British they had the military might to hold onto the port. So, a show of strength is required.

    But the most important thing right now, as Jan glanced over the various Dutch books, was to improve his Elfrikaans.

 Chapter 6: Battle of Blood River

    As Jan walked down the stairs, he noticed his father''s absence. Scrunching his eyebrows, he headed to the porch and found his old man sitting there, smoking on his pipe as usual.

    "Goeie more." (Good morning)

    The older man nodded in acknowledgement and waved his hands, inviting his son to come closer. Curious, Jan approached, and the man waved his hands over the fields of elves working.

    "Are you curious about how I got these elves to submit?" The older man paused, letting Jan''s eyes linger around the perimeter. All the workers were dark elves, and some even ordered some about, abusing them to keep them working to the brink of collapse.

    Jan paused, wondering what the older man was trying to talk about. He tilted his head to the side.

    "The ones barking out orders are treated better than the others. They have their comforts. I give them the right to start families, better beds, and decent food. They must know the language of Elfrikaans, unlike the tribal languages they learnt from birth. They know that they will lose all these privileges if they step out of line. And I am harsh in exacting my punishments."

    Jan frowned.

    "The rest you see are subservient to these slaves. They are given the bare minimum to survive and must please the other dark elves. These two groups hate each other."

    "And they will fight with one another and never turn their eye on the true culprit. You," Jan remarked, and the old man''s eyes shone.

    "Correct," The old man inhaled his pipe and breathed out a ring of smoke as he turned his head to face Jan.

    "But in the worst-case scenario, if things truly go to hell, I have made preparations if such a scenario pans out. As you should know, I am a Veldkornet, and I can call up my fellow men to put down such a revolt."

    "So wat probeer jy s¨º?" (So, what are you trying to say?)

    "I want you to join the army under me. I will train you into a proper Veldkornet so you can manage this ward in the future. Who knows, perhaps you might even become a Commando one day."

    Perplexed, Jan said, "Verduidelik vir my hoe dit werk?" (Explain to me how it works?")

    The older man sighed and began his lengthy explanation, constantly scolding Jan about how he had his head in books all the time and that he knew nothing about the world around him. Jan let those words enter one ear and exit the other.

    Each town has a Commando attached to it. Under that commando-general who manages a district, multiple wards are splintered off, each managed by a Veldkornet. Veldkornets handle policing, taxes, firearms issuance, and many other affairs during wartime. Jan''s father wanted him to take up such duties, abandon his supposedly Anglophile desires and pursue more worldly matters.

    Jan nodded, deciding it couldn''t hurt to learn how to shoot better. His father brought him around town, introducing him to the other burghers, landowners, and their families. Most of them greeted father with much pleasantry and spared little for Jan. As he walked about from land to land, he could feel some amenity from them.

    His father kept silent, only discussing once they finished their goodwill tour. "You feel that? The difference in treatment between you and me. Do you want to know why?"

    Jan kept silent, walking forward blankly, before turning to face his father.

    "When others and I were trekking to other unknown lands, you stayed behind like a coward, complaining that you wanted to go to England. And when I stopped paying for your living expenses, you decided to come along like a dog. You needed a whole entourage, so I called up a unit of commandoes and escorted you like some king. Even when we skirmished, you did not contribute to any fights. And hid in your carriage, whimpering like some dog."

    His old man scowled before turning away. Such harsh criticism made Jan twist his face. He had nothing to reply to, so he said nothing.

    The days went by quickly. In the morning, he would get up and train his marksmanship in the district''s shooting range, popping off shots with others. For lunch, he would chat with the other sharpshooters with his weak Elfrikaans. At first, they ignored him, thinking he was a spoiled young master that few should get close to. But as his Elfrikaans improved, words flew out of their mouths rapidly. A simple smile, greeting and sitting close to one another can improve relationships.

    He would head back to his room, further his reading of Elfrikaans and Dutch, and spend the whole afternoon there. For Dinner, he returned to the outside world to carouse with others. Usually, some older man or woman would come in and grumble about the drunks before going. Few paid attention. With little close relationships with others, he rarely spent more than a couple of minutes wolfing down his meal before continuing his readings.

    People complained of the very same things every day. He used to tune in to their conversations but got sick of the same material in every exchange.

    "Hoe gaan dit, reinout?" (How are you, reinout?)

    "Ek het nie al my produkte op die mark verkoop nie." (I didn''t sell all my produce at the market)

    "Hoekom?" (Why?)

    "Geen Engelsman by die markte vandag nie." (No Englishman at the markets today)

    "Moenie die Engelse handelaars elke Saterdag kom nie?" (Don''t the English traders come every Saturday?)

    For some reason, people always complained about being unable to sell or buy goods at the markets. But that was not too surprising, he supposed, considering most trekkers were farmers.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    At times, Jan would be inspired by the conversations and write down in a notebook, "Natalia Republic." He hid it beneath a desk, buried under many books, not wanting anyone to get his hands on it. True, he was a powerless man who could do little with his ideas, but he didn''t want anyone to find out his thoughts.

    A cross was put over the words "<s>French Empire"</s>. He instead wrote British Empire. Lines were traced from the empire. "Market Dominance", "Military Dominance", and "Colonial Dominance" were attached to lines stretching out.

    The French were an excellent nation to ally with in the future. But the Boers were too dependent on the British now. The best option would be to become a protectorate under the British Empire. That means the British must decide that handing rule over the land to one of the Boers like Praetorius is preferable over direct control.

    There were many pros to the decision. Firstly, the Boers are rebels. They do not submit under any government. They will run further inland if annexation is carried out. The lands would be worked better if the British indirectly ruled the Boers. But considering how proud some men were like Jan''s father, such submission would be deeply unpopular.

    For the road to expansion, Jan intended on forming the Republic of Transvaal and Orange Free State, both inland republics that were formed after the annexation of the Natalia Republic. They were formed due to the exodus of Boers upon British control. As of now, these lands were inhabited by townships created by his fellow Boers. These lands would save the economy due to gold and diamond mines.

    But to expand in such projects, there were issues like Natalia''s Republic government. Volksraad could pass any legislation, but the executive branch, consisting of the Commandos and Veldkornets, will be the ones enforcing legislation. There is nothing in place to force them to enact such legislation. They acted as mini-warlords which made running the country a complicated process. The only way to effectively govern would be a federation of Boer States, with a strongman leading the charge. And what other strongman could it be different from the man who formed the Natalia Republic, Andries Wilhelmus Jacobus Pretorius? For a group of independents, who else would they instead submit to other than a folk hero of their own?

    But how could Jan influence such a great man amongst the Trekkers? He needed first to earn his respect, and as for what military men respected, it was martial achievements.

    There was a lot to do. But that could wait, for such things require time.

    On this day, Jan laid his eyes upon a Boer caravan. Men on horseback flanked a herd of cattle. This strange sight stood in front of the house. He observed the phenomenon as the man in charge of the district, his father, went ahead to greet the caravan.

    His father and the men jabbered, and the cattle were escorted to the ranch on his family''s land. The man shook his head as he turned around, his raised eyebrows further wrinkling his forehead. Father looked at Jan, who began to feel nervous from his piercing gaze.

    "So¡­ I heard you and Joren had a little excursion. Why did you join him? What changed your mind?" Jan''s father asked as he walked closer and closer.

    "I thought it would be safe."

    "But you were deadweight there, weren''t you? If you did, you wouldn''t be walking away with only cattle. You might even bag your slaves. But no, Joren decided to be polite and offer us some cattle."

    "¡­"

    "You''re not a soldier. The gun on your shoulder is only a decoration. You don''t know how to shoot. Your mother pampered you too much," The old man frowned and walked away, not wanting to speak further.

    That morning, Jan intensified his firearms training. He practised reloading his musket as fast as possible and tried to make as accurate a shot as possible at the shooting range. He could hear the mockery behind his back as he gritted his teeth.

    "Daai ou skiet soos ''n kind." (That guy shoots like a kid)

    "Ek weet reg." (I know, right)

    "Die skoot het die teiken heeltemal gemis." (The shot completely missed the target)

    "Daai ou is die seun van die veldkornet, onthou hoe ons hom moes begelei!" (That guy is the son of the veldkornet, remember how we had to escort him)

    "Hah, daai ou het in die koets weggekruip toe die elwe aanval!" (Hah, that guy hid in the carriage when the elves attacked)

    "Fokken lafaard!" (Fucking coward)

    The various men under his father''s jurisdiction muttered insults in Elfrikaans behind his back, thinking he was a monolingual, wannabe Englishman who could not speak his people''s language.

    ''They''re not wrong,'' Jan thought, reloading his musket as he sighed. Pulling the trigger, the shot flew out and struck the outer rim of the target. The man was slightly encouraged by that small victory.

    The words behind him stopped. As he reloaded the next round, he increased his concentration to hear what others had to say about him.

    "Selfs my ouma kan beter as hy skiet!" (Even my grandmother can shoot better than him!")

    "Fok selfs my 3 jarige dogter kan beter as hy skiet!" (Fuck even my 3-year-old daughter can shoot better than him!)

    "Watter een?" (Which one?)

    "Wat bedoel jy?" (What do you mean?")

    "Die meisie wat jy saam met jou vrou gemaak het? Of my suster?" (The girl you made with your wife? Or with my sister?)

    "Wag, is dit jou suster? Fok. Moenie vir my vrou s¨º nie." (Wait, that''s your sister? Fuck. Don''t tell my wife.)

    Sounds of fighting broke out between two men, and men stood in to drag the two from one another. Swears were hurled at one another as Jan sighed.

    Father had something to say to Jan as he returned from the shooting range. So, Jan followed him to his study. The older man unfurled a piece of parchment and scribbled circles and crosses on the paper.

    He turned to face Jan, asking, "English or Elfrikaans?"

    "English, of course."

    The older man frowned, mumbling to himself. The young Voortrekker could make out some swear words about England.

    "I will talk about tactics. Son, since I''m planning to let you take over my position. You must know military tactics. And for that, I will talk about the most famous recent battle."

    "Battle of Blood River?"

    "Indeed. Four hundred seventy-five men and I participated in the battle. I was just a lowly trekker. We had 64 wagons and two artillery pieces."

    "The Zulus were fighting a civil war between themselves. Princess Mpande sought to oust Queen Dingane, and we supported the former. That Queen broke an agreement with other of us and had them all killed. Men, women and children. She is unfit to rule. Andries Pretorius was the Commander in charge of the operation, and he naturally decided to focus on ousting Queen Dingane. The Zulus might fight with spears and shields, but thousands of them exist. We only have hundreds, but with our guns and artillery. However, we will run out of ammunition first."

    "So we decided to head straight for Queen Dingane''s residence in UmGungundlovu. However, it is surrounded by hilly and rocky terrain. So it was difficult to launch an attack. However, there is a passageway through a narrow gorge via Italeni," The old man stacked some rocks together to form hills and created a gap between the stones to simulate the battlefield.

    "On 9th April 1838, a Flight Commando, basically a group of Boers on horseback, tried to break through Italeni," Father moved a big rock, through the small gap, before continuing," but the defenders repulsed it.

    "Some men were demoralized and fled, especially a man called Hendrik Potgieter, and they abandoned all hopes of settling in the Natal. We could not proceed through the gap as we would be ripe for a Zulu ambush. So, we linked our wagons together and turned them into castle walls as we waited," Jan''s father left a big rock on the paper and surrounded it with many small stones.

    "If we tried to go through the passageway, the Zulu can fight us head-on, neutralizing our advantages with our guns. So, we could not do that. We wanted Zulus to attack our wagon fortress, but they never bought the bait,"

    "On 6th December 1838, Praetorius received some intelligence from friendly Zulu chieftesses and proposed a vow to God, in that event we won; we will celebrate the victory. We will even build a church in Natal. In exchange, we gained the ability to fight the magical elves evenly."

    Upon hearing his father''s words, Jan asked, "What ability?"

    "A zone that completely neutralized elven magic."

    ''Ah¡­ it makes sense how history played out so similarly,'' Jan thought.

    "We camped by a vertical descent into the river. Our sides were covered with wagons, and our artillery sat close by, ready to fire."

    "On the day itself, I was nervous as hell, boy. Seeing the thousands of shields in the distance scared me. We fired volley after volley against the black tidal wave. At some point, I saw the men on horseback riding out to cut down any remaining Zulu. We were running out of ammunition."

    "Those dark skin pointy-ears ran for their lives as the horses chased after them. Spears and shields laid on the ground around me as the colour of red splattered the ground¡­." The older man gripped his heart as the scenes replayed in his mind. He did not even bother moving rocks as he was mesmerized in his thoughts.

    "And I tell you, Jan. The reason why I celebrate 16th December every year. Do you know how many of my brothers died in that battle? 0. God was truly on our side. So, what''s the moral of the story, Jan?"

    "Always stay by defensive position?" Jan proposed, scratching the back of his head.

    "Indeed, and that''s why I respect Praetorius. I heard that you met the man at the Volksraad. I hope you didn''t offend the man by any means. I will skin you alive, boy!"

    "Of course not, hah..."

 Chapter 7: Port Natal

    "Don''t they have magic? How did you beat them?" Jan asked.

    "I don''t remember¡­ Not that I cared that time; I was trying to survive."

    "¡­"

    "You think I know everything? You go to university. You should know everything."

    "So, you went to the Volksraad. What are some of the things the other men proposed?" Father waved another stack of papers in Jan''s face.

    "Go through them for me. Tell me which I should follow and which I should ignore."

    "Shouldn''t all of them be followed?"

    "Jan, look at this one. Tax on beer. All the men in the community will hang me on the tree if I implement this. Let me tell you, none of them should be followed."

    "Then what''s the point of the Volksraad?"

    "Everyone gets two-pound sterling per day as they attend the Volksraad. That''s why I''m not giving you pocket money even though you''re so old."

    "That sounds stupid."

    "You can try to enter the executive branch and change things. They change every three months. But you have to go through not only me but also the other Veldkornets and Commandos."

    The Veldkornet stormed off, leaving Jan to pick up the papers and scan through them. And, of course, they were in the insufferable Elfrikaans. He could make out many terms he could not decipher the meaning of, so he went to study and referred to his dictionary.

    "Lower the tax on farmers? Sure, I can do that. But where will I get the funds to purchase firearms and artillery to repel a future elf attack."

    "The construction of roads? Why should I do that? Where can I get the funds to purchase the materials? The manpower? Conscript the men to do so. Jan, you will also be joining them in digging the ground."

    "Kick the English traders out? Which stupid idiot wrote this? Where are we to sell our produce once we kick them out."

    The Veldkornet rejected most of the suggestions of the Veldkornet, sticking to the way things were in the Republic. Jan knew he was not the only one. No matter what was legislated, little could be done to push for change in the Republic.

    The marketplace was busy. Farmers were lining the roads with wagons in the nearest marketplace. A caravan of traders bearing the insignia of the British Empire appeared overnight and began purchasing all of the goods. The smell of mutton and beef wafted around the marketplace as farmers presented their cattle to be exchanged with British Sterling. Most of the men who left the marketplace headed to the shops, where the shopkeepers demanded payment for the built-up credit. Women enjoyed the cheap price afforded due to the fresh injection of goods, while children scattered about playing various games.

    The sound of English, good English, entered Jan''s ears, and he could not help but make himself to the marketplace. English tradesmen were parading their wares as the pound sterling changed hands. The traders could speak no lick of Elfricaans, but they had dark elves assisting them. Most inhabitants showed disdain towards the elves, talking smack behind their backs, but they were all smiles as their eyes were glued to the glorious British coin.

    Dressed no different from the Boers, he could not identify them. But by guessing the centre of the crowd, he found the traders hawking goods like sheep, cattle, dairy, oranges, corn, fodder, cotton, bananas and pineapples. Every minute or so, a farmer exchanged a head of cattle for some coins. And he could see dark elves hefting his father''s sugarcane to the men. Jan frowned as the coins exchanged, knowing that the men would provide little while they would probably double the profit as they made the journey to Cape Colony.

    ''We could probably double our income if we export it to Port Natal.'' Jan frowned, realising how the crops were made. Yes, they were earned through slave labour. And yes, he should probably free them. But what''s stopping them from putting a knife through his neck? This isn''t like those animations; they weren''t going to be grateful and go. They were probably going to torture him and his father to death slowly.

    The Voortrekker gulped, realising how much his thinking had changed. By right, he should free them, but were they even his to release? He shook his head, acknowledging the struggles of the JP protag.

    "Hoeveel vir die donker elf?" (How much for the dark elf?)

    The dark elf translated the Elfrikaans and whispered it to one of the English traders.

    "She''s not for sale. She''s an apprentice," The Englishman declared and let the elf translate his reply.

    "Laat haar vakleerling onder my!" (Let her apprentice under me.)

    "I''m sorry, sir. I insist. She''s not for sale."

    The Dutchman stormed off to the tavern, even though its right in the afternoon. Yet the tradesman did not even lift a finger to soothe his heart, for he had many others to attend to.

    There were various goods he inspected, but Jan left, not finding anything of interest. Simple tradesman like them brought goods that would appeal to the common folk, so relatively mundane items that could be found in a grocery store was presented to them, except that their prices were exorbitant. Boohoo, globalisation.

    "So he went to the usual destination, either than the porch where he lay to smoke, or his father went off somewhere else to converse with his subordinates. Today it was porch smoking, so he stood on the porch, letting his old man acknowledge his presence.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    His father waved his hand, letting him speak.

    "Why do we sell it directly to the tradesman?"

    "Praat in Elfrikaans," (Speak in Elfrikaans) Elder Boddewijk grinned as he spoke.

    "Hoekom verkoop ons die suikerriet direk aan die ambagsmanne? Kon ons dit nie in Port Natal teen ''n opslag verkoop nie?" (Why do we directly sell the sugarcane to the tradesmen? Couldn''t we sell it in Port Natal at a markup)

    "Kilink lastig, weet jy selfs die pryse?" (Sounds troublesome, do you even know the prices?)

    An idea fall into place, so Jan spoke, "Ek kan hulle vir jou nagana." (I can check them out for you.)

    Elfrikaans was a relatively simple language. Its use of Latin characters does not force one to rewire the brain like when learning Chinese or Japanese. It uses a singular gender, and verb conjugations are not used. Spelling is somewhat intuitive, and words can be easily sounded out upon learning the correct pronunciation.

    It did not take too long to bring it up to a conversational level, but it will take far longer at an academic level. Most of the language was inspired by Dutch, so academic Dutch was all he had to refer to. Still, Jan''s mind thought in English, and it will probably be stuck to thinking so in English. So, he constantly had to translate his English thoughts into Elfrikaans.

    Good thing for that because at Port Natal, everyone was speaking English¡­ His cheap father refused to give him any escorts, wanting him to become a true trekker. He tied his horses at a stable on the outskirts of town and paid the maintenance with his father''s sum coin, his Volksraad salary. 2 British Pound Sterling was like $254 dollars. It was making things awkward as he stood there watching the stable owner, unable to change his money. The nearest banking branch was the Bank of Africa, so he requested that the sterlings be adjusted to smaller denominations.

    But the clerks refused to move their feet unless he created one, so he opened a deposit account, dumped the pound sterlings inside of it, and it can be turned into 20 shillings each, which can then be turned into 240 pennies. In summary, 1 pound gives 20 shillings. And 1 shilling gives 12 pennies. Withdrawing 12 pennies, Jan grumbled, grabbed his horse, and pulled it back to the stable before giving the stable a penny and finally returning to the port.

    Port Natal was more English than Dutch, with its inhabitants fluently speaking English. Some ships were docked nearby, as coolies moved goods from ship to shore before moving them from shore to ship.

    The port was divided. English speakers were kept in a clique, and Elfrikaans speakers were held in another clique. Swear words about both parties could be heard from each other, that Jan could fluently tell, for the best part about learning a language starts with its swear words.

    He went to the docks, looked around for traders, and spoke to them comfortably using English. Dutch traders frowned and turned away from him as he kept using English.

    "You buy sugarcane?"

    "What? No! Who would buy sugarcane?"

    "What?"

    "It needs to be refined first! At a sugar mill!" The English trader pointed him at a building in the distance. Jan left, not wanting to embarrass himself further.

    A watermill was attached to the building built by the river. His eyes were mesmerised as the river water pushed the wheel, making it spin. Wagons carrying sugarcane entered the building and left it. Sounds of hacking could be heard as metal hacked against the cane.

    Sneaking a peak around the corner, he watched giant rollers pressing sugarcane tossed between the rolls. The syrup it produces is then left in a pan, where another white worker takes the pan and brings it into the sun.

    Two taps could be felt on his shoulder, so he turned to face a descendant of an elf and a human.

    "Aagh!"

    "Ah, you speak English. Good." The hybrid spoke accented English. He stood tall with his posture straight, with a confident atmosphere around him. He continued, "What are you doing on my mill?"

    "Ahh," Jan straightened his attire and stretched out his hand.

    "Jan Boddewijk,"

    "Samuel Miles, owner of this beautiful refinery you see in front of you. How can I help you?" The elf frowned at the apparent Dutch quality of the name.

    "I got some sugarcane. Seeing you got a refinery here, how much would you buy them for?"

    "How much would you want for a quintal? Any samples? I have merchants scrounging the countryside for sugarcane. No offence, sir, but if your sugarcane wasn''t chosen. It means your sugarcane isn''t good enough. All our sugarcane is ethically sourced."

    "What do you mean by ethics?"

    "Simple. We don''t purchase sugarcane from plantations that engage in slavery. Mills desperate for sugar could be seen down the street. Turn right, and you will see more wagons of sugarcane."

    And like that, Samuel left Jan with no further being said. It was rude, extremely rude, but Jan had nothing to say. By Samuel''s logic, the sugarcane he''s seeking to offer isn''t ethical.

    So, he spent the day milling about from mill to mill before turning up in an inn to turn in for the night. He decided to pick a supposedly English inn because the various patrons slurred English outside. Hearing English soothed him, reminding him of his old world, where English was every day in the streets instead of Elfrikaans.

    He took in more details of his surroundings the following day. Based on the Commandos patrolling the streets, he quickly walked up to one short patrol and spoke up.

    "Hallo, ek wil graag vir kommandeur Praetorius sien." (Hello, I would like to see Commander Praetorius.)

    "Wie is jy?" (Who are you?)

    "Ek is ''n verteenwoordiger van ''n lid van die Volksraad." (I am a representative of a member of the Volksraad.)

    The Boer Commandoes rolled their eyes, clearly showing what they thought of the Volksraad, but relented. A member broke off from the party and escorted Jan. Halfway through the streets; the member told him the rest of the way to the garrison before heading off into a tavern. What a true Trekker.

    "Jan? I heard from some of my men you wanted to see me. We were about to make preparations to head to Pietermaritzburg before heading into Zululand."

    "Praetorius, laat ek om verskoning vra vir my gebrek aan dekorum die vorige keer." (Praetorius, let me apologize for my lack od decorum the previous time.)

    "Ek gee nie om vir sulke sake nie. Hoe kan ek jou help?" ( I do not care for such matters, how can I help you?)

    ''Where do I even begin?'' Jan thought, racking his brains.

    "Hoe voel jy oor die volksraadverrigtinge?" (How do you feel about the Volksraad proceedings?)

    "Die besprekings is goed, maar ek weet nie hoe die ander kommando-generaals daaroor voel nie." (The discussions are fine, but I don''t know how the other Commando-Generals feel about it)

    The man spoke with a knowing tone, knowing how valuable Volksraad proceedings were in his little Republic. If the man wanted to push anything through, he could have quickly done it with the rest of the Trekkers support. The rest would trek further inland; that is why if he intends to change History, he must have Andries Praetorius on his side.

    "Hoe voel jy oor die uitvoerende tak, wat elke drie maande van hande verwissel." (How do you feel about the executive branch, changing hands every three months?)

    "Ek dink dis absurd. Maar niemand kla nie, so ek dink dis goed." (I do think it''s absurd. But no one is complaining, so I guess it''s fine.)

    "Aangesien die uitvoerende gesag voorstelle van die Volksraad uitvoer, behoort die uitvoerende gesag nie uitsluitlik uit Veldkornets en Kommando-generaals te bestaan nie?" (Considering the executive branch executes proposals of the Volksraad, shouldn''t the executive branch consist solely of Veldkornets and Commando-Generals?)

    "Hierdie manne is nodig om teen elwe-aanvalle te verdedig. As hulle nie beskikbaar is nie, wie sal daar wees om te verdedig." (These men are necessary to defend against elven attacks. If they''re not available, who will be there to mount a defense.)

    "Net soos die Volksraad kan sekerlik verteenwoordigers in hul plek gestuur word. Indien nie, waarom nie ''n ander Veldkornet laat oorneem in die geval van ''n vermiste kommando-generaal nie." (Just like the Volksraad, surely representatives can be sent in their place. If not, why not have another Veldkornet take charge in the event of a missing Commando-General.)

    "Ek dink nie die ander generaals sal oop wees vir die idee nie¡­" (I don''t think the other generals will be open to the idea¡­)

    ''Military man. The only way to appeal to him is through martial benefits.'' Jan took some time to reflect.

    "Die deelname van die Kommando''s en Veldkornet aan binnelandse sake sal die vermo? van die Natalia se Republiek verbeter om saam op enige toekomstige bedreigings te reageer." (The participation of the Commandos and Veldkornet in internal affairs will improve the ability of the Natalia''s Republic ability to respond to any future threats together.)

    "Sulke goed klink wonderlik. Maar dit sal die beste wees om dit te implementeer nadat die stryd met die Zoeloe verby is. Miskien sal dit die beste wees nadat koningin Dingane onttroon is." (Such things sound great. But it will be best to implement them after the strife with the Zulu is over. Perhaps it would be best after Queen Dingane is dethroned.)

    The Great Boer General spoke, and Jan knew there was little he could get through his mind. Reason can bring him so far, but he needed martial respect. For sure, if he knew his father was here, he knew Praetorius would heed his word, owing to the camaraderie of fighting together that the two had.

    However, all didn''t know how short time was before the Republic would die, as the acquisition of Port Natal under the Natalia Republic will add more British eyeballs onto the tiny Republic.

 Chapter 8: Sawabona

    The offers from the sugar mill were nice, but in his haste, Jan forgot to even ask the prices his father sold his sugarcane at. He could only rub his face into his hands, mentally calling himself an idiot. Still, he spent days walking about the port, mapping the area and the various districts. Praetorius is looking to install a Commando and his Veldkornets into the Port, but the majority English population is resistant to his ideals and wishes to govern themselves.

    The issue is currently at an impasse, but everyone knew how things went if things escalated. If Andries Praetorius subjugated the English, they would call upon their overlords on the British Isles to crush the little Boer Republic, making Praetorius careful in his next actions. The Elven and half-elf population in the Port were supportive, for everyone knew if the Boers seized control, the shackles would once again come around their necks.

    Politically, things were a mess with the power vacuum created by the withdrawal of British Highlanders. But for the traders who ply their goods, it provided an opportunity where no middlemen would seek a cut of their earnings.

    Jan knew such matters were too big for his breeches, so he left things alone. Such trouble would not bother to find him, for he is no big fish, just a mere incompetent son of a Veldkornet.

    It was a mostly uneventful trip back home to his father''s district. It was endless reels of grasslands, ranches, savannah and ranches. The men tending to their cattle kept their guns close by, especially as they saw that he was armed as well. But few were looking for trouble, especially with his pale skin. Yet Jan knew if his skin was much darker, he would be shot on site.

    He also concluded the Elven tribal attacks were greatly exaggerated. If there were any, he didn''t receive any. A small tinge of disappointment it was, but he didn''t want to get in a fight. There were many opportunities to do so in Zululand.

    All the more surprising when he saw a dark elf on the porch, he clutched tightly on his firearm. Of course, his father who already detected his presence raised his hands. Jan slung his rifle back around his shoulder.

    "Ahh, Jan. Let me introduce you to Nokuthula, she''s a representative of one of the various Zulu chiefs from Zululand. She understands both English and Elfrikaans."

    As Jan''s eyes scanned over Nokuthula, she wore what men usually wear. A cotton shirt paired with dusters with wool trousers. Her long hair reached her shoulders. Her beautiful yet stoic face greeted the newcomer.

    "Sawabona. It means I see you." The elf politely said and stretched out her hands. Her slender looked soft, but as he grasped onto her hands, he could feel the callouses the on her hands.

    "In Zulu culture, we will start by holding hands, then we will wrap around fingers around the other''s thumb," Nokuthula wrapped her hands around his thumb, before returning to her original position. With expectant eyes, she waited for Jan to follow suit.

    Looking towards his father who looked away, Jan decided to play along.

    Grasping the base of her thumb with a couple of fingers, he felt the bones on the base of her thumb for seconds. Looking into her eyes, he felt unsure, but he knew he was doing something wrong. Feeling like it was too long, he returned to the original handshake position.

    "At this time, you would be saying Yebo, Sawabona. It means Yes, I see you."

    "Yebo, Sawabona."

    "Nokuthula, I would like to have some private discussions with my boy. Is it possible if you to excuse us momentarily?"

    The elf nodded and let us be.

    Surprisingly, his father spoke in English.

    "It would be a shame to let such a beauty work on the fields. Bah, elf girls are hard to come by," His father let out.

    "¡­"

    "Don''t be like that boy. I saw you were holding her hands for far too long. You must agree with me. Don''t worry boy, I won''t fight with you over her."

    "¡­"

    "Alright, let''s get down to business. How should we deal with her? The Zulu Kingdom might be a monarchy, but it has various tribal chiefs managing different tracts of land. She represents one of them. I don''t know who, could be the strongest, or could be the weakest, hell if I know. All I know is that she''s gathering intel here."

    "Then shouldn''t we get rid of her?"

    "So, you do want her. Damn boy, keep your loins in check. We are still technically fighting against the Zulu Kingdom. If we, cough cough, make her disappear, Praetorius will make the both of us disappear. We could trek further inland, but I''m not going to abandon this sugar plantation I painstakingly built up all because my son is a fucking horny bastard."

    "¡­"

    "Not funny? Young people these days, I swear, you all can''t take a good joke. Still, she will be with us for a day or two. I cannot trust that one of my subordinates might do something untoward with her so I''m temporarily having her stay in the guest room. What do you think we should do Jan?"

    This time, his father looked at him with expectant eyes. Jan looked towards the stairs and looked at his father, and a sliver of disappointment popped up in his expression.

    "Might as well treat our guest well. No reason to hide anything from her. We have nothing much to hide in the first place." The young Voortrekker sighed, feeling a sense of hopelessness from the fact that they had nothing to hide from her.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    As Jan headed for his room, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

    "I think you''ll be the most suitable to show her around."

    "Father, aren''t you the most suitable, especially in such political affairs?"

    "She''s only a mere representative. If the Zulu Chieftess was here in person, it would make sense for me to show her around. But if I do it, wouldn''t it be me admitting that I''m lower in status than a mere chieftess? That''s why it would be best if it was you. Who knows, maybe it will turn out like the trashy English romance novels you keep with you, and she''ll fall in love in love¡­"

    Jan bolted for his room and found the remnant books left by his predecessor buried in some drawers. Looks like his predecessor had such a hobby and did not want to let others know. He mentally shelved it away, remembering it so he could keep his current actions consistent with his past.

    Past him was an Anglophile scholar. He could keep up such appearances easily. The desire to grow Elfrikaans could be attributed to his brief stint at Volksraad where he found it extremely humiliating to be left out. Their interest in military affairs can also be attributed to the lack of respect his father''s subordinates saw in him. But pretending to be a romance novels connoisseur, the inexperienced new Jan Boddewijk could not play the part.

    Sighing, he rolled with it and decided to play along with his father.

    "Sawabona," The Voortrekker greeted the dark elf.

    "Haven''t we greeted each other already?"

    "¡­ Anyway, I''ve been assigned to show you around the town. Where would you like to go?"

    "Lead the way."

    "Then let''s go to the shooting range."

    The elf wrapped a cloth around her mouth, which covered her ears. Still, her dark skin tone made her stand out in the distinctly white town.

    "What made you decide to wear the attire of a man? You''re a woman aren''t you?" Jan studied his companion''s feminine features contrasting with her masculine outfit.

    "In my studies on Boer societies, they are patriarchal, are they not? I wore these to show my authority."

    "¡­"

    The rest of the short walk was silent.

    Targets of differing lengths, 10 metres, 50 metres and 100 metres were set across a field. A line demarcating the shooter''s position was set. Unslinging his firearm, Jan went to his usual routine to train his shooting. Deciding that he was suitably proficient at 10 metres, he tried for 50 metres.

    Cartridge, bite, pour, put, ram, cock, trigger. He did all of the actions as fast as he could. With a bang, the ball completely missed the target. His guest stood behind him, swaying her feet about as she watched.

    "Hy is nog steeds sleg." (He''s still bad.)

    "Hy het darem daardie nuwe slaaf deur pappa gekoop." (At least he got that new slave bought by daddy)

    "My pa sal my doodmaak as ek een koop. Hy het ges¨º ek moet my eie een gaan haal." (My father would kill me if I bought one. He said I should go get my one.)

    "So jy het jou eie een gekry?" (So you got your one?)

    "Nee, ek is eerder gevange geneem." (No, I got captured instead)

    "¡­"

    "Can I have a try?" Nokuthula spoke up after a couple of missed shots. Some barely grazed the outer rim, but most missed the mark. Wiping some sweat off his brow, Jan decided it couldn''t hurt to let her try.

    Handing over his firearm, he passed a piece of an unopen cartridge and stood behind her. Still, his muscles tensed up, feeling a little worried that his only piece of reassurance in this world was leaving him for a while.

    As all first-timers do, she tore the cartridge with her hands and poured the powder into the barrel. Setting the round on the barrel, she carefully retrieved the rammer, and began ramming the ball into the end of the barrel. She was about to pull it out but Jan spoke up.

    "You might want to tap on it a few times. To make sure the ball is sitting on the powder."

    Nokuthula slid the rammer back in and tapped the ball lightly, before pulling it out. Cocking the rifle, she aimed it at the 10-metre target and pulled the trigger. As a small explosion lit up in the rifle, a bang echoed throughout the grounds, and the bullet struck the centre of the target. Bullseye.

    The young man could only let his mouth hang out as he felt somewhat depressed.

    "Do you mind if I take another shot?" She asked, stretching out her hands to take another cartridge. Jan passed over the cartridge, and Nokuthula did it again. This time, she bit into the cartridge and tore out the top. Her reloading speed was much more drastic, and very quickly she cocked the rifle and let out a shot on the 50-metre target. Bullseye.

    He took the time to study her expression as she passed back the gun to Jan. Was it mockery in her eyes? But he couldn''t tell, for it''s hard to tell someone''s expression when one-half of their face is covered.

    "No need to feel too bad. I had some prior experience with some firearms." Nokuthula shrugged her shoulders.

    "Ok."

    The next day or two was nothing special. He showed her the place. Shooting range, inn, and the ranches owned by his father''s subordinates. Speaking of them, few dared to do anything frisky with their companion. Even though she lacked a firearm, there was a mystical attribute around her that made one think twice before harming such an individual.

    "I heard the elves had magic. I assume that''s why you don''t carry around a firearm like the rest of us?" Jan spoke up as a subtle feeling sunk in. That this was not just a rather beautiful elf beside him. She was not just a pretty doll, that''s for sure.

    "The environment around accommodates us. And we accommodate the environment. In such a beautiful symbiotic relationship, why wouldn''t we protect one another?"

    "What do you think about the Boers?"

    "Would you like the polite answer or the truth?"

    "¡­"

    "I will just paraphrase one of the writings made by your fellow man. Men should have never come to Elfrica. The environment is extremely hostile to them. While they could survive, they could never thrive, unlike the natives.

    ''Touchy subject.''

    He made small talk with her every so often, but sometimes she never replied, so Jan continued his daily routine. Shooting in the morning, and eating in the inn before retreating to his studies. He would pass Nokuthula some books and let her be as he focused on improving in Elfrikaans.

    With his somewhat meagre command of the language, he added books on the history of the world into his readings. World History was almost similar, except for some major changes. The inclusion of fantasy species added many more entities to maps of the world. The other continents were well-mapped except for the interior of Africa. Correction, Elfrica. He was so used to calling it in the terms the old world used. Hell, the continent even looked the same.

    Major changes include Eastern Europe, where history books mentioned the appearances of Centaurs. Much of it was filled with Khanates, with few human states. Most notably the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, the Kingdom of Muscovy, and the Novgorod Republic. And its Polish bodies were huge, and it occupied some lands in the East Prussia region. It stood as a bulwark to the Centaur Khanates.

    Qing China and the rest of Asia were relatively normal, except for the scattering of fantastical species most notable in folklore. For example, demons or Yao Guai as well as Dragons exist. Some of the best artisanal sects reside in China, which is why trade between Europe and Asia is so lucrative.

    The Dutch East Indies ruled the Netherlands, and the British East India Company(EIC) ruled India through indirect rule. The colonization of Australia was well-underway except for the large presence of giant spider people. There were no drawings for the faint of heart.

    North and South America were crazy. The Incas and Aztecs were still around. They were led by giant thunderbirds and harpies respectively. Well, at least there''s no heart sacrifice here except for innocence. The conquistadors did not stand a chance with their muskets against the flying species. So, they could only establish colonies only by sea, any interior colonization was formed along the rivers. So many of the resources weren''t exploited. Due to the existence of the two empires, Indians in America headed north into the North American continent, where they had to deal with buffalo tribes. Britain somehow played both parties and formed the Thirteen Colonies, now known as the United States.

    Western Europe looked normal at least. As normal as it can be in such conditions. And of course, it''s not normal. There were vampires, and somehow talking rat people appeared in 1346.

    North Africa was fine, but it was mostly colonised by humans. Most of the elven natives were pushed inland, or cough cough deported to the New World. To work in plantations, non-consensually.

    Somehow Arabia was also fine. Ottomans were still the sick men of Europe, as well as that little Greece that popped right out of it. If they''re there, the history of the world can''t be too different.

    The history is pretty crazy. And because Jan with his modern world mind remembered the modern world maps, his brain melted from the ridiculousness of it all. It was as if the world was built by some 12-year-old.

    Putting the book away, he returned to Dutch to regain his sanity. At least grammar was logical, and syntactically, there was a certain structure and rules put to it. But politics? There''s a little structure. Fantasy politics? Something tells Jan that political students in Universities worldwide in the future are going to cry from the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

 Chapter 9: Battle of Maqongqo

    All things come to an end, and Nokuthula bid goodbyes and left. All the more surprising when he went to the porch and found another dark elf.

    "Trust me, sir, the Zulus'' cannot be trusted. There are a group of warmongering peoples. And they will bring ruin. The Mfecane killed 1 to 2 million of our peoples."

    This time Jan did not even bother to sneak and just walked to the porch.

    ''Feels like Groundhog day,'' He thought to himself.

    "Ahh¡­ Jan, this is Mncedisi. She''s a representative of the Gaza Kingdom."

    "Sawabona." Jan stretched out his hand, copying what the Zulu representative did.

    "Yebo, Sawabona." Mncedisi caught his hand and wrapped her fingers around his thumb. He did likewise and their hands left one another.

    Her expression was much brighter considering he followed the customs of the Nguni elves, unlike his father who did not give a rat shit.

    "What brings you here?" He asked.

    "I seek to build relationships with the Boer peoples. I hope you do not mind that I intrude on your presence."

    "It is no problem."

    "Looks like you can handle everything, Jan." His father remarked, and he dumped everything on him once again.

    He decided against bringing her to the shooting range. Now that he thought about it, doing so could be perceived as an act of intimidation, and that was why the Zulu representative had to reassert her place as equals through her demonstration. So, he did something simpler, he brought her to the farms and fields.

    Feeling that it was awkward just walking about silently he spoke out. He pointed at a cow and said," That is a cow."

    He pointed at a sheep and said, "That is a sheep.".

    He pointed at the sugarcane and said," That is sugarcane.".

    He got bored and decided to stop, considering the lack of response.

    "I find it interesting how the way our people live is not too different," Mncedisi spoke out as they watched people farm.

    "How are we similar?"

    "Most of the men deal with the cattle. While women mostly deal with crop cultivation. That is how our society is organized."

    "Interesting."

    With nothing else to do, they went to the shooting range, and did the same thing with Nokuthula, except he let Mncedisi let out a few shots. She was not as good as Nokuthula.

    And soon they bid farewell, and he went to the porch.

    His father sat there smoking, his lips curling up.

    "Your eyes seem expectant boy. Want another elf to be here?"

    "¡­"

    "Anyway, I have something serious to discuss. Pretorius is looking to get men to help Princess Mpande in her revolt against her half-sister Queen Dingane. Now I don''t think there will be much to loot. You might be able to get some slaves, but I don''t think the new Queen will let you leave alive."

    Jan frowned, and his father smirked.

    "I understand you''re an abolitionist, and you think I''m some kind of devil. But understand that everything you have, even the college education was paid for by me, and by the slaves working in the fields. So don''t get all high and mighty."

    Jan sighed and shook his head.

    ''To be able to influence Pretorius, I have to go and gain a bit of reputation on the battlefield. Likewise, I''ll be able to gain the respect of my father''s subordinates.''

    "I''m interested."

    "Great, my son becoming a true trekker. This is dream come true for me. Your mother would probably kill me, grumble grumble. Grab a horse and meet up with General Pretorius. Understand that he is your commander, and you will obey his every order."

    Jan nodded his head and set out to prepare for the trek.

    Restocking cartridges from his father''s armoury, he cleaned his trusty musket before setting out to Pietermaritzburg, the capital of the fledging Natal Republic, to meet up with Pretorius.

    An hour later, the town was bustling with the sounds of excitement. And he could see men sitting about the town, and in the centre of the group of men, was the general himself. He was on horseback, and he looked directly West.

    He was making a speech, prepping the hundreds of men preparing for the trek.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Soos ons almal weet, is Port Natal stewig in beheer van die Britte. Ons sal ''n seehawe in St. Luciabaai nodig h¨º, wat prinses Mpande bereid was om ons aan te bied, om te help om die leuenagtige koningin Dingane te onttroon. Ons sal dan in staat wees om ons goedere te verkoop, sonder om onderworpe te wees aan belasting van die oproerige Britte." (As we all know, Port Natal is firmly in control of the British. We will need a sea-harbour in St. Lucia Bay, that Princess Mpande was willing to offer us, help dethrone the lying Queen Dingane. We''ll then be able to sell our goods, without being subjected to taxes of the conniving British.)

    "Ons sal met ons Zoeloe-bondgenote ontmoet voordat ons na Zoeloeland oorsteek." (We''ll meet with our Zulu allies before crossing into Zululand.)

    With a simple speech outlying their military actions, he stayed silent, and the men whispered into himself. Intermixed within the groups of men were servants of eleven origins. The pointy ears were not hidden, for it was blasted in full display, signifying their status within the military. Masculine elves hefted the various belongings, shifting them from wagon to wagon.

    Someone came up to him with a group of men. It was that helpful secretary in the Volksraad, Joren Hoenderman.

    "Jan? I see you''re joining us for the campaign."

    "Joren? Aangename Kennis, (Nice to meet you)" Jan looked at the men around Joren, and their blank faces told him how much they comprehended their conversation.

    "Sorry to cut the conversation short, Jan. I''ll have to attend to my servants," Joren apologized and turned to attend to the various elven servants.

    And that was war, mostly sitting about, waiting about for action. So he went to the public library to read.

    When he heard that the commotion outside increased, he shelved the book, dashed out to the stable, hopped onto his horse and followed the trio of men marching to the front. Wagons with horses'' tide to the front rode in formation. They rode single-filed at first, with men sitting in the wagons, while horsemen like him on horseback rode forth alongside the 50 wagons. Quite some distance from town, Pretorius reorganized the wagons, so they did not travel in single file, minimising the damage from an ambush.

    Eventually, the group arrived, and 5000 Zulu Impi stood across the group. Tensions were high, as men grabbed onto their guns and the Impi lowered their shields, ready to charge when necessary. Looking over the hundreds of men in the party, Jan shuddered.

    A small group consisting of Andries Pretorius as well as a small group of Zulu warriors met between the parties. And as usual, for some reason, a female elf was flanked by Zulu warriors. This world truly is messed up, if it was in his original history, he was pretty sure the commander would be a male. But the creator of the world had to gender-bent the important characters.

    The two had their discussions, before returning to their various camps. The two trekked to Zululand, with the Zulu warriors leading the way. Jan and the horsemen slowed the paces of their horses, to keep up with the marching speed. At some point, the group split, and the Zulus advanced across the coast, while the Boers went along Blood River.

    An enemy Zulu party led by Queen Dingane sat across the river. All three parties watched one another, waiting to see who would ford the river first.

    At some point, the two war parties'' movement stopped, and the men set up camp. Envoys from Queen Dingane arrived to greet both parties.

    The envoy introduced themselves as Dambusa and was on behalf of the Zulu Queen. Considering what happened to the previous Boers who made deals with Queen Dingane, Pretorius had him executed. The cacophony of gunfire accompanied by the swears made by the bounded-up elf was a sight to see.

    The young Voortrekker didn''t know what happened to the other envoy that went to Princess Mpande''s war camp, but he didn''t hear gunfire.

    Seeing the hostility, Dingane''s troops began withdrawing into some mountainous regions on the horizon and took up position on some hills.

    Using Elven magic, no bright lights were appearing like in the games, Allied Elven party began fording the river and chased the retreating Queen''s troops. They ran across the water with simple taps, quickly arriving on the other side.

    The Boers grumbled as they were left behind, and the very kind elves did not consider them. They slowly forded the river, carefully crossing it, seeing no point in rushing it. The two allied parties were about 100 miles away from one another.

    Eventually, Princess Mpande''s Zulu warriors caught up with Queen Dingane''s troops. And the two parties squared off, without even bothering to wait for the Boers. Both sides adopted the famous Zulu Chest and Horns strategy. The chest, consisting of a group of men bearing shields, charged at one another, seeking to knock each other to the ground. As elves fell, the horn of the formation, consisting of men mopped up the fallen Zulu men and began encircling the Zulu formation. The flankers for both parties stabbed at one another, with neither gaining ground on one other. Fresh elves in the rear filled the chest, and the whole thing was repeated.

    The only non-historical thing that stood out was the female elves standing behind the Zulu horn formation, stretching their hands before the formations. The ferocity of the fighting increased with their intervention. And he could see elves that quickly fell, and got back on their feet to dodge the oncoming spears. They were probably healing them?

    Jan could only watch as the men fought hard, as his horse slowly forded the river with the other wagons.

    Hours went by, and his party trotted at a leisurely pace. Men were casually talking amongst themselves, entertaining themselves as their elf servants urged the horses on.

    At some point, Mpande''s magic-using elves placed their hands on the ground, and dirt began shooting out from the ground. As if an artillery shell landed on the ground. At that point, Dingane''s troops began deserting, running to join Mpande''s party. The Queen''s forces began deserting en masse. At some point, the Queen''s forces began withdrawing, and the Princess'' forces advanced to cut down any of the fleeing survivors.

    As Jan''s party caught up to the elves, the elves were victorious. And they didn''t even have to participate in the fight. The mood was ambivalent, and the Boers happily got to work plundering what remained of the Queen''s war camp. Cattle were the most notable of prizes, for the slavery of the new queen''s subjects would be considered, quite rude. But there was no one to enslave, for any survivors were all slaughtered by the Princess'' forces.

    So as Jan took In a breath at the slaughtered elves in front of him. He took a couple of deep breaths, noting that it was not as bad in the video games. It was a gruesome sight to see. But as he looked at the handsome elven men butchered as well, he instinctively thought, ''What a pity. He was no homosexual, but he can appreciate masculine beauty.''

    So, the men were mostly rushing about grabbing onto cattle, saying, "This is mine. I touched it. Hey, that''s mine, fuck off," in various flavours of Elfrikaans. The servants were assigned the task of herding the cattle together.

    Pretorius and the Allied elves had a meeting, and the men most noticeably relaxed as they claimed more heads of cattle. Rumours spread in the camp about what happened to the Queen. Apparently, a Boer had his servant ask the Zulu camp. And the Zulu had nothing to hide, so they told him everything.

    All of the handsome elves he saw were the husbands of the Queen. Also, her commander was strangled to death upon seeing her army deserting them. The Queen left with the most loyal of followers into Swaziland but was immediately murdered upon entry.

    Now the Zulu Kingdom was Queenless, and so the Boers celebrated their victory, especially the new heads of cattle that they could land their hands on. Servantless, he could only blankly stare at the men touching as many cattle as possible. Pretorius joined the festivities, saying that there were much more cattle to be donated from the new Queen, as per the agreement of involving the Boers in the war. The men cheered Pretorius''s name, yelling his name to the high heavens, praising God for giving them this almighty bounty.

    As Jan walked around the camp, feeling extremely alienated. For he could not comprehend the preciousness of cattle that his fellow trekkers saw in the cow. Someone decided to speak with him.

    "Jan?"

    Turning around to face the feminine speaker, he found a dark elf studying him from head to toe. Forgive Jan for his following rude remarks, but for the life of him, he could not tell the dark elf apart.

    "Umm¡­ hi?"

    "It''s Nokuthula. We met a few days ago."

    Racking his brain for the name, his brain pulled out the two elves he met the other day. Considering that they were in Zulu territory, it was probably the Zulu representative.

    "Ahh¡­ Nokuthula, nice to see you again," Jan studied the woman, who wore a tiny circle of cheetah skin across her forehead in addition to her Western wear. Looks like she kept up her attire, while the other Zulu women showed more skin. However, she wrapped her hand.

    "What can I say? I like the attire." Nokuthula caught Jan''s eyes and frowned. She touched the back of her shoulder, feeling the barrel on her back. A musket was slung behind her. It seems she was a progressive amongst her brethren.

    "How you got that gun?" Jan pointed at her firearm.

    "Oh, this? I killed a Boer and stole the gun from him. These clothes were similarly obtained from other Boers!"

    "¡­"

    "I''m just messing with you. The Neighbouring Portuguese do hawk their wares from time to time. And the Chieftess I''m representing obtained a rifle and some Western clothing and gave me them so I can fit into Western society. I''m not some uncivilized savage, am I?" That last bit was said in a harsh tone.

    "Of course not." Jan looked at his fellow Boers trying to loot as much cattle as they can off the Zulu. The warriors can only stand there uncomfortably, as the humans looted them. It put into perspective who were the true uncivilized savages.

    With nothing more to say to one another, the two bid goodbye and went off their separate ways.

    The new Queen''s Warband headed for the Zulu Kingdom''s capital for her coronation. Another group, in her place, was dispatched to fetch thousands of heads of cattle to reward the Boers for their assistance. Most notably was the confirmation of the previous agreement made by the two parties. In it, the bay of St. Lucia, an English coastal settlement, was given to the Boers, so that they could construct their very own sea harbour. This is so all of their goods could go through their very own ports instead of being subject to British laws as the British insisted. As the Brits insisted that the Trekkers who fled from Cape Colony, were very much British citizens.

    A joyful occasion it was as the men trekked back to Pietermaritzburg, with the addition of thousands of head of cattle. A proclamation was being prepared by Pretorius, as he prepared to address his people, as the Prime Minister of the Natalia Republic.

 Chapter 10: Boer Port

    Naturally, Jan didn''t get any cattle. He could have if he was more assertive, but he didn''t want to fight with others. No, the main thing was the treaty between the Zulu and the Natalia Republic. The new territory would finally provide a sea harbour where the Boers could export their goods. The only problem? Constructing a harbour?

    If this was his Old World, then Jan would have firmly said it was impossible, and just decide to attack the British at Port Natal and take their port. For a port was not easy to construct, and it will take significant capital and skilled labourers.

    The capital was simple. His father had wealth, he could probably obtain a loan or something or just onboard him as an investor. Plus, what did he spend it on, he never saw his father do much with the capital. His father didn''t even care if he did not optimize the best sell price he could get for his sugarcane by selling it to the English tradesman.

    But there was a cheat this new world brought about, magic. Magic simplified everything, and drastically reduced the requirements needed to construct a port. Sure, magic cannot conjure skilled labourers, but it can construct a great port to attract such labourers. The only problem is that humans have no innate talent for magic, and they would need assistance from the other races. With the Zulu Kingdom so close by, they were the prime candidate. And it would help their modernization efforts, although it would increase the threat level perceived by the Boers.

    Still, the only way to shake off the British yoke out of South Africa was to combine forces. The Boers can only field hundreds to thousands of men, but the Zulus could field tens of thousands of men, and use their magic.

    Pretorius was the only one that stood in his way. If he could somehow grease Pretorius into handing the responsibility to him, Jan could help begin laying the foundations. But of course, it was a catch-22, Pretorius would probably only hand it to him upon him having the Zulu support, whilst the Zulus would only support him if Pretorius handed the responsibility to him. No harm in trying.

    So, he was asking Pretorius on this day in the capital, Pietermaritzburg, the Prime Minister baulked upon hearing his proposition.

    Pretorius spoke in English, understanding Jan''s comfort behind the language, even if he insisted on speaking to him using Elfrikaans.

    "I''m surprised that you''re interested Jan. Most men weren''t too interested in the land, they were only interested in the cattle they could gather. Tell you what, if you can do it, I''ll make you a Commando in the region."

    ''Commando? Wouldn''t that mean I outrank father?''

    "Of course, that''s only if you get the Zulu on board. Or not. All in all, I would like to see a port for our fledging Republic. I do not mind the means you take. But please do not offend either the Zulus or the British in St Lucia, or even the Portuguese."

    The great leader of the trekkers drafted up a decree and handed it over. The decree was drafted in Elfrikaans, and Pretorius pointed towards the terms in the decree. ''Responsibility will only come into effect upon the Zulu Kingdom agreement,'' which meant that he could not get any random Zulu to agree to it, he must get the Zulu Kingdom to agree to it.

    "Why? We don''t need the Zulu Kingdom in it? We can get other dark elves tribes and kingdoms to help out?"

    "The proposed port will be lying right by their territory. If their interests are threatened, they can destroy us at any time. Considering the port will be used to help break away our overreliance on the British, it is no different from a Damocles Sword that can fall on our throats anytime. We must have them on our side."

    "So, you want me to help invest in your little project to get a port running? What''s in it in me?" The Veldkornet rubbed his nose, as he downed a swig of beer.

    "Most of the trade in the Republic will be diverted to the port. A little service fee will be levied. You can have them until the amount is paid back."

    "I''m not interested in things such as investing or whatnot. If I were, I would have invested in the Amsterdam Bourse and bought some stocks. The returns will be little, who knows when I''ll get my money back, maybe when I die. Just give me the right to take some of the goods that pass through if I find it interesting." Jan''s father grinned.

    ''If it becomes the hub of all Boer trade in South Africa, the diamonds and gold can very easily make back your money. But I can''t say such a thing can I?'' Jan frowned.

    So the young man handed over the decree written by Pretorius, and his father''s indignant voice could be heard.

    "What! You get to become a Commando if you get this done! Fuck, that is so unfair!" His father bashed his fist against the table and furrowed his eyebrows.

    "You can do it father if you so wish. You can go become the Commando and I shall assume your position as Veldkornet in this district."

    Jan''s father smirked, and said," I''m very comfortable with my position. At least Commando Pretorius doesn''t intervene too much in my affairs. Fine, I can give you the financial backing. If I don''t do this, what kind of a father am I? Just don''t purposely bankrupt me! I will write to the other Veldkornets to see if they''re interested."

    "Jan? Pleasure to see you." Joren greeted, as they took a seat in the inn they first ate together in Pietermaritzburg.

    "I''m sure you have heard from my father''s writings about the new venture I''m looking to put forth. I assume you''re representing your father?"

    "Indeed. I''m interested. My father does invest in some of the Trekker parties that look to trek further inland. But this is something he has no experience with, so he left it to my discretion."Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "What are some of your concerns about the project?"

    "You''ll become a commando, yes? Only if this project is successful. So, I must ask, how will you govern the new Port at St Lucia Bay."

    "That will depend on the Zulu''s terms and conditions. We''ll have to work out an agreement with them. Hopefully, things will go fine on that front. I''m seeking to turn it into a co-rulership arrangement. Like how the Romans governed, one of us will be a Commando, and one of the Zulus shall be one. Each will have veto power."

    Joren clasped his hands together and placed his elbows on the table. Resting his face against his hands, he looked towards the table for quite some time. Coming to a decision, he spoke up.

    "I''ll tell you why my family is interested. You see, all of us have several slaves that we got from the various back-and-forth raids we have with the Elfrican tribes. We want to sell them, but too bad the English had to emancipate the slaves. But in the North¡­"

    "The Ottomans and the Egyptians?"

    "Bingo. We can''t bring them to the British ports since there isn''t a merchant that would take them. Even the damn Portuguese who have done these for hundreds of years are under British Pressure. With our ports, we can ship them to the Egyptians, who will sell them to the Ottomans."

    Jan frowned because he planned to do exactly the opposite of what Joren was proposing. He wanted to lead the change in the Republic, lead the abolitionist movement, not continue it. Still, more investment money can only increase the success chance. Still, he could push back abolition at a later date. The industrial technologies brought about by the industrial revolution will only decrease the value of unskilled slaves.

    "We''re planning on working with the Zulu. I don''t know how they would feel about selling their people to a faraway land," Jan said.

    "Then we can just sell the peoples of other tribes. I''m sure they don''t mind if we smuggle some of it through¡­"

    "Cooperate with me Joren. Our relationship with the Zulu is already rocky. We are standing on their native land after all. If we start pulling things like these, the Zulus might as well burn the whole thing down, and we don''t profit."

    "I suppose I must concede that point to you. The damn English already call us cheaters, don''t want to reinforce that."

    Further investment or support would not be forthcoming without Zulu''s support. The two deals he brokered were only possible due to his and his father''s networks. The other influential peoples of the Republic want a guarantee of Zulu Kingdom cooperation. It''s not like he could enter Zululand with his arms raised demanding to see the Queen. After all, their status is completely different, the Queen can''t just meet with any random Boer that decides to waltz into there.

    He needed a way in. So, he went to Big Boss Pretorius and asked.

    "I won''t be able to help much. The relationship is frosty as it is. I do not want the new Queen to change her mind and change the deal if she saw how much we needed the port, considering we''re even willing to work with our old enemies. Mpande would be looking to consolidate her power. And if I force this through, I fear the port will not be too useful to us."

    The Boss was of no help. And he could only grumble as he left his little office. Racking his brains for any Zulus he knows of, he knows of. A very progressive Zulu came to mind. Riding back to his father''s home, he inquired if Nokuthula had left her contact details. His father calmly shrugged and sent an elf servant into Zululand to inquire on their behalf. His father armed him, with a firearm and some ammunition before sending him off his way.

    "How can you trust him so easily? You even armed him. Aren''t you scared he will shoot you in the back?"

    "Joseph and I go back a long time. He was with me when we went on the Great Trek. He helped carry my stuff and cleaned my guns. Even when we lost a few fights and scampered off, he would always be nearby waiting for me to pick him up. I trust him."

    Jan shook his head, unable to comprehend the camaraderie between his father and the elf servant. So he continued his usual routine but with some changes due to his increasing proficiency in Elfrikaans. In the morning he would shoot, in the afternoon he would ride his horse, and at the night he would continue his various studies in Dutch and World History.

    A few days later, an armed elf came by his doorstep.

    "Sawabona," He grasped her calloused hands.

    "Yebo, Sawabona," Nokuthula wrapped her fingers around his thumb, and he did likewise.

    Nokuthula explained," I have received word that a servant from your household was looking for me. So, I have arrived, guided with haste by Unkulunkulu, the supreme creator."

    Jan went into his pitch, focusing mainly on why the Zulu needed the ports. He focused on the superiority of Boer firepower, and how their guns and artillery could outmatch thousands of Zulu warriors. He pointed out how the Portuguese and British would be unwilling to sell such things to them in large quantities. But the Boers as intermediaries very much could.

    "It sounds nice of all. But wouldn''t doing so help the Zulu Kingdom? You will have a strong enemy at your border in the future. What''s your overall goal?" The woman peered into his eyes, trying to decipher his true motives.

    "We Boers seek independence. To be controlled is not in our nature. For we have trekked inland, even in this hostile environment. The British controlled all trade leaving the continent. We want to not rely on the British too much."

    "That is not your true objective, but very well, keep your secrets. I will not interfere in your plans, as long as none of them brings harm to my people. Although, I am a lowly representative I will do my best."

    ''Lowly representative, my ass. How could you get your hands on Western items if you were as lowly as you speak?'' But Jan kept those words to himself. And after some small talk, they bid farewell to one another.

    "By the way, how''s your shooting, has it improved?" She asked, looking at Jan''s rifle.

    "A bit I suppose," Jan raised his eyebrows.

    "Nnn. Just got to keep practising every day."

    Just like that, Nokuthula left to engage in the tribal politics of Zululand.

    Weeks pass by, and the men laughed less and less when he obtained his first bulls-eye at the 50 metres. And he could even converse and join into their banter, for they did not use academic Dutch, using simple everyday terms. The men were cold, thinking of him as a spoiled coddled child. But with his skills to back him up, they gradually warmed up to him. And during the nights, he continued his studies, focusing on naval ships, whilst making his foray into academic Dutch, for academic Elfrikaans did not exist.

    Pretorius sent some letters grumbling about the slowness of how things were going, but eventually, he stopped sending letters. Jan constantly wrote back apologizing but stopped once Pretorius stopped. Jan could only suppose he gave up. Which is to be expected, for there was little tying the Boers together. He could order him and apply pressure, but too much and the people will just pack their bags and trek even further inland in Elfrica.

    One day though, Nokuthula returned sighing.

    "Sawabona?" Jan proposed.

    "Yebo, Sawabona." She clasped onto his thumb, and let him clasp onto hers.

    "Some of Mpande''s daughters are interested in your proposal. Specifically, Princess Cetshwayo. She was a very vocal supporter."

    "Who cares what the princess thinks? I''m interested in what the King¡­ Oops, I mean Queen thinks."

    Nokuthula scowled and looked at him like he was an idiot.

    "Mpande is a very passive ruler. The only reason a civil war broke out was that she did not want to be assassinated by Dingane. You Boers installed her, and she has no clue how to rule. So, she listens to others'' opinions before enacting them."

    "Isn''t that genius? If anything goes wrong, can''t she blame the people who proposed such an idea in the first place?"

    She shook her head and mumbled something about country bumpkins, thinking Jan couldn''t hear it.

    "So, what does this Princess wants?"

    "She tasked me with setting up a meeting between you and her can further discuss matters. Head to the recently ceded St Lucia Bay area by the Zulu border. The Princess will come with an escort. It is expected you will bring an escort as well."

    "I thank you for this opportunity, Nokuthula."

    "No, thank you, Jan."

    And the two bid each other goodbye once again.

    Now he had to get an escort. Of course, this was very much politics. So, it would be best to bring a Boer retinue. So, he went to his father and told him everything.

    "So, you''re going to take my men just to show off to the Zulus? These men aren''t puppets. They have real lives. I will have to give them some sterlings for this, considering there will be no loot."

    "A conflict may break out, a princess is a pretty good ransom," Jan pointed out.

    "There''s good and all, but we might have to run away from Pretorius."

 Chapter 11: Negotiations

    "Fok, hoekom dwing die veldkoronet ons om hier te wees! Ek was nie lus vur die kak vandag nie." (Fuck, i don''t want to come. Why must the Veldkornet force me!)

    "Dwing? Moenie so baie stront praat nie. Hy het dan mos ''n sjieling gegee." (What force? Don''t talk so much cock. He gave a shilling.)

    "Hou net jou fokken bek. Jy weet die nuwe baas kan jou verstaan." (Shut the fuck up. You know the new boss can understand what you''re saying.) ¡°Hou die fok stil. Jy weet die nuwe baas kan verstaan ??wat jy s¨º.¡± (Shut the fuck up. You know the new boss can understand what you''re saying.)

    Assigned as a temporary Veldkornet in his father¡¯s place, his father mobilized 20 men and gave them a wagon with a cannon in the back. With them, 40 elf servants attended to their every need. Such as cleaning the firearms, scouting ahead as well as foraging for some fresh supplies with the men greedily eaten up.

    After all, every army is focused on logistics. This is where the servants come in. All the men had to focus on was fighting. But from past experience, Jan wondered how different they were from bandits and thieves. Still, every man in the wagon was tense. And he was not the only one. The men inside did not respect him due to his inexperience with leadership but are only following him due to his father¡¯s rewards. He should not count too much on their loyalty.

    ¡°Oi, baas. Ek hoor jy gaan binnekort Kommando word, so wie beplan jy_om as jou Veldkornets aan te stel?¡± (Oi, boss. I heard you''re going to become Commando soon, so who you''re planning to appoint as your Veldkornets?)

    A Boer asked with a greedy look in his eye.

    The men began arguing with one another, debating on why they deserved to be Veldkornets. Jan rolled his eyes. If he had a choice, none of them. But still, he¡¯s going to need subordinates under him to manage the outer-lying districts of the proposed port.  He shoved it out mentally, leaving it for the future.

    It seemed the Zulu thought of everything, for it was night as the wagon slowly travelled. If they intended an ambush, this was the right opportunity, but for the life of him, he could not know why they would do so. Across them was the ocean, which trapped them on this land. But one day, it will be their new roads.

    A servant carrying a lantern entered the wagon and announced that they found the other Zulu party. The men turned to him, asking with their eyes whether they should bring out the cannon, but he shook his head. Asking the servant to bring him to the Zulus, he also told his men to bring their firearms along.

    The bright moon in the sky illuminated much of the surrounding environment, but the dark skin of the elves allowed them to camouflage amidst the shrubbery.

    A Zulu shield and horns formation stood before them, and the men tightened their grasp on the firearms. They were an intimidating sight to see, especially the spears that were on the flanks, the so-called horns.

    Naturally, this called for the time to use the only Zulu words he knew.

    ¡°Sawabona!¡± He greeted, and the Zulu warriors did not even move an inch.

    ¡°Yebo, sawabona.¡± A little teenage-looking elf appeared behind the Zulu warriors, escorted by Nokuthula.

    Jan arced his back forward so he could reach for the princess¡¯ hands, while she had to tiptoe to reach his hands. He looked at Nokuthula with his eyes, wondering if it was a joke. But her very serious expression stifled him from laughing out loud. It would be a diplomatic faux pau.

    ¡°Princess Cetshwayo? I presume.¡±

    ¡°English? Good. So, I heard from Nokuthula, you¡¯re planning to construct a port and you¡¯re looking to gain the Zulu Kingdom¡¯s support. Is that correct?¡± She straightened her posture in a somewhat regal pose, but since it was done by a teenager, it looked more like a farce than anything.

    ¡°That is correct. A port is not something easy to construct. We¡¯ll need the magic of the Zulu, the ability to reshape the environment around them. The British will not be supportive of this venture and will seek to undermine it.¡±

    ¡°I am very curious. For you are so ready to sell your weaponry to us as intermediaries. What sort of weaponry were you thinking of handing over? Shoddy, outdated weapons? Then, I¡¯ll have no interest in the deal. We are not interested in your scraps.¡±

    ¡°Of course not. You¡¯re free to gain the latest ones sold to the Boers by the British.¡±

    ¡°Then are you not afraid of us turning your weapons against you.¡±

    Cetshwayo was not wrong, and Nokuthula even pointed that out. The Zulus were naturally suspicious of his intentions. Openly selling weapons to them? Were the Boers fools? Or was Jan the fool? But of course, he did prepare, but the answer would seem rude.

    ¡°The Zulu martial culture revolves around the shield and horns formation. Changing it to revolve around firearms will take decades. Plus, you¡¯ll have to fight against traditionalists in your kingdom to adopt them. The Zulus will not be quite a threat for quite some time.¡±

    ¡®Especially during the Boer wars. If we adopt guerrilla tactics against half-assed modernized Zulu Infantry, there is nothing to fear,¡¯ Jan grinned.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re so confident, I will put my worthless concerns aside. I see many benefits in this deal. So, yes, on behalf of mother, I accept it on behalf of the Zulu Kingdom.¡±

    ¡°That sounds good. But Praetorius wants the Queen to personally agree.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it, so do not worry. Nokuthula, gather the chieftesses and let¡¯s head to the capital.¡±

    Cetshwayo strode forth confidently as the retinue of Zulu soldiers followed behind her, they quickly disappeared into the surrounding environment.

    ¡®Huh. So Nokuthula is connected with a Princess? Hmm¡­ I should have expected it. It¡¯s good I didn¡¯t mistreat her or anything,¡¯.

    Jan and the Boers set up camp for the night at the insistence of the men. His father paid them a shilling per day. So, they didn¡¯t mind if Jan dragged things along. With a small personal army on his side, his options were open. If he was a warmonger, he could go and raid some nearby Elfrican tribes, but he didn¡¯t see the point.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    They headed to the town of St Lucia, a little English township. But had to deal with some of the more aggressive wildlife. Such as hippopotamuses as well as Nile Crocodiles. And since they had ammunition, they opened fire on such creatures and grabbed them to be skinned. There was a Boer with them who specialized in it and began skinning the animals. Crocodile soup and grilled hippopotamus meat were an interesting combination. The men discussed dividing the spoils, which he didn¡¯t bother taking part in. In return, they called him the best commander ever.

    He left his trusty firearm back in the wagon with the rest of the men, who scattered upon reaching the town. The servants were left holding the bits and pieces together. Jan could feel gazes upon the elf servants maintaining the wagon, before carrying on with their day. He took the time to explore the town.

    The little town had a small pier, where a few fishing boats docked. But other than that, there was nothing of interest. The only notable thing was that every inhabitant was English-speaking, befitting of its British suzerain. He headed for the town hall in the centre of the town and requested to see the mayor in charge. But it turns out the town governed itself in a little council. Jan instead requested to meet with a member of the council.

    He entered a meeting room and waited. Soon, an individual wearing a wool shirt paired with wool pants entered with a simple cap around his head.

    Stretching out his hand, he greeted,¡± Greetings. I¡¯m Tom Simon of St Lucia, a member of this town¡¯s council. How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Jan Boddewijk. Just an ordinary businessman.¡±

    Tom¡¯s face relaxed upon hearing the well-spoken English out of Jan¡¯s mouth but immediately frowned upon hearing the Dutch in his name.

    ¡°How can we help a trekker?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m planning on establishing a town in the bay area. The Natalia Republic recently acquired the territory after an agreement with the Zulu Kingdom. I¡¯m just making a social call.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for letting us know early sir, but excuse me if I may, what are your plans with such a town?¡±

    ¡°We plan on making it a trading hub between the Zulu and the Boers. If you¡¯re interested in Zulu¡¯s goods, there¡¯s your opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good, but we¡¯ll decide between seeing construction.¡±

    With the social call made, he left, with not much else to say other than make little, small talk. Now, if he told them he was constructing a port, that kind of information would be relayed to the British. Working with the Zulu? Relayed to both the Portuguese and British. It would be troublesome for the British, as they wanted to make the Boers economically dependent on them. He needed to somehow tie the interests of the proposed port with the neighbouring English town, so they wouldn¡¯t rat them out too early. But that¡¯s a matter to deal with in the future.

    With nothing much to do, he went to his father¡¯s district, handed back everything to the armoury, and continued his daily training routine.

    ¡°To start simply, I want a dirt road from here to Pietermaritzburg, maybe another to a Zulu tribe to facilitate trade. This will be improved in the future, but we will start simply.¡±

    Nokuthula jotted down Jan¡¯s words, as the two walked around the St Lucia Bay area to plan the future port.

    ¡°What about the buildings?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen our urban architecture before?¡± Jan turned to see Nokuthula nodding before continuing,¡± They combine such designs with Elven magic. Perhaps transforming trees into suitable living spaces is a good option and it can be done quickly.¡±

    ¡°What do you know about our Elven buildings? Have you ever seen a Zulu village before?¡±

    ¡®No, I just assume you got magic,¡¯ Jan blankly looked towards her, and she stopped asking.

    ¡°Also, maybe you can help form a wharf of some sort, so ships can dock on it.¡±

    ¡°These aren¡¯t very simple, Mr Boddewijk. But we¡¯ll see what we can do. Also, while the princess does not care, can we discuss the port¡¯s management?¡±

    ¡°As I¡¯ve said once, representatives from the Natalia Republic and the Zulu Kingdom will jointly rule the port. There will then be 4 main districts. 2 of them will be given to the Zulu, whilst the other 2 will be given to the Republic. Representatives can appoint anyone to manage the districts for them.¡±

    ¡°What about the naming of the port?¡±

    ¡°The Zulus can decide the name.¡±

    ¡°This all sounds great. But the construction will take a few months. In the meanwhile, how will you procure the dockworkers and a competent harbourmaster to manage the facility?¡±

    ¡°The easiest option would be to double the pay for those in Port Natal and poach them, but we can¡¯t let the British find out why half of their staff went missing. We¡¯ll poach them from Cape Colony near the ports. I¡¯m sure some Boers are working there. If they suddenly trekked off, the British won¡¯t find it too surprising.¡±

    ¡°I understand. I¡¯m sure the princess will be satisfied with your methodical plans. But for now, I recommend waiting for Queen Mpande¡¯s approval before we can begin the project.¡±

    One day, Jan received a letter.

    Dear Jan Boddewijk,

    Problems have arrived in the Zulu Royal Court. The traditionalists'' faction isn¡¯t too happy with cooperating with the Boers, whom they see as land-stealers. Especially after the Republic acquired St Lucia Bay. The Queen is unswayed from the turbulence and is content to let both supporters and opposers of the plan argue with one another without lifting a finger. Securing the Queen¡¯s approval might take even months in the best of cases, but in the worst of cases, it might not even come.

    I understand that your leader wants to secure the Zulu Kingdom¡¯s full cooperation in this project. But that is not possible, is the support of Princess Cetshwayo and the tribal chieftesses following her enough for you?

    Yours sincerely,

    Nokuthula

    Jan frowned upon reading the letter. Of course, nothing goes well. If he knew who the supposed historical future successor was, he could easily decide now. But he didn¡¯t. So, siding with Princess Cetshwayo, would mean tying his and her interests together? But he doesn¡¯t even know if she¡¯s a good white horse or not. Considering she could not even push this through, suffice to say, her influence in the Zulu Royal Court must be relatively little.

    The young man decides to offload it to Praetorius, writing him a letter. He wondered if Praetorius forgot about this whole business, but decided to put that thought aside as he drafted it. Putting it aside, he decided to hand it to his father who will summon a runner to ride off to Pietermaritzburg to hand the letter to Praetorius.

    The servant handed him a letter from Praetorius. Looks like he weren¡¯t too busy.

    Dear Jan,

    I am pleased with the progress made. I heard about the roadblocks along the way. But I hope you understand that siding with Princess Cetshwayo would mean tying our fates with hers. Nevertheless, I grant you my full support if you choose to side with her anyway. We do not necessarily need the full support of the Zulu Kingdom, but it would be nice to have it.

    Yours sinscerely,

    Andries Wilhelmus Jacobus Pretorius

    Jan wrote back to Nokuthula.

    ¡°I have gathered the best magic users to help in the construction of Port Mpande,¡± Nokuthula explained as she presented a group of Zulu men and warriors dressed in their tribal wear. Leopard skins decorated their foreheads.

    ¡°What do you think Praetorius?¡± Jan presented the Zulu entourage to Praetorius. He was flanked by a couple of Boer soldiers, who kept their guns close by.

    Praetorius patted Jan¡¯s shoulder, clasping it. ¡°I thought you gave up on the project. But it turns out you¡¯ve still been working on it. I don¡¯t know how you¡¯ve convinced Zulus to work with you. Good work. Yes, I shall appoint you as Commando of the new Port Mpande.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s one more commando, that will be appointed by the Zulus. Have the Zulus made their decision yet?¡± Jan gestured at Nokuthula, who nodded.

    ¡°Yes, Princess Cetshwayo will be appointed as a co-ruler, or in Boer terms, co-commando.¡±

    ¡°Has she decided the appointees for the districts?¡± Jan asked.

    ¡°What?¡± Praetorius took a few steps back in surprise.

    ¡°Of course, I, Chieftess Nokuthula, will be managing a district. The other position has been undecided. In your people''s terms, I¡¯ll be known as a Veldkornet.¡±

    Praetorius¡¯ jaw dropped as with the rest of the Boers.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to give one of those¡­ I mean Zulus a district? What kind of trader would step into the Port?¡± Praetorius whispered.

    ¡°Do remember that they will be doing most of the construction. We may need to provide materials like wood, concrete and steel from time to time. But they will be doing most of the heavy lifting in the early stages. The traders can trade in Boer districts if they are uncomfortable trading with the natives.¡±

    Praetorius nodded, relieved that the Zulus did not make too many absurd demands and that Jan did not give too many concessions.

    ¡°You can send the bill to my father¡¯s estate or Joren Hoenderman¡¯s estate. Specifically, send all the bills to him first. And don¡¯t let him know that.¡± Jan explained to Nokuthhula, and she grinned, thinking of skimming some money off the top.

 Chapter 12: Kingdom of Lesotho

    The trip to Cape Colony was a dangerous one. From the Natalia Republic, one must trek through the hostile Xhosa Kingdom. The Xhosa Kingdom was once a thriving kingdom in the Cape of Good Hope, but the British came and waged numerous wars with them, weakening the kingdom, and pushing them further and further eastwards.

    For while trekkers could make peace with some of the Elfrican tribes as they pass through, the Xhosa saw any who pass through as land-stealers. And with Jan''s white skin, there was little differentiating him from a British colonizer from a Boer, so he would be targeted.

    So, Trekkers heading from the Cape would only pass by the fringes of their territory, passing through Basotho land, even if the direct route through Xhosa was the fastest.

    From what he researched on the Basotho, there lived a great Queen known as Moshoeshoe. Though, in his old world, it would be he, but so be it. She was well-respected by her people and was known as a Great Queen. She was also a well-known diplomat, who developed close ties with the colonizers of South Elfrica. Rumours abound about her stockpiling of modern weaponry, so many weapon merchants flocked to offload their outdated flintlock muskets onto her. Still, a gun is a gun.

    There was no need to trek, and they could have easily got onto a ship from Port Natal and sailed to the Cape, but that would give the British too much leverage when negotiating, as they ruled the seas. So, the group decided to trek there.

    With him were three wagons, one contained Pretorius and a small retinue of his most trusted Boers, as well as the elf servants attending to their every needs, on the other, was Jan and a couple of his father''s subordinates. The last one was an empty wagon maintained by servants. The operation was simple. Pretorius would serve as the smokescreen while making a social call to the British, negotiating for the acquisition of Port Natal, which has been countlessly rejected. If the Boer leader did it again, the British will not find it too suspicious. At the same time, he would encourage Boer migration from the Cape Colonies to the new Boer Republic as he spent a few days in the Cape Colony.

    This was all fine, since the British considered the Boers to be British subjects, helping to settle new lands for the British Empire. Now then, a couple of Boer dockworkers going missing won''t be too suspicious, won''t it? The third wagon would pick up the skilled labourers, and hopefully, Jan figured, he could appoint someone to be his new Veldkornet and jumpstart Port Mpande.

    Does one even need to discuss why the port was named after the Queen? This was to quell any further dissent from Zulu traditionalists. For if you dare criticize the port, aren''t you, indirectly besmirching the Queen''s name? There will be some grumbles from the Boer people for using a name they can''t even pronounce, but all in all, these people would stop complaining once they made money without British taxes.

    Wagons carrying his fellow Boers hailed one another as they confirmed the directions of their trek. Most were heading to the Natalia Republic, whilst some were heading to Zoutpansberg due to the rumours of gold in the area. Most men laughed at the rumours, thinking they were mostly untrue, but Jan did not laugh.

    Basotho villages consisting of Basotho elves wrapped in eye-catching blankets around the waist paired with large rain boots. Females wore skirts or long dresses, but most were covered in blankets. Jan was tempted to get a blanket, for it look warm and snuggly, but he reminded himself he could not spend the funds on trivial things.

    Some were wearing Western wear, an indication of the growing Western influence. There were also missionaries speaking in French, for they greeted his group whenever they made a stop with a simple bonjour. Their churches seemed so out of place in the villages that they felt like a stain, for they did not complement the village architecture. For they were brutalists amidst the quaint village homes with their quaint little walls paired with the multi-layered cone roofs. Not all villages with churches were like that, for some were happy with a simple hut, but the atmosphere differed depending on the church.

    In some villages they stopped, the influence of French missionaries cannot be denied. Inhabitants were speaking French, casually conversing like native French speakers. The missionaries were friendly and were always so helpful, giving them tours around the little villages they stopped at. Inside their churches, printing presses were churning away Sesotho translations of the Bible. The missionary offered Jan to look through a copy, and he was amazed by the dedication these men had to their work. Still, the firearms close by these missionaries revealed how safe they thought of their environment.

    Traffic increased as continued with their trek through more mountainous regions. The capital of the newly formed Lesotho Kingdom, sat on top of a sandstone plateau, allowing any occupiers to see any incoming foes from all directions. A perfect natural fortress. Elven merchants plied their wares, selling whatever supplies the trekkers needed at exorbitant prices. Their profits can be seen from their attires of Upper-class Western wear, with their top hats, waistcoat and breeches that were so unsuited to the Elfrican climate. But they wore it anyway, showing their wealth.

    Six passes led to the plateau. And inside the mountain, there were eight springs. Refilling of water was free, but the merchants harassing them showed why the price was free. There was no denying that it was a prospering land. If he was a British 19th-century imperialist, he would write something along the lines of, "A refuge of civilization amidst the savagery".

    Rondavels were immense, the little huts that were cylinders with cones on top of them. But as they got closer to the centre, more urban buildings could be seen. Two to three-storied homes of French architecture could be seen.

    He and Pretorius got out of the wagons and took a walk around the city. The passing Boers paid no mind to Pretorius, for they didn''t know of his face, but they knew of his deeds.

    "Should we meet with Queen Moshoeshoe? I heard she is welcoming of visitors," Pretorius and Jan walked towards her compound while their companions went off to indulge in the capital''s delights.

    "I see why not. If she becomes hostile to trekkers, it might harm the Republic," Jan replied.

    "Considering all the economic activity, I find it hard to believe."

    A municipal building had travellers go in and out, handling administrative affairs. Announcing who he was, Pretorius and Jan were escorted to a simple stone house measuring 10 metres by five metres that were divided into two rooms. Guards took their firearms away and they were seated by a table. It was a house part of a larger compound with many buildings. The masonry was smooth, and one can easily see and feel that it was no rush job.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    An imposing dark elf with a serious atmosphere entered the room joined by a French missionary, who whispered miscellaneous things in her ears. She wore a top hat, and a dark vest with a green frock coat thrown on top of her sides. Her sharp eyes with a clear gaze attracted eyes away from viewers curious about her femininity.

    "It is with great pleasure of meeting with you two gentlemen. Especially with Andries Pretorius, the esteemed Prime Minister of the Natalia Republic." Queen Moshoeshoe spoke and the French missionary translated the Sotho language.

    "No, it''s my pleasure to grace with the great Queen of Lesotho. I must thank you for keeping our fellow trekkers safe during their great trek to new homelands, as well as supplying for their various needs." Pretorius replied, and the atmosphere fell silent once again. The French missionary whispered more things into the Queen''s ears.

    ''At this rate, everything will just end with a simple social call. Having the Lesotho Kingdom on their side is a must, considering the vast number of firearms they stocked up. But Moshoeshoe is crafty. And no one survives long being a fool,'' Jan thought.

    Jan leaned into Pretorius and whispered," I think we should improve ties with her kingdom."

    Pretorius whispered back," I don''t know what angle to take."

    "Me either."

    The Queen spoke up again, and the French missionary translated her words. "There are some Boers who have chosen to temporarily settle in the Matlakeng area. At first, there were few, but more came, and they have even begun colonizing the region. It will be great if Mr Andries Pretorius can help remedy it."

    Pretorius shook his head, saying," There is little I can do about an independent Boer group. The best I can do is encourage them to move along to the Natal region. Perhaps additional incentives provided by the Kingdom can move them along, such as provisions."

    "That is good. It would be a pity to prevent future trekkers from coming along the trail."

    Pretorius fumed at the threat but suppressed his anger as they left the building with the French missionary.

    "Pardon sir, may I know who you are?" Jan curiously asked, wondering how this missionary got so close to the Queen.

    "I''m Eug¨¨ne Casalis, her majesty''s Foreign Advisor. I help advise her majesty in her dealings with humans."

    "Mr Eugene Casalis, may I ask, how can the Natalia Republic develop closer ties with the Lesotho Kingdom?"

    "The kingdom is not interested in being entrapped in any Boer conflict with the British. It wishes to be left alone." Casalis bluntly spoke, staring at Jan. Jan sighed, giving further confirmation to the French missionary''s hypothesis.

    "Do not put things that way, sir. While you are here purportedly for God, are you not here to spread French interests in the region? Weakening the British hold over Elfrica are in your interests, are they? I''m sure the French government would reward a man like you greatly."

    "I''m sorry sir. But do you think the Queen would be as foolish as to put a French dog as her speaker to the outside world? I am gravely insulted by your insinuations!" Casalis stormed off.

    ''Ahh¡­ I''ve messed up,'' Jan slapped himself mentally, as he blankly stared at the missionary marching off.

    "Oi, fok weg. Jy hoor my. Ja, ek het ges¨º fokoff." (Oi, fuck off. You hear me. Yup, I said fuck off. What are you sons of bitches doing here? Get your ass out here!)

    He would have loved to say that, but unfortunately, he was an ordinary man. And especially when everyone had firearms, he didn''t want a bullet between his eyes.

    "Ek is Andries Pretorius, Eerste Minister van die Republiek Natalia. Ja, ek is dieselfde man wat wraak geneem het vir Piet Retief tydens die Slag van Bloedrivier. En deur my pogings het ek selfs koningin Dingane laat doodmaak!" (I am Andries Pretorius, Prime Minister of the Natalia Republic. Yes, I am the very same man who took revenge for Piet Retief during the Battle of Blood River. And through my efforts, I have even got Queen Dingane slain!)

    The commotion of the wagons appeared in the Matlakeng area, a land that was situated between two rivers, prime land that was suited for harvesting. Farmers in the regions paid no heed, but when a crazy man comes out shouting that he is a big shot, they start paying attention. Farmers gathered around him posing questions in Elfrikaans, and he answered them.

    Below are the questions and answers in English:

    Q: "How did Dingane die?"

    A: "She was slaughtered as she retreated into Swaziland"

    Q: "Is there much land in the Natal?"

    A: "There is plenty, and we have even acquired some in St Lucia Bay."

    Q: "What are you doing here, sir?"

    A: "I''m looking to have a chat with the local leader."

    A man came out escorted by his fellow trekkers.

    "Ek is Jan de Winnaar, plaaslike trekker-pionier. Hoe kan ek jou help, meneer Andries Pretorius?" (I am Jan de Winnaar, the local trekker pioneer. How can I help you, Mr Andries Pretorius?)

    "Koningin Moshoehoe het my opdrag gegee om u in te lig dat u verblyf onwelkom is. Sy het jou net toegelaat om tydelik te bly. Maar wat is met al hierdie konstruksies rondom ons?" (Queen Moshoehoe has tasked me with informing you that you''re staying is unwelcomed. She has only allowed you to stay temporary. But what''s with all these constructions around us?)

    "Hulle gebruik nie eers die grond nie. Ons gebruik net die grond goed." (They aren''t even using the land. We''re just putting the land to good use.)

    "Die probleem is dat ek bang is dat die koningin dalk nie meer jou teenwoordigheid kan verdra nie. Sy het gedreig om milit¨ºre optrede te neem!" (The problem is that I''m afraid the Queen might not be able to tolerate your presence any more. She has threatened to take military actions!)

    The crowd of farmers and ranchers gasped upon hearing Pretorius'' words and turned to look towards Jan de Winnaar.

    "Wat doen ons dan? Ons het soveel moeite in hierdie land gedoen. Ons het nie veel voorrade om weer te trek nie." (What do we do then? We have put so much effort into this land. We don''t have much supplies to trek again.)

    "Die koningin het voorrade aangebied vir diegene wat bereid is om te vertrek. Die Natalia Republiek is bereid om julle almal te verwelkom." (The Queen has offered supplies for those willing to leave. The Natalia Republic is willing to welcome all of you.)

    The crowd let out a sigh of relief and went back to carrying out their usual duties. Jan de Winnaar came up to Pretorius and thanked him for helping to negotiate such a deal on his behalf, for he would never be able to broker such a deal on their lonesome.

    "Aargghh! This is a diplomatic nightmare! You made out Queen Moshoeshoe into some kind of aggressive warmonger!" The missionary was close to pulling his hair out as he snarled upon hearing Pretorius recall how they got the Boer groups to pack their bags.

    "I don''t think so, she is merciful but strict. She did leave them a way out after all. Speaking of that, is the Kingdom going to provide the trekkers with the supplies? Because our assistance is off, if the Kingdom fails to provide the supplies," Jan explained.

    "Sigh¡­ Of course, the Kingdom will provide the supplies. I can assure you that the Queen will be pleased, but I don''t know how she will feel about her name being used so liberally. But onto more important matters. Voortrekkers like you gentlemen don''t do things for free, so what is your intention behind building greater relations with the Lesotho Kingdom?"

    "I didn''t want her to block the trail for other Trekkers," Pretorius explained, and turned to Jan, curious about why he was so hardworking. The other Boers didn''t care about these matters. They were simple farmers. As long as the crops grow, all were fine.

    "I have a plan and it requires the Kingdom." Jan reluctantly spoke. Seeing his reluctance, Casalis ushered the Boers into a meeting room. Jan spilt the bins.

    He told others for the first time about his plan. The plan was to unify the various entities into the giant federation known as the Federation of South Elfrica. And the overall goal was to evict the British from the Cape Colony and return them to the natives'' hands.

    "I don''t know what to say. This plan is crazy. I would usually expect to come out from a drunk man. But you don''t seem drunk," Pretorius admitted.

    "So, the Xhosa would get back all their original territories? And the Zulu?" Casalis asked, also thinking similarly to Pretorius.

    "Depending on the Boers living in the area. It might be best to live in coexistence."

    The missionary shook his head. "I''ll directly say it. It is impossible for the Kingdom to ever agree with this plan. The might of the British Empire is incontestable. Only if the Boers are on the winning side, then the Kingdom would be interested in ever joining," Casalis left with a huff, speeding out of the room.

    "Well then, shall we keep going?" Jan said as he looked at Pretorius, who wondered how possible Jan''s plans could be.

 Chapter 13: Cape Town

    In Europe, Prussia, one man had a crazy dream. In it, he unified the German states into one united Germany. And he was its chancellor. He woke up groggy from his dream, calling it absurd, and went off to take a piss in the middle of the night.

    In South America, Argentina, another man had a dream. In it, he led the charge of men in redshirts, liberating cities into the Italian Republic. Yet for some reason, Italy became a Monarchy. He woke up in cold sweat, swearing.

    In Elfrica, another had a crazy dream. In it, he unified the Elfrican entities and Boer Republics under a federation that sought to kick the British out. Like Garibaldi of his old world, he saw Boers opening the gates to fellow Boers, liberating British towns into the fold. As he woke up, also groggy from his dream, he stared out at the night sky. The night sky with all the stars glittered in its beauty, unaffected by modern streetlamps that obscured it.

    Remembering that dream, Jan remarked that it was a stupid idea and was wholly unrealistic, for why would English towns be liberated by Boers? Shouldn¡¯t it be liberated by fellow English, but why would fellow Englishmen liberate their towns? Then he remembered, for he was in the Victorian age, and it was full of crazy people, like the Fascists, Communists and the Jacobins.

    Families of all colours, whether it be white or black, or even the rare mixed trekked onwards. Whilst in another location, they may give each other a hard time. All of them were unified in opinion one thing, escaping British rule. Most notable were the Griquas, another name for the mixed trekkers. Few wanted to mess with them, for they were the best commandoes around. The mixed races were mostly conscripted to fight against the various Elfrikaan tribes. With their skills with firearms, they left in droves to settle inland. One place where these half-elves gathered was a place known as Griquatown led by a certain Adam Kok.

    A mixed group looked towards the wagon coming back, and the men kept their rifles closed. The wagon drivers hailed one another, before continuing their way, letting both sides heave a sigh of relief.

    The men were nervous, for they were entering the outskirts of the Xhosa. Over the years, much land was settled by the colonisers, and they fought back. At first with spears, but they have adapted to using firearms. They were outdated but paired with magic, and it is a frightening foe.

    Bang! The sound of gunfire echoed, as the horses neighed and began increasing their speed. The carriage man tried to slow the horses to a stop, before retreating into the wagon, where the men all huddled underneath the seats. Holes entered into the white canvas of the wagon as bullets pass through them. The sounds of groans echoed as men were struck.

    ¡°How many servants have left to forage and scout ahead?¡± Praetorius demanded as he looked towards the cowering elf servants, huddling. It seemed a full volley was carried out, so Praetorius raised his head to peek through some of the holes in the wagon, observing their surroundings.

    A hill overlooked them, and numerous rocks and tall grass likely hid their attackers. The smoke from the fired guns cannot be seen, so the seasoned trekker concluded.

    ¡°They have a mage with them!¡± The man bellowed, grabbing his firearm. He peeked out of the carriage, and angled his gun, observing his surroundings. He kept track of the seconds that passed.

    When the countdown of around 15 seconds took place, he cowered and waited for the enemy to retaliate. Hearing no gunshots, he continued counting and stopped at 30 seconds when another volley came through. After 5 seconds, he peeked his head, and yet again, he saw no smoke.

    ¡°The mage must be blowing the smoke away!¡± The leader reported, and with a wave, he got the man out of the wagon, where they took the time to find cover. Whether it was beneath a rock, under a tree, or behind a wagon, they took positions and scanned a 360 view of their environment. Their servants cowered in the wagons, unarmed and unable to contribute to the fight.

    Jan tensed up and his heart rate increased. It was going to be his first gunfight, and he could not even find the enemy. It would be ok if the enemy were wielding spears and shields like the Zulu, he could anticipate their attacks because they will be visible. But an invisible enemy was tough.

    Another volley was shot down, and as Jan lay on the ground, a shot created an indent right by his left hand. As soon as the volley was done, Praetorius bellowed, and the men began ascending the hill within a short period and hid underneath their cover as another volley rained down.

    The inexperienced Voortrekker felt so afraid as he didn¡¯t want to be shot. He looked at his fellow servants who cowered with him and joined them.

    One man caught up with an elf decked out in similar trekker clothing as they were reloading their firearm. At point-blank range, the Voortrekker opened fire and blew a hole in his chest before the elf could reach for their spear. The elf was likely inexperienced.

    Strangely unnatural events began happening, rocks began rolling down the hill, forcing men to dive out of their cover, just as an elven volley opened, forcing them to eat lead.

    Mini traps caused men to be swallowed into the ground. Their feet were stuck in the ground, making them exposed. Volleys took them down.

    When the men were finally near the top of the hill, Praetorius pointed and bellowed, ¡°Charge!¡± And he rushed forward with his musket, with a group of Boers and overwhelmed the elves?

    The hilltop was empty, but the men could see black dots in the distance, rushing away from them. They seemed like they were skating along the ground, for the way their feet and the ground interacted was wholly unnatural. The men took potshots and the escaping elves, but by then, they have escaped the range of their firearms.

    The trip continued, as the servants patched up their masters. The ones who couldn¡¯t be saved were buried, graves were dug up by servants, and Praetorius uttered a prayer for every man. One thing every man was sure of as they pleaded to the god, was that they never wanted to meet another Xhosa attack again.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Jan, what the hell was that?¡± Praetorius growled as he pulled the man to the side. One look into his eyes showed immense restrained fury.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Men were out there dying to keep you safe. Why are you holding that firearm since you¡¯re not going to use it? What makes you different from the servants who cowered underneath the gunfire?¡±

    ¡°¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing to say. I see. But I do not want any such performance from a soon-to-be Commando. You may be a good dealmaker, but every Commando must protect their people. I will not respect cowardice, and will even strip you of your position, regardless of what your father says.¡±

    That was a lie. As he could not strip Jan of his position, due to the decentralized nature of government, but the young man kept silent, as the difference in position made it intimidating.

    ¡°¡­¡±

    Praetorius stormed off without even looking back at the coward.

    Of course, influencing Praetorius was not going to be easy. The man respected men who were like him, so naturally, the instincts Jan had from birth due to his old world had to be removed. The Modern World provided many comforts, never had he felt the thirst to kill another person, nor had he had to fight to defend himself. So he naturally froze up in a combat situation. It didn¡¯t matter if he trained with the firearm if he can¡¯t use it.

    Jan and Praetorius didn¡¯t communicate any further after that incident at the Xhosa border, but they pretended things were fine, so the men acted as normal, knowing things weren¡¯t fine.

    As they headed for Cape Town, the sight of homesteaders was all too common. They were mostly farmers living off subsistence farming, but they had some skills to defend themselves, for, at the border with the Xhosa, conflicts between the two were common. They stopped at a small town, more specifically, a little outpost where a small church resided.

    Considering Jan felt a little lost, he headed inside the church and made his prayers.

    Dodo, dodo. Some nice elevator music was playing as he waited.

    ¡°Hello sir, this is Angel Henry. How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking to learn how to defend myself.¡±

    ¡°From the files, I can see about you... Click, click, scroll, scroll¡­ Sir, you have some experience in firearms. You can defend yourself, sir? Unless you are talking about identity theft, in which I recommend setting up your 2-factor authentication.¡±

    ¡°Why is there such as 2-factor authentication? What is this nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Click, click¡­ Ahh, sir. I see you have little to no combat experience. Although you can shoot a little, you¡¯re unable to put it to use. That is why I recommend the sport of hunting in Elfrica.¡±

    ¡°Hunting?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a way to get you to train against moving targets. As well as targets that can harm you. It will help train your nerves so that you can steel them in a real combat situation. If you are satisfied with this feedback, press 1. If you are not satisfied with this feedback, press 2. If you want to¡­¡±

    ¡°One.¡±

    ¡°Thank you very much, sir, have a nice day! Dodo, do, do. Dodo, dodo do.¡±

    Jan swore that the church must be a scam and it wasn¡¯t some god running it, but some Alien Tech Support centre. But to these people in the Victorian age, he could see how they seem holy.

    Still, hunting in the Victorian age. He was in Elfrica, his old world¡¯s version of Africa. So what kind of wildlife can he work with?

    There¡¯s the zebra, the rhino, the buffalo, the lion and the leopard. In short, there are many. But fewer would maul him. So, he decided to start with a herbivore.

    He headed back to the wagons and heard that some men were looking to put together a hunting expedition.

    ¡°I¡¯m interested,¡± He announced, and the men stared blankly at him. Seeing that he was interested, they shrugged.

    ¡°Sure, why not. But you¡¯re expected to down your prey,¡± A man explained, before conversing with the rest. Relations between him and the men weren¡¯t always the best. He was deadweight and contributed little to the party. At least the servants helped with the various chores, but Jan sat around and ate their supplies like a spoiled aristocrat. Little could wonder why he didn¡¯t have respect.

    A few hours later, they set off for his first hunting expedition.

    The men were crouching in the grass as they stalked the antelope slowly walking about. A nearby wind brought the foreign scent to its nose, and it looked at the exposed humans. It started bolting.

    ¡°Vuur!¡±(Fire!)

    Shots were fired as the men gave chase. They threw their firearm away to their servants who threw another loaded firearm into their arms.

    The antelope was running quicker and quicker out of range, trampling all of the tall savannah grass beneath its hooves.

    In the direction that the antelope was running to, the other men hid amongst the grass, their firearms pointing at the antelope. 300 metres.

    Jan fidgeted with his firearm, his fingers tensing. He briefly imagined what it was like to be pierced by the large antlers of the antelope.

    200 metres. Men on the other side were shouting at their servants, cursing them for letting the antelope find them.

    100 metres. Firing range. The antelope was running in a straight line towards his direction. It was a relatively easy shot. All he had to do was do what he did at the shooting range.

    Pulling the trigger, he aimed it right between the creature¡¯s eyes, letting loose smoke from his firearm.

    Bang! He held onto the gun as it pushed him back. The antelope raised its hindlegs, startled by the explosion, and the bullet merely grazed its legs. Jan cursed.

    The other men fired a volley into the creature and downed it. The creature collapsed onto the ground as it cried with agony, as numerous wounds opened up in it.

    ¡°Dit is vervelig. Net een skepsel. Watter idioot het dit voorgestel!¡± (This is boring. Only one creature. Which idiot suggested this!)

    ¡°Ja, wat van ''n hele trop sebras.¡± (Yeah, what about a whole herd of zebras.)

    The men trekked about, but they could not find a zebra herd nearby. So, they turned in for the day.

    Cape Town was the capital of Cape Colony, now controlled by the British. First colonised by the VOC or Dutch East India Company, it was meant to be a place where ships can be resupplied amidst their travel between Europe and Asia. Due to the Napoleonic wars, Britain temporarily occupied the Cape. And by the end of the wars, they now owned the Cape.

    However, Cape Town was in the far west, and for their plans, they do not need to be in the far west. The nearest port was Port Elizabeth. And it stood as an outpost against the Xhosa people in the East.

    Its beaches were beautiful, and ships unloaded both goods and people. All sorts of languages were spoken. French from the descendants of the Protestant Huguenots that left France. German for the various descendants of the Germans working for the Dutch East India Company. Dutch from the original settlers. And most of all, English between the various ruling elite. The influences from all of them formed the language of Afrikaans, or in this world, Elfrikaans.

    Stefaan Stuut sighed, as he hefted cargo from the ship. Sold by the various men claiming that a bright future awaited in Africa, he sold all his possessions in the Netherlands and came to the Cape Colony. With his knowledge of Dutch, he figured he would still be comfortable speaking the strange ¡®Elfrikaans¡¯ in this place. There will be land, and he could farm without a care in the world.

    Except, he needed a wagon, and supplies to make the trek to Port Natal. Elfrican wood was hard and sturdy, making good wagons. But wagons also needed to be filled with supplies. And he also needed people, and companions to come along with him on this journey to keep him safe. Let¡¯s not even mention the elf slaves¡­ he meant servants!

    Stefaan looked at the dark elf before him, hefting the same cargo. That individual was muscular and seemed to be a perfect servant helping him with his future trip. Problem is, he needed money. And where could an unskilled man with big dreams get money? Of course, through manual labour. He did ask around for trekkers looking for people, but they all rejected him. He was only a mere farmer, everyone here was a mere farmer, they were looking for people who could contribute. So he grumbled, stacking the box onto the previous worker¡¯s box.

    English soldiers made their rounds, checking goods. But they didn¡¯t put much thought into it, a mere scan, and they sent it along the way. Stefaan grinned as they walked away, and he took the time to sit on the box and rest for a moment, catching his breath. It was the first time seeing men from the Orient. Indians and the Chinese were the providers of all so exotic goods that made the Netherlands rich. Here they were lifting cargo left and right, no different from him, a poor Dutchman. And here he thought they were extremely wealthy people, it turned out they were no different from him!

 Chapter 14: The Ethiopian

    Stefaan did as he usually did after work, he headed right for the bar and grabbed a mug of cheap ale. Going around to each table, he stayed and listened to their conversations before leaving. He looked out for those discussing organizing a trek. Most were rather satisfied with their lives and would rather not brave the trek to new lands, where they have to fight against savage elves. It was a hard task networking.

    With no leads, he was about to leave before a group of weary trekkers entered. They had guns on them, and they weren''t wearing English uniforms. Scanning their surroundings, they took a seat at the nearest tables and chatted about their hunt.

    The dockworker got close, curious about their conversation.

    "Sebravleis is regtig heerlik!" (Zebra meat is declicious!")

    "Ek weet reg." (I know right.)

    Their words only confirmed his assumptions. He straightened his posture and joined them at the table. All eyes were on him as he sat on a seat. A nearby trekker grunted, as his seat was taken by the newcomer.

    "Groete here, ek neem aan julle is gewaardeerde trekkers." (Greetings gentlemen, I assume you are esteemed trekkers.)

    The reception was cold and no one answered, frowning upon his words.

    "Ek is op soek na Natal toe. Is julle here ook op pad daarheen?" (I''m looking to trek to Natal. Are you gentlemen heading there as well?)

    "Ja, ons soek spesifiek dokwerkers met ''n bietjie ervaring wat in Port Elizabeth werk." (Yes, we''re looking specifically for dockworkers with some experience working in Port Elizabeth.)

    A young man spoke up. His skin is pale and he looked more like a scholar than a trekker. Still, with the gun strapped around his shoulder, how could Stefaan say otherwise?

    "Hoekom het julle nie so ges¨º nie? Ek is ''n dokwerker, soek jy mans om in Port Natal te werk?" (Why didn''t you say so gentlemen? I''m a dockworker, are you looking for men to work in Port Natal?)

    "Nee, dit sal by die nuwe hawe Mpande wees." (No, it will be at the new Port Mpande.)

    ''What the hell is that?'' Stefaan first thought to himself as he slowly processed these words. First of all, who is Mpande? Secondly, perhaps the man in front of him has gone crazy like Don Quixote. Still, there were things important to Stefaan, and that was¡­

    "En ek sal my eie lande kan vestig, reg?" (And I''ll be able to settle my lands right?)

    "Natuurlik, as jy dit kan beveilig. Jy sal gereedskap kry om met die taak te help. Maar daar sal van jou verwag word om hierdie lande saam met ander te verdedig wanneer die behoefte ontstaan." (Of course, if you can secure it. You''ll be given tools to help with the task. But you''ll be expected to defend these lands with others when the need arises.)

    Most of these men who joined their little trekker group were hopefuls where their dreams were burnt. Before they could even settle new lands, they need wagons to traverse the lands. The funds were enormous, and few wanted to fund such adventurers as investors would receive no return. These men are running away to untouchable lands where debt collectors will have difficulty reaching, how can they guarantee any returns?

    Jan took in the conversations around him and had an idea about increasing immigration. Investors were not willing to fund trekker groups to settle farmlands. But if the Natalia Republic could sign an agreement with a couple of companies to allow them to carry out their duties, immigration will likely increase. But the issue would be getting the other Commandos in the Republic to agree to such measures, considering some of the men under them did scam their money through their treks. He slotted it away somewhere in his mind.

    Word began spreading about a relatively experienced trekker group taking dockworkers along. No questions asked, the men were heading to new lands ruled by a relatively new Commando. Whoever settled the new lands get to claim them first.

    Banks were plenty in the region. Financing purchases of goods and the transfer of money between merchants. Some funded the trek. It was a profitable venture in theory. Claim new lands, and get a cut of the crops grown on these lands for basically infinity. The interests were absurd. Absurd interests make people stop paying eventually though. Investing in these ventures was like investing in high-yield bonds. The returns are high, but there''s a reason why the returns are so high.

    And here Jan was meeting with the local manager. Everything about the man before him spoke Old Money. They were likely people who profited off the old Dutch East India Company and transitioned over to serve their new masters, the British. And in so, spoke English as well as an Englishman, losing all that made them Dutch.

    "The only reason I''m meeting you today is that you said that you had something that could alleviate the risk of the trek."

    If Praetorius was here, the banker wouldn''t be so hostile. Too bad he had to go even more West to meet with the governor of the Cape Colony. He saw the young man before him as no different from an ignorant farmer, so the banker casually sipped on a glass of wine before talking about other nonsensical matters.

    "The Cape''s wine is good," The banker mumbled.

    "I have a plan on reducing Xhosa or completely removing Xhosa threats in the trek."

    "Anything else?" The banker waved his hands, shaking his head as if he heard some ridiculous words.

    "How about getting men to pay up what is owed?"

    "Now, I''m interested," The banker set his glass on the table and clasped his hands together, putting his elbows on the table. He said, "Please continue," and looked into the man''s eyes.

    "I''m going to be a new Commando soon, I''m sure the Cape of Good Hope bank would be interested in extending its influence over the Natalia Republic. You can do it in my territory by St Lucia Bay. If you''re worried, it''s near the English town of St Lucia."This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    "Colony. It''s unrecognised. And last I heard of it, there was barely any government there. Everything is based on the opinion of the mob. And everyone is armed."

    "Then in such a lawless place, I''m sure you wouldn''t mind having someone on the bank''s side."

    The banker grinned smelling an opportunity.

    "If you''re willing to work on my behalf, that is good. But how much do you want? Abd what are these funds meant to be? Protection money?"

    "No, no. Think of it as a service fee. The bank is free to collect its debts in the region, but I will not intervene on anyone''s behalf. I''m sure there are many debts left uncollected."

    "It''s an interesting proposition. But you''re a no-name Commando. Unless you''re someone like Praetorius, I''ll be interested."

    If any other Boer heard the conversation between the two, Jan was sure he would be lynched on the spot. He was selling men for money, no different from slavery. But he didn''t see anything wrong with it. These Boers also practice slavery, guess they will learn the meaning of indentured slavery. These trekkers who run from debts are not good citizens to have anyway. In the face of adversity, they will pack their bags and run, and might as have to face the consequences of their actions. But still, he was no Praetorius, so it seems he was blocked from proceeding in this front.

    Before they left ferrying dockworkers, Jan had convened with other trekker groups so they could set off all at the same time. A large wagon group makes the Xhosa unlikely to attack. Sure, they will spit off halfway through the trek. Some Griquas will be heading to Griquatown, some men will be heading to the potential gold mines in Zoutpansberg but most will be heading to the Natal. Safety in numbers.

    The trekker leaders were all arguing among themselves, calling out purported moral slights in one another. The rest were boasting about the number of servants they got. About how much they enslaved. Any trekker will tell you it will be hard to enslave many this near the Cape. It was more likely they hired them from the nearby Elfrican tribes. The inexperienced, ignorant men below them still praised their trek leader to the sky.

    How these men could even get together was in question, but people can be ultimately pragmatic when the time calls.

    It was more of a marketing conference, as the trekker leaders got up and said about the vast amount of land they could give to the people. Such yields could only be obtained with high-risk treks deep into the Elfrican interior, but they will never say it out loud. Plus, the land will be divided by a smaller number of people since the rest will die off from attrition like Malaria.

    "Ek is onlangs deur Praetorius as Kommando aangestel. En ek soek mans om die nuwe distrikte in St Luciabaai te vestig, verkieslik mans met ondervinding by die see." (I was recently appointed Commando by Praetorius. And I''m looking for men to settle the new districts in St Lucia Bay, preferably men with experience by the sea.)

    Jan said these words and went back to join the men who bothered to accompany him to this ego-boosting meeting. Names are powerful, when he uttered Praetorius, all eyes laid on him. The legendary trekker commander fought off hordes of Elfrican tribes so the Boers could have a place where they were independent of the British. A few men went over and asked the few men by Jan''s side about the veracity of his words. Sheepishly they could only confirm it.

    Incredulously, the men looked over at the young man with a scholar''s physique and their mouths hung right open.

    The haul of workers was decent. The servants had to work harder, and they could not complain, for they had no firearms of their own. Speaking of workers, he remembered a very specific good that workers used to relax from their stressful day jobs. It was a special good that kicked off numerous wars in China. Opium. Now he didn''t want to get Boers intoxicated on Opium, but exporting Opium could prove profitable. No doubt if the Opium wars go as they did in history, then the British would obtain a treaty port in Hong Kong. And since the Natalia Republic is unrecognized and Boers are seen as British subjects, they could make a killing growing Opium.

    Many things needed work as soon as he got back to Port Mpande. He needed to check on the progress of the elves. Then he had to plan out the various administrative and economical affairs. There was too much to do.

    The Kingdom of Lesotho, where Praetorius and Jan stopped briefly during the trek. Two men were negotiating.

    "Eugene Casalis, a pleasure to meet you again."

    "Jan Boddewijk, how are negotiations on Port Natal?"

    "It''s good to see that you''re considerate of us," Jan said.

    "What can I do for you today? If it is accommodations, I cannot do much. Your trekker group should have been well prepared before the trek after all."

    "I''m looking to call in a favour for the task we accomplished. The Great Queen Moshoeshoe is known for being a great diplomat. I would like to open negotiations with the Xhosa Kingdom."

    "Which one? There are many kingdoms among the Xhosa. The most notable would be AmaXhosa led by Queen Hintsa, but her kingdom perished amidst conflict with the Cape," Casalis remarked.

    "Her death¡­ was rather gruesome."

    "Dismembered by various British forces. I can buy an ear off the market as a trinket. It helped relations between the two," Casalis sarcastically remarked.

    "I can set up a meeting between the two, Give or take a couple of weeks and I''ll send a French missionary as a messenger."

    The Xhosa people were not united. They were splintered into differing tribes. Most dominant was the AmaXhosa, who subjugated the tribes around them, and became known as the Xhosa Kingdom. With the death of Hintsa, her daughter was left to pick up the pieces of reuniting the kingdom amidst factionalism. Unifying the Xhosa would help stop the random raids on trekkers, increasing immigration. A couple of guns to help them consolidate their rule would not be too bad. Their biggest threat was the British so as the old adage goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

    But that''s on the backlog.

    The Great Trek took a couple of months, and it was tough. Back and forth it went on rugged terrain. Progress has been made on the homefront.

    Port Mpande was coming along smoothly. A beautiful dirt road stretched from Pietermaritzburg to Port city. And in one district, Zulu huts could be seen. Elves were running about the place shifting supplies while mages were reshaping the environment to build various structures.

    Some construction could be seen on the Boer side. Simple cottage homes dotted the outskirts as two to three-storied buildings were erected by the port. Dirt roads were also used. A great pier jutted out from the border of land and sea, constructed on wood. Stress tests were conducted as elves jumped about on it, ensuring its sturdy.

    The recently promoted Zulu Chieftess or Veldkornet Nokuthula greeted Jan.

    "Yebo," She stretched out her hand.

    "Yebo, sawabona," Jan clasped his hands around her thumb.

    "Progress has been well. I hope they are to your satisfaction, Commando."

    "Thank you for your hard work, Veldkornet."

    She giggled and Jan felt awkward. It was strange, Zulus used Boer Military rankings to address one another.

    After letting Nokuthula have her laugh, Jan asked, "I don''t see any ships?"

    "Shouldn''t that be accomplished by the Boers? We have little relations with Western merchants."

    It looks like a letter or two was needed to the various Commandoes and Veldkornets in the Republic to inform them of the new port.

    "From what I can understand, I heard you''ll be selling other Elfrican tribes to the Egyptians and the Ottomans?" Nokuthula asked.

    "Correct. Port Mpande will be the main hub of all trade in the Republic. And since slavery is not outlawed. It is legal."

    "Why?"

    "What do you mean why?"

    "The British freed all their slaves. Why can''t you do it?"

    ''We''re going to need a huge surplus of the population that begins resenting the use of slaves by the landowners. We need an industrial revolution,'' Jan thought and shrugged.

    "I''m not the one that decides around here. Praetorius is the ultimate authority on this matter."

    "Jan." A familiar young man''s voice greeted. It was the voice of the man who introduced him to this new world.

    "Joren," Jan turned around and greeted the smiling Joren.

    "The progress of the port is going well! I''m glad to see that. I''ve pre-emptively made some contacts in Abyssinia, and a man should be coming by today.

    A ship docked by the pier, and the group turned to see a black man climbing down a plank with other black men following behind him.

    "Alemayehu Seife Petros, at your pleasure. I heard you have some merchandise that would be of interest."

    Jan''s mouth dropped. This was a land known as Elfrica, but there is a black man before him! What is wrong with world history?

    Alemayehu smirked, and said," What? Thought that everyone on this continent is an elf?"

    He hurriedly shook his head, wiping his expression.

    The Ethiopian offered Jan his wrist, and Jan awkwardly stretched his hand out, unsure of what to grab.

    "My apologies. I fear my hands might be a little dirty, I was ruffling through old dusty books. You can shake my wrist instead."

    Jan grabbed his wrist, and they shook on it.

    Clasping his hands together, Alemayehu exclaimed," Let''s get down to business."

 Chapter 15: Guns

    Negotiations were taking place in a two-story building overlooking the sea. Tea brought in from India by the merchant was served on the table, and the men sipped on the exquisite flavour.

    "Mpande Port will be a free trade zone. There will be no tariffs on taxes on all goods passing through. All I request is a simple fixed service fee for all merchant''s vessels," Jan placed the teacup down and explained.

    "You do have a good foundation. But you lack workers and the infrastructure for the maintenance of ships. I can provide these, but all the supposed maintenance fees will have to go to me."

    Jan frowned.

    "That is not possible. You can set up an outpost here, and have your ships repaired. Likewise, other merchants will set up their outposts here. I doubt other merchants will let a rival merchant inspect their ships."

    "Let me state what I''ll offer you. My ships go as far as India, Egypt and even Singapore. This is where Boer goods will be heading. What can the other merchants offer you? The fact that you sell slaves makes other merchants apprehensive about dealing with you. One British inspection and all the goods will be taken away. Can''t you see the amount of risk I take?"

    "Most of the slaves will be heading to the Ottomans and Egypt. I doubt the British will conduct inspections on that route. So, please do not mention such nonsense," Joren pointed out, dissatisfied with the Ethiopian''s remarks.

    Jan took some time to think, before opening his mouth with a counteroffer. "You can set up an outpost here to repair your ships. You can even charge merchants to repair your ships using your outpost. However, instead, a service fee will still be collected."

    "If that is your wish. However, allow me to have some land so I can have a beachfront property."

    "Very well."

    The two men shook on it.

    "Any other surprises, Joren?" Jan asked as their entourage left the building.

    "Not much, the rest of the affairs will be handled by you. As long you as keep to your word of keeping the port a free-trade zone, goods will come. So please get administrative affairs in order," Joren bid him goodbye and left.

    Nokuthula and Jan were left standing, so he turned to meet the Zulu Chieftess and asked, "How are affairs in the Zulu Kingdom? Are there any concerns that I should know?"

    "The Princess is wondering when firearms will be sold. I hope our dear Commando has been thinking of settling the matter quickly, as her patience is wearing thin."

    ''Isn''t this a threat?'' Jan stoically looked to the side.

    "What do you plan on using the firearms for? You should know why the British and Portuguese and hesitant to sell to the elves. Even if we had an agreement, I am also hesitant about handing over firearms."

    "It is none of your concern." Nokuthula coldly replied.

    It looks like he''ll have to further investigate Zulu affairs, perhaps contact with another princess would help.

    Jan made contacts with the local gunsmith artisans in Pietermaritzburg and used the money of the Boer investors into purchasing enough arms to equip a corporalship. He presented it to the Nokuthula, who examined the firearms in great detail.

    "Specialty Boer firearms. Present these to the princess and see if they''re to her liking."

    Nokuthula called out to some Zulus who hauled the firearms to the side, before continuing their conversation.

    "What is it?"

    "What do you mean?" Jan asked.

    "What do you want to talk about?"

    "I was wondering if I could open diplomatic channels with other Zulu Princesses."

    "Is what is Princess Cetshwayo providing not good enough for you?" Nokuthula pointed to the Zulu men herding overheads over cattle and baskets of millet.

    "A simple farmer will be satisfied, but you should know I''m no simple farmer."

    "It doesn''t matter which Princess you communicate with; they all provide you with the same things. All we have are cattle and millet."

    "Which brings into mind this question, why was Princess Cetshwayo so readily to open contact with the Boers?"

    "The Princess is an open-minded individual. Unlike some land-stealers¡­" Nokuthula carefully observed Jan''s expression which expressed little emotion.

    "Tell me the truth. Does she have any struggles back home? Or she''s not the white horse, is she?"

    Nokuthula frowned, "What do you mean?"

    "She''s not the crown princess. So, who''s the crown princess?"

    "¡­"

    "None of your business."

    The movement to the Port increased, Boer money was flowing, and construction was widespread. Sugar mills and workshops were being shifted to the port side. And various trading companies were establishing themselves by buying some small plots of land to build warehouses. He had to spend time mostly checking papers and permits, making him determined to set up a bureaucracy to help handle all of these small administrative affairs. Especially with Pretorius'' seal of approval on the port, Jan''s influence amongst the Boers was going to increase. Still, Praetorius'' admonishment during that battle had him rattled. The Elves had magic, they were supernatural enemies. They could not be trusted. If he supplied the Zulus with too many arms, they were going to attack him if they were confident enough. With his port right on the border, he''ll be instantly taken out. Eventually, the Boers will win with British support, but he would suffer too much damage. He could also start fortifying his position, but that might escalate tensions with the Zulu, forcing them to attack now before the fortifications were complete.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    He thought all of these as he looked towards Nokuthula at the other end of the meeting table. They were here to discuss the bureaucratic administration. Due to the Zulus administrating their districts, they had little business coming their way, so all the administrative burdens were dumped on him.

    "Isn''t it obvious? The bureaucrats should be hereditary. The various Zulu chieftess and their daughters should manage these affairs." The Zulu said it so confidently that Jan didn''t know what to say. He wanted to refute it, but he didn''t know where to begin. Taking some time to think, he replied.

    "That sounds good. But their certain affairs that chieftains are unable to handle. For example, trade. Would you say that you can trade better than a merchant?"

    "Of course not."

    "That''s why these affairs shouldn''t be handled by chieftains. That''s what bureaucrats should handle, and that''s why they should do it. And that''s why bureaucrats should be appointed. Plus, I do not want the power to coalesce within a ruling elite that will be hard to dislodge."

    "Very well, you seem to know what you are doing."

    Jan shuffled papers, bringing another sheet that stated ''Education''.

    "Let''s discuss education. And no, we''re not going to educate people on how to be part of a Zulu Impi."

    Nokuthula shook her head, saying," What''s wrong? Children as young as six can join as porters and learn from the older warriors."

    "I don''t need more Zulu warriors. I want people who are educated."

    "Educated in what? Are you going to teach other people the Zulu Language, or force everyone to use Elfrikaans?"

    This is problematic. Such matters cause much strife. And it''s not like Boers were hegemonically Dutch, there were French and German speakers. Jan began tapping the table.

    "Let''s use the Zulu Language then?" Nokuthula grinned.

    It was not a bad idea if he wanted to see his head on a pike. Bilingualism would be a good compromise, but he already knew how hard it was to learn two languages. He learned Elfrikaans out of desperation, but can he force others to learn the language?

    "Zulu, I''ll count down from 3."

    It will be very nice if he standardized the use of English. Technically the Natalia Republic was a protectorate of the United Kingdom. But considering what the Boers think of it, his head will be on a pike!

    "2."

    There was no good decision. Someone''s toes were to be stepped. And if he was going to please someone, he would rather please the bloc of his main supporters.

    "1."

    "I have decided. Schools will teach mainly in the use of Elfrikaans," Jan decided.

    "I oppose that decision," Nokuthula said.

    "Why?"

    "Why should my people be educated in the language of your people?"

    ''Fuck. Optional Bilingualism is it.'' Jan thought.

    "Here is a compromise. Schools can be set up by any party with approval by the Commandoes. Whatever language it teaches is up to the school''s choice. However, all schools must offer either Zulu or Elfrikaans as an optional language class."

    "So my people are forced to learn Elfrikaans either way?"

    "They have the choice to do so. But I don''t think it should be enforced."

    "I can accept that."

    Before Jan could return to an agreement, he paused and sunk back into his thoughts. Considering how Boer capital will come, people who only know how to speak Zulu will be disadvantaged in finding work. They will naturally make less than Elfrikaans speakers, giving them less political influence. This will be rectified in a generation or two as Zulu parents will switch their children to learning Elfrikaans. But that economic headstart will be a problem in the future.

    He banged his fist against the table in frustration, and Nokuthula shifted back, surprised by his sudden gesture.

    "There''s no right move in this scenario. The best move would be to anger, everyone."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Everyone should learn English, the commercial language of this world. All other languages will be offered as optional classes that any student can take."

    "Do you think I will go along with that?" Nokthula frowned.

    "As a progressive, you must understand that the British Empire is the leading Great Power in this world. Trade is mostly conducted in English. As far as I see it, it will be an equal playing field. Most Boers here do not know English. So, both Zulus and Boers have to both struggle."

    "¡­"

    "You see, while the Republic is ultimately unrecognized, we are technically British subjects. I''m sure we can obtain resources from various British missionaries to help with the effort."

    "Are you planning on converting my people? I cannot accept that."

    "Any who step out of line will be deported. We will not force any unwanted books on the Zulu. And the Anglican faith is incompatible to the faith of Boers."

    Nokuthula sighed.

    "This is stupidly complicated. I suppose I will go with your plans. And if my people are unsatisfied with your system. They could just head to Zulu schools. After all, not only English schools have to exist."

    Jan sighed.

    "I suppose this is for the best."

    ''Any harsher and people would think I''m committing cultural genocide.'' Jan thought.

    The trekker opened contact with missionaries nearby in St Lucia as well as Port Natal and requested their assistance in educating the population in English. He added one stipulation, ''no bible''. Almost no replies were received, and the few angry replies were dumped into the trash. Secular education was not in vogue in this era.

    One missionary replied though, but they insisted on bringing bibles. He wrote back, "Okay, but you can''t teach that in the school. Setup a Church here instead."

    A few weeks later, an Anglican Church was set up. And schools were built around it. Looks like the missionary had the last laugh.

    Few Boers looked at the new attraction and continued with their daily farming as the staff spoke in incomprehensible language.

    Men who came to Port Mpande that could read or write were quickly dumped into these schools and forced to learn English before they could become bureaucrats. Nokuthula was hostile, but still cooperated and sent some Zulus into the schools. These workers formed the basic administration, and thus, the administration was handled using the language of English.

    However, Zulu schools were set up in opposition to the English schools. And rich Boers set up their schools teaching their youth Elfrikaans. Jan could sigh as he watched the developments. He couldn''t force a language only because Nokuthula would block it. But now three languages were fighting to become the dominant language in the Port. The Boers would flock to either English or Elfrikaans, while Zulus flock to Zulu schools. One way or another, segregation was taking place. But what could Jan do, people would stick with people that looked like them. It was natural.

    A French missionary met up with him one day.

    "Bonjour," Jan called up, and the missionary nodded in acknowledgement of his words. The missionary handed over a letter, and he read it.

    Dear Jan,

    The Xhosa Kingdom are willing to negotiate with the Boers. Please meet up in the capital of Lesotho on the 10th of October 1840.

    Yours sincerely,

    Casalis

    It looks like Casalis came through with Moshoeshoe''s reputation and got a meeting with both of us. The only issue was that he needed Praetorius. Few would listen to him, but Praetorius, that name has power. That man was probably rejected by now and was heading back from the trek. Hopefully, he''ll be able to make it back in time.

    But he needed to make his preparations for negotiations. Before he headed to the local gun store and get the cultivators to make some guns for him, he decided to delegate it to a gun enthusiast who constantly bothered him about providing more guns to the Zulu in return for cattle to give to new settlers.

    "Nokuthula, do you want some guns?"

    "Of course. The more the better."

    "Then use some of the funds from the Boer investors to purchase them from the cultivators."

    "You''re entrusting me with these funds?"

    "I''m expecting you to not misuse it. It will be a bad reflection of the Zulu Kingdom after all."

    The door opened, and the cultivator meditating in the corner could be found.

    "Does the Smiths''¡­ fuck why do I have to say this¡­ Gun Store Sect take custom orders?"

    The cultivator was unmoving.

    "I need some cannons. How much can you make in a couple of months?"

    A hand could be felt on Jan''s shoulder and he found the cultivator missing.

    "Of course, the customer. We can make about¡­ 5-10 cannons a month," The Western cultivator boasted. Dressed unlike a cultivator, he was a bona fide cultivator, unlike those in martial art novels.

    "Does that include ammunition?"

    "Depends on how much you want."

    "Give me twenty cannons and one hundred shots of grapeshot."

    "That is hard, in a couple of months."

    "Then split the labour. You''re not the only¡­ sect in town, there are many cultivators here. Contract with other gun stores to make it possible."

    "We would expect much compensation for such a bothersome trouble," The cultivator frowned.

    "I may not have a lot of money, but I can use other people''s money," Jan dumped a small bag of sterling pounds onto the countertop, letting the cultivator inspect the coins. He continued, "Consider it as a deposit. Deliver it to Port Mpande."

    "Is it the new town by St Lucia Bay?"

    Jan nodded.

    "If the goods are good, this might be a recurring contract. The Port will be requesting more armaments in the future, and we hope that the Smith''s Gun Store Sect will be able to serve its needs."

    "Of course, sir. Thank you very much," The cultivator gratuitously bowed. Jan momentarily thought it would be preferable if he said something like ''How dare you don''t use honorifics and dishonour my family and immediately deliver the face-slapping. It''s too bad the cultivators of this world were super disappointing compared to their portrayals in the novels.

 Chapter 16: Man and Elf part 1

    A Zulu Impi warrior trudged through the dark. The pale skin inhabitants had him on edge as he wormed his way through this unfamiliar environment. The strange architecture was something out of this world. The inhabitants speak a wildly exotic language. Everything was just not Zulu.

    But like the few other Zulus who came to this new town, they were looking for opportunities. Simply cultivating their maize and raising cattle was all that was destined for them, but some simply wanted another way. He was few. Raised alongside men from eight, he helped men along during their campaigns. Carrying their bags and cleaning their weapons, he always knew he wanted something different. Yet that something different was so dangerous¡­

    Rumbling could be heard from the next alleyway down. The elf paused and found four pairs of eyes looking back at him from the alleyway.

    Burp! One man let out, and he staggered forward, gesturing at him.

    "Wie het hierdie swartkie hier laat!" (Who let this blackie here!)

    The man hollered, and the man closed the gap, swinging a glass bottle in his left hand. He paused, took a swig, and shook his body as if he was gearing up for a fight.

    "Ja, fok hom op!" (Yeah, fuck him up!) Another shouted and gestured at the Zulu. His movements were steady, showing all signs of sobriety, lacking the poison of alcohol.

    The drunk lunged, and the Zulu stepped to the side, letting his swing miss.

    "Kan jy nie stilstaan nie!" (Can''t you stand still!") The man made another lunge, trying to grapple the elf. But the elf lightly shoved him, causing him to lean against a wall. As the drunk pushed himself against the wall, his friend helped to support him.

    "Fok hy is gewapen met ''n spies!" (Fuck he''s armed with a spear!)

    The drunk''s friend reached for his gun, and the Zulu lunged, tackling the man onto the ground. As they fought tooth to nail, punching and kicking at one another, the Zulu felt cold steel behind his back.

    As the Zulu turned, the gunman kicked off and reached for his gun. Paddling with his legs, he grasped onto his rifle and smiled to see backup. The two other friends at the scene had their guns pointing right at the Zulu. The elf dropped his spear, and sat against the ground, knowing better than to resist.

    "Dis hoe ''n slaaf soos jy moet optree." (That''s how a slave like you should behalf.)

    The gunman grinned and stood up. Confidently striding forward, he landed a kick to the solar plexus. The Zulu leaned forward and coughed. The man landed another kick, making the elf groan. Once the elf recovered, he slammed the butt of his musket on the elf''s face, bruising him. As the elf lay on the ground, he spat on him.

    "Fok hom op." (Fuck him up.)

    All the men rained blows on the elf who groaned and cried for help. A punch to the eye. A kick to the stomach. They rained their frustrations on the living punching bag which sputtered and gasped for air. As the Zulu lay unconscious on the ground, they laughed, and walked off, leaving the elf groaning.

    Too bad this world wasn''t like the anime world, where species can live in peaceful harmony as soon as the protagonist took over. Jan sighed, as the horrifying incident reached his ears. As he sat in his pondering what his next actions were, the whole Port was in an uproar. Small arguments already broke out in the marketplace as men were shouting at one another, accusing each other of crimes their species commit.

    Elves are savage and started a fight. The Zulu was armed with a spear, and the men had to defend themselves from the threat.

    Humans are vicious. Even if their opponent is down, they had to beat the poor man while their down.

    The Zulu-Boer project was at stake. And for the first time, Jan could not feel confident. Such incidences weren''t unique in the geopolitics game he played. Such events popped out from time to time. But the events weren''t personal, they affected 0s and 1s. But this, this hit close to home.

    A woman trudged into his office. From the footsteps, he could already guess who the presence could be. He looked up from his desk to see his Veldkornet, Nokuthula. She was fuming, and her face lacked mirth. Gritting her teeth, she bashed his desk.

    Bang! The items on his desk shook from the impact, and he could only frown from her barbarianism. As she stood there, standing up straight with her posture as high as it could be, she glared down at him. He pouted and got up from his seat.

    "So¡­ no need to be said why you''re here?"

    Nokuthula did not reply.

    "It''s about the incident, isn''t it?" Jan asked, and she nodded her head.

    "How can I help you?"

    Breathing out her frustrations, she spoke," It''s simple. Punish these Boers for their insolence. I want to have them executed! But out of respect for our partnership, have them subjected to 20 years of hard labour."

    ''What kind of respect is that? They die in a year or two under such conditions.'' Jan thought.

    "You should know that''s not possible. The men ought to be punished reasonably. A year or two of hard labour will be good." Jan stopped and realized he should probably codify laws else he will have to become a Chinese magistrate and handle these numerous court cases constantly.

    "Unacceptable! Is this how you want these men to perceive Zulu lives? Lesser than Boer? Slaves to Boers like the Khoikhoi?" Nokuthula stormed out, leaving little words.

    Jan sighed. Oh, this matter cannot be simply resolved.

    Another man came in, hiding behind the door as the angry Zulu Chieftess stormed out.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "Looks like I came at the wrong time," The man apologized, and stretched out his hand. Catching his hand, Jan shook it.

    "Always a pleasure to see you," Jan smiled.

    "Today, I came for business, as usual," Joren paused, and as Jan''s smile was erased, he continued," One of the men is one of the sons of my numerous business associates. I hope you will not be too harsh on him. A mere slap on the wrist will hopefully be sufficient."

    "I can''t do that. Our Zulu partners will break away from this partnership. And Praetorius will come after me. Who will answer to him?"

    "Jan, I believe you are a very smart man. You''ve come this far through all the various challenges. I''m sure you can resolve it in a manner satisfactory to both parties. If that is not enough of an incentive, we can always discuss things in terms of money. How much do you want? I can hand it over today, anytime."

    Jan shook his head, "I''m sorry. But I need time to think."

    Joren grimaced, and sighed, "Please understand that how you handle these tumultuous times will be a reflection of our future working relationship. What can the Zulus do for you? They have built most of the things around us. But all they have is cattle and maize. What else?"

    The man left, not even leaving a goodbye.

    "Fokken ondermenslike elwe." (Fucking subhuman elves.)

    "Barbare." (Barbarians.)

    "Glad nie vertrou kan word nie." (Can''t be trusted at all.)

    Murmurs echoed in the Boer districts as Jan decided to take a walk. So far, few newcomers recognized his face as he rarely made his rounds. Only a few important men and women who could bypass the small workforce of bureaucrats occasionally talked to him. But the rest? They saw him as another trekker.

    And here he was, dining out as racist remarks let loose from their loose lips. The owner has even hung a sign by the window. It states ''No filthy elves allowed''. Good thing few elves recognize Elfrikaans or Dutch, else they would burn this place to the ground.

    An indescribable line is drawn within the town. On one end is known as Zulutown, where the elves hang out. Few men ventured into their territory, fearing they might end up a carcass.

    The elves were the same. And more of them wielded spears. A few lucky men were equipped with firearms, showing that some of the princess'' loyalists have settled in the Port.

    Being the Commando, he decided to test his luck. Technically he was in charge, just that few people recognized him. But still, surely he won''t be killed if he stepped into the Zulu district. He passed the white faces only to start seeing more Zulu housing. A merge of Boer architecture and Zulu. Their igloo-looking huts had multiple stories, and elves were keeping an eye out. Specifically, on him, the only man bravely venturing into Zulu territory.

    Strange glares were given to him from both races. Men were calling out at him, telling him to get back on their side or else he will get killed. Taking step after step, fearing for the life of someone who looked like them, they began reaching for their firearms.

    Seeing the Boers reaching for their firearms, the Zulus reached for their spears. At this point, Jan decided to de-escalate the situation by heading back to the district dedicated to humans. A few stern-looking elves were looking at him menacingly, pointing their spearheads at him. He meekly headed back, making sure to keep his hands off his firearm.

    "Jan? What are you doing here? Get back to your district," Nokuthula politely spoke, this time dressed in traditional Zulu clothing. Leopard skin was heavily decorated on her bodice, showing her status amongst the Zulus.

    Seeing such a big shot appear, the men raised their firearms, and the Zulus raised their shields.

    Jan turned around and nodded, and the Zulu men closely backed off, letting him go back to his district unharried. Looks like he can''t even step into half of his town before almost getting killed.

    "Ohh¡­ thanks." Jan casually spoke, and the Boers dumbly looked at one another as the two spoke in an alien language to them. It was reminiscent of what English merchants that came from time to time spoke to one another. As they looked into one another''s eyes, there was one thing they thought.

    ''Is dit Engels?'' (Is that English?)

    The Zulu Chieftess entered Jan''s office in Western clothing with a stern look. Stifling a cough, Jan sat up straight and leaned his elbows against the table.

    "As Commando, I didn''t expect that there were some parts of town I cannot enter," Jan shook his head.

    "Things are tense. I recommend laying off from my side of town. If you want to wrap things up, then punish the men."

    "You know I can''t do that. It will anger the Boers."

    "Then what about the Zulu? Are we not equals in your eyes?"

    Nokuthula frowned and was about to storm off once more.

    "I can''t make such a hasty decision. I must meet up with the victims and perpetrators to hear their side of the story before handing out such judgements."

    "Very well. I can bring you to see the Zulu warrior."

    Traversing to Zulutown with Nokuthula leading the way was less stressful. With a simple headband of leopard skin around her forehead, few approached her or her guest. He was brought to a more urbanized part of Zulutown, the influences of urban architecture influencing Zulu buildings. Instead of a simple hut, there were multi-storied buildings with some touches of concrete used here and there in an experimental fashion.

    The Zulu elves wore all sorts of clothing. Yet for the plebians, there was one thing in common, they did not have a piece of leopard skin on them. For the few that wore them, Nokuthula glared at them, and they quickly removed them from their persons, deferring to her. Few were wearing any Western clothing.

    "How''s trade? No merchants selling any Western goods?" Jan asked as he wondered why none of the Zulus adopted Western clothing.

    "Few bother trading with us. We don''t have any gold or pounds, only maize or cattle. Few would also trade their cattle for worthless clothes," Nokuthula shrugged as she explained.

    "Would you mind if clothes were free?"

    "Who would say no to free? What are the costs?"

    "As a Commando of Port Mpande, I do have the responsibility to serve my fellow Zulu inhabitants. I could get some Western clothing free of charge."

    The Chieftess looked over to study Jan''s gaze, before turning back to a two-storied Zulu building.

    "We''re here."

    Upon Jan''s entry into the building, everyone tensed up, taking a couple of steps back to reach for their nearest weapons. With a simple raise of her hand, they stopped in their steps and continued doing what they had to do.

    Simple beds, which were mats with straw held the sick and injured. Some panicked at the sight of his skin, probably asking others to strike him down where he stood. But Nokuthula ignored them and brought him up a flight of stairs.

    "At the end of the room is Nhlahla, I bid you good luck."

    Nokuthula stopped, and let him approach the injured elf. She watched her every action, and Jan could feel it as he turned around to look at the heavily bruised being. Their eyes opened in fear as he approached.

    "I will translate the words you say. So, speak as you wish," Nokuthula explained as Jan looked towards her.

    "Who are you?" The elf demanded, their body quivering as they fought to get up.

    "Commando of the town you stay in, how can I help?" Jan took a seat by the elf.

    "I translated that as Chieftess. There are no words in the Zulu dictionary that could capture the Boer meaning of Commando." Nokuthula informed, before continuing her duties.

    "You don''t look like a chieftess?" The elf scanned him from head to toe, most noticeably, stopping his gaze on his unfeminine chest and hips.

    Jan facepalmed.

    "Tell me what happened to you."

    Nhlahla began regaling a tale of how he was interested in something else other than working with the other Zulu warriors. Even if he spent almost all his life in a Zulu Impi, that didn''t mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life as a warrior. Recently feeling very disassociated with the other warriors, he heard of Port Mpande through some emigrants who were looking for another way to live. Port Mpande, a joint ownership between Zulu and Boer, allowed one to live as they wish to live. It was a home not too far from home. He packed his belongings and uprooted himself, sneaking away during the night to have any of the warriors stop him.

    Entering the Port by St Lucia Bay, he was completely lost and spent hours wandering about. Inadvertently, he wandered into Boer districts and got caught up with some Boer aggression.

    "That''s all he had to say," Nokuthula explained, as the Zulu kept silent, seemingly relieved to have someone else listen to their tale.

    "Kufanele ngikubuyisele emuva." Nokuthula said in her people''s language, causing the Zulu warrior to shiver.

    "Kodwa uma nje uvuma ukuthi ngiyinkosikazi, anginankinga."

    Those words made the Zulu warrior rapidly nod his head.

    Just as Jan was trying to process her words, she turned to face him. "Now, let us find the Boer perpetrators."

    "Who were they anyway? No one is coming out to step out and claim responsibility for the incident."

    "Would you believe me if we said we kidnapped them?"

    "Could you repeat that?"

    "We kidnapped them."

    "¡­"

    "Do you know what you have done?"

    "Are you going to start a diplomatic incident over the kidnapping of scum? If we didn''t do so, they will never be found."

    Jan sighed and meekly followed her to another building. The implications were horrifying, to say the least.

    ''Note to self, do not piss off the Zulu.'' Jan thought.

 Chapter 17: Man and elf part 2

    A simple wooden hut by the outskirts of the Port in Zulutown. Yes, Zulutown is a good name for the Zulu districts. Jan thought random thoughts like this as he walked with Nokuthula to the wooden hut. He pondered about asking whether such a name would be offensive in their eyes, but before his mind began fighting, Nokuthula spoke up.

    "Seems you got something to say."

    "This would sound strange and may be rather rude. But what do you think about calling the Zulu districts Zulutown."

    Nokuthula took some to ponder Jan''s frivolous question, before replying," You know? We call the Boer districts a similar name, Boertown. Or something close to your language. There are alternative names due to this incident. But for the sake of politeness, I shan''t divulge what they are."

    He could already imagine what names they were coming up "White Devils" or something along that line of thinking. Both parties did not trust one another, this incident only confirmed the biases that many in the population had. And now these people had a group of rather willing people who could agree with their preconceived notions. So, they''re going about spreading it as if it''s some gospel.

    Simple shack, with a couple of Zulu guards outside, armed with the latest Boer firearms. They clumsily held the firearm, clearly unfamiliar with such a weapon. But Jan could not fault them for their quirks, for he was the same not too long ago.

    Seeing their chieftess arriving by the door, they stood to the side and let her in. Before blocking Jan''s entry, she waved them to the side and let him in as well.

    One Zulu Guard was watching over the men, beaten up similarly to the injured Zulu warrior. They were cowering, hugging one another. Upon seeing someone of their race entering, they began looking towards Jan, hoping for salvation.

    "Meneer!" (Sir!) They hollered, but the Zulu launched a kick towards them, shutting them up.

    Seeing their state, and knowing that there was someone amongst them was related to Joren''s business associates, he left the hut. Nokuthula followed behind, curious about his actions.

    "Let''s talk here. I don''t want them to hear our words."

    "If you speak in English, they won''t be able to understand your words."

    "I rather not take the chance."

    "Very well, speak your mind."

    Nokuthula confidently glanced around her surroundings. With her guards close by, and the weakling before her lacking any martial ability, she smiled.

    "An eye for an eye seems to be the Zulu way. You have beaten them as how they have beaten your kind. So, I do not see any reason for punishment."

    "So? Are you going to let them go? Let every man know that Zulu life is lesser than that of a Boer. If you do so, our partnership is over. The Princess will understand once I explain the situation to her."

    "There is no need to do so. I do plan on punishing them. But not too severely."

    Nokuthula watched him, waiting for him to pull off any funny tricks.

    "Have you heard something known as community service?" Jan let his words sink in. Naturally, the Zulu Chieftess tilted her head to the side.

    "Well basically, these men will be forced to commit to labour for the community. Whether it be constructing roads, picking up garbage in the streets or building homes. Simple useful labour."

    "What is garbage?"

    "We have cattle and horses roaming the streets. Some of them let out manure on the streets. Someone must clean them up."

    "¡­"

    "So, if you''re worried about Zulu Dignity, making these men perform duties such as these will help the populace understand how they should perceive one another."

    "But?" Nokuthula asked, before continuing," You''ve said it in such a sweet tone. But I must ask, what is the catch?"

    "I cannot make these men perform this service. I will need the Zulus to enforce it behind the shadows."

    "I hate that you''re giving us work to do when you''re supposed to be helping us as a leader. But very well since these concern us. We shall help."

    "Menere, ek het gekom om julle hier uit te kry." (Gentlemen, I''ve come to get you out of here.)

    Jan strolled in and gestured at the Zulu Guard who frowned at this impudent Boer. But seeing the glare from the Chieftess behind Jan, he meekly left the hut.

    Untying the restraints from the men, the men began hugging him, thanking him for getting them out of this mess.

    "Nou, nou. Ek het wel vir jou vrylating onderhandel. Maar daar is ''n paar bepalings en voorwaardes. Ek hoop nie jy steur jou aan hulle nie." (Now, now. I did negotiate for your release. But there are some terms and conditions. I hope you don''t mind them.)A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The men didn''t care, only glad that they were free. They were shaken from their experience of being kidnapped, and they didn''t care what the terms were for. How could the terms be worse than what they just experienced?

    Decrees were put up around buildings all over Port Mpande. There was one printed in Elfrikaans, and another was printed in Zulu. And they were placed all over the town and its various districts, side by side with one another.

    Translated into English, the decree reads:

    The Four Boers, names redacted for the sake of privacy, involved in the assault of the Zulu warrior REDACTED will be punished with 72 hours of community service. They will be cleaning up our streets, ensuring that they are walkable and clean.

    Such a simple message, although Jan had some concerns about how REDACTED will be perceived by Boers and Zulus. He had to put these concerns aside, as an angry Boer marched into his office.

    "Jan, what the hell is this!" Joren gestured at the decree in his hands, likely torn down from some wall.

    "Are you sure you wish to end our business relations over some damn elves!" He bashed his fist on the table.

    "Joren, calm down." Jan got up from his seat and placed a hand on his shoulder.

    "You know very well that I have no intention of doing so. I also have no intention of submitting to the elves, so I came up with this solution. You see, while they are punished, there is no one enforcing their punishment. In consideration for you, I have even removed their names."

    "Oh¡­ so that''s what redacted means¡­" Joren mumbled. Looks like he really should not have used the term ''redacted''.

    "In the end, this should still be acceptable to both you and your business associates."

    This time, a hand from Joren clasped onto Jan''s shoulders.

    "Remember what I''ve said? You''re a genius. The elves are happy, and I am happy. A win-win solution for both of us. Contact me if you need more funds. I''m sure my¡­ I mean our associates are more willing to loosen their purse strings."

    The man happily left. As he stepped out of his office, he frowned at the sight of a dark elf.

    Tsk. He clicked his tongue and continued his pace.

    "Surely you don''t mean what you said?" Nokuthula asked as she took Joren''s place in Jan''s office.

    "Whether you want to see these men ''punished'' is up to you. I wouldn''t mind if you made them do community service every day. But please don''t be too extreme in your enforcement. I do not wish to be implicated."

    Nokuthula shrugged, turning around to hide her facial expressions, and calmly walked out of the room.

    Every day, when Jan woke up in his room in the town hall, he went to the windows and found the same four individuals in the streets. They were shovelling manure from the ground, laying gravel over the dirt roads, as well wiping as the exterior of the various windows. Yes, those very same men always appeared in the mornings. It happened the day after Nokuthula left his office.

    Those men were for some reason always there. Looking a bit further south, he found some elves who covered themselves in Western clothing, blending themselves in the Boer districts. They were always glaring at them, occasionally reaching for the guns they had around their shoulders.

    ''Nokuthula has no understanding of restraint!'' Jan panicked at first, but once he calmed down and thought about it. Nothing was tying the elves to him. So even if they were caught, he could say he didn''t know. There was no motive for him to enforce their punishments anyway, so this only would benefit the elves.

    He even received a letter from one of the fathers of the men.

    It was in Elfrikaans, so his mind translated it to English when he read it.

    Dear Commando Jan,

    My son was a useless person, all he did was go to the pub to get drunk. Afterwards, he would harass the local women and give me a lot of headaches from angry fathers. But now, he has matured. Your community punishment has allowed him to understand the ramifications of his actions, and now he has turned over a new leaf to perform good deeds.

    Yours sincerely,

    A father

    Jan didn''t know how to feel once he read it. Should he tell the truth? Sir, your son was working very hard not to be shot when he is alone in the middle of the night. But he decided to let it be. It was amusing to see the same sights every morning when he woke up after all.

    "More ships are passing by, aren''t they?" A man remarked as he shook his legs by a pier, watching the ships going by. All sorts of vessels went past St Lucia, British, Portuguese, Egyptian or Ottoman, they all passed by here to facilitate trade.

    "There was a Boer who came by¡­ saying he would set up a town by the bay near the newly conquered Zulu territories."

    "How long was that? A couple of months ago since they took that land, I doubt they could do much with it. Any news in the markets? A hot good? A new tulip craze perhaps?"

    "I haven''t checked. But that might be the case. I doubt those farmers would be able to build a port. All they know is to run away. My last business partner was a Boer yeah?"

    "How was he?"

    "He was a decent fellow. He seemed like an honest and trustworthy chap. I left him alone for a couple of months. The next thing I knew when I came back to check the accounts, there were many unaccounted figures in the books. When I asked him about this, he said he didn''t know."

    The other man nodded.

    "I was angry! I threatened to sue him and hired a lawyer to file my case in the Cape Colony. But you know what happened?"

    "That fella run away?"

    "That fucker run away! Took my money and trekked to the middle of nowhere. I don''t know where he went. Hope the elves boil his brains for soup... No, there might be too cruel for the elves."

    "What do you expect from dumb farmers?"

    The Englishman shrugged and frowned as he observed the ships passing by. Nothing much was out of place, perhaps he was overthinking things. Still, it would not be bad to check in with the town at St Lucia Bay soon. Those Boers might be planning something that might involve St Lucia Bay, perhaps massing a force to conquer the town. That cannot stand!

    The first shipments of cannons arrived with grapeshot. A single cannon was calmly hefted by the cultivator as he pointed at the various places on the cannon. It was carefully sculpted by Master Smith, and as the cultivator explained, if he wanted decorations or what not emblazoned on it, he was going to have to pay extra.

    Jan nodded at his words. The cultivator then asked where he wanted to put it, and his brain froze at his words.

    Where to put it?

    Good question. Just like every good question in this world, there is no perfect answer, there''s only a multitude of good answers.

    He could point it right at the Zulu Kingdom. The cannons'' presence would strain Zulu-Boer relations, harming the remaining harmony between the two groups in the Port. It will spark an incident in the future. Problematically, the cannons would lay right in Zulutown. So if the Zulu population revolted, those cannons could be easily seized in them. However, showing that he did see the Zulu Kingdom as a threat would strengthen his power base consisting of Boers, who share that view, which is most of them. With the responsibility allocated to him as the Boer leader here, he would be expected to do it.

    Now he could point it right at the Natalia Republic. It would improve relations since the Zulu would not feel so threatened by its presence. But, it would lay in Boertown. If a Boer revolt broke out, those cannons were going to be seized by them. Doing so would lead to many questions, such as, what exactly was he doing? He could point them to St Lucia. But considering how some Englishman might visit soon, the sight of cannons pointing in the direction of the town might lead to unpleasant questions. In all honesty, he was better off locking it in an armoury somewhere. But he needed a show of strength.

    Jan was a new Commando. He needed to show the other Commandoes that he could do the same job as the rest of them, like procuring weapons to arm their men in the case a conflict breaks out. Showing off cannons would up his status amongst the Boers. Although, it was not necessary to display them.

    As all these thoughts roamed about his head, he froze up, unsure of what to pick.

    "Uhh¡­ I''ll just leave it here. You can get others to help you out instead. I still have things to do," The cultivator watched the customer freeze up and left the cannon on the ground before disappearing in a flash.

    Jan made up his mind and was about to utter his thoughts but found the cultivator missing. He sighed and shoved it to the back of his mind.

    "Commando Jan, I have to discuss the expansion of Port Mpande," Nokuthula professionally explained as she strolled into the office and watched the cannon in the centre of the room.

    She laid her eyes on it, and her eyes absorbed every detail of the beautiful weapon of destruction.

    "Is that a gift for me Commando?"

    Jan was about to shake his head but he paused and asked, "What are you planning to do with it?"

    "The Princess would be pleased with the famed Boer cannon. All she has received are simple firearms, but a cannon would greatly please her."

    ''How would pleasing her benefit me in any way? There''s still the problem of you being able to use it against me,'' Jan thought.

    "I understand that you''re afraid that we might use it against you. But how about this? If you gift the princess such a gift, she would be willing to open her contacts with other Zulu chieftesses. More Zulu chieftesses may further engage in trade, driving the overall Zulu engagement in the Zulu-Boer collaboration."

    "That''s only a possibility. But what can Zulu offer me? More maize and cattle? You should have known we have enough of that from the scant Zulu traders, what will more of that bring me?"

    Nokuthula''s lips curled up. She reached for a pocket and brought out a strip of leopard skin.

    "You see, the leopard skin is a rather valuable piece in our culture. Only those who have the authority are allowed to wear it. One can be put to death if one lacks the right to wear it. I''m sure the same could be said about you Westerners. We can provide leopard skin, like the fur trade in Canada. Of course, the Princess will only extend to do this to the Boers due to our partnership, no Englishman will be participating in the deal."

 Chapter 18: Relocation

    "Sir." A man with a black coat enveloping his shoulders announced his presence. He tipped his bowler hat to the side and straightened his coat.

    Jan nodded his head, and he stepped into his office. The wooden boards creaked with every step and he stopped in front of Jan''s desk. Putting some papers onto his desk, he explained.

    "I have compiled a list of concerning matters that you might want to take into account."

    He stood there, waiting for his superior''s words, looking around the plain office.

    That man is Russell Corbyn, a rare Englishman who took up the Great Trek to escape the influence of the Cape Colony. The lone survivor of an attack by elven tribes during the trek, he made his way over to the Natal Republic and find work. As few needed English speakers, he had to work on the farm and fields harvesting crops. Naturally, he took up the opportunity in Port Mpande, and worked as a bureaucrat, as they were looking for English speakers.

    Jan took the papers and shuffled through them.

    Things of Concern:

    <ul>

    <li>Boer-Zulu relations are tense. Another incident like the assault on the Zulu warrior might spark racial riots. (Notes: Top priority, and would require decades to be resolved)</li>

    <li> </li>

    <li>Subsistence farms are hogging up valuable land used in the districts. Shift them further away from the sea. (Notes: During that transition, many would need work. Perhaps a construction project or two might help smoothen the transition.)</li>

    <li> </li>

    <li>Lack of unity within the population. There is nothing uniting anyone here. Nothing common is shared between the residents. Thus, they stay in their enclaves, rarely intermingling with the other groups. (Notes: Hard one to solve, I''ll be honest.)</li>

    </ul>

    "Well, that last point is not exactly true. Everyone''s here to seek a better life. There''s something at least," Jan commented, and Russell nodded in acknowledgement.

    <ul>

    <li>Multiple Religious schools teaching multiple languages have popped up. This will further reduce unity and reduce economic opportunities for those graduating from a school that instructs in a discriminated language. (Notes: Choose one or let it be.)</li>

    <li> </li>

    </ul>

    "What language would that be? English? Elfrikaans? Dutch?" Jan looked up at the bureaucrat and asked.

    "My native language is English. This might be a little biased, but preferably English. The United Kingdom is the world''s leading Great Power. Most commerce is facilitated using English. Whether it be a Frenchman, German or a Russian trader, they will eventually be forced to interact with English."

    "And that would be a problem for the Elfrikaans or Dutch speakers here."

    "We are opening a trade port here. We are also economically dependent on English goods. No matter what, we will have to interact with the English. The agricultural produce of the Boers is mainly sold to the English," Russell pointed to a window whether Boers were walking the streets. In another district, he could see Elves walking the streets. All types of merchants were hawking goods, but the notable presence of English could be seen.

    "So, what you''re saying is that eventually Elfrikaans or Dutch or any other language would become an economically discriminated language, as English speakers would be able to pick up the best jobs offered by the English. So even if I don''t do anything, that would be the eventual outcome. And so, there is little I could do to even change this outcome."

    "It''s how the world works. Money talks," Russell shrugged.

    "Since it''s like that, there is not much I could do for number 4," Jan crossed out line number 4, before continuing, "I could work on number 2. Could you get the Veldkornet Nokuthula to discuss it? Better to nip it in the bud."

    "Very well."

    The English bureaucrat left and Jan shuffled through the enormous amount of problems on the list. Naturally, Russell would compare the current standards to Great Britain''s standards, which is incomparable in the first place. Half of the problems will never be solved. For example, infrastructure. How was he going to get the talent to build trains and railroads?

    "I refuse," Nokuthula brusquely replied upon hearing Jan''s explanation.

    "Why? The port is expected to expand. And we will need more land to accommodate the expansion. We will need to shift all those farms further out."

    "That is a Boer problem. Where are the newcomers settling? Boer districts. But what about the Zulu? Barely any newcomers settle in the Zulu districts."

    Nokuthula frowned and scoffed, thinking that he called her to waste her time.

    Jan could already foresee what was going to happen if he let her be. He could already imagine the poor elves working in the factories as the Boers sat up on the second floor, barking out orders to the elves.

    "I do not wish for the Boers to only benefit from such an expansion. Since this project is a collaboration between both Boer and Zulu, then naturally it should equally benefit both. Newcomers will eventually settle in those lands since they''ll be cheap. And businessmen would save money. Sure, it will take some time for them to come. But they will come. And you''ll have to deal with this problem as well."

    Nokthula sighed, "We have put a lot of effort into constructing and planning most of it. And now you come to us and said to throw all of our plans away."

    Jan shook his head, "You will not be the only one suffering from such a transition. I''ll have to make those farms shift as well. You have authority as a chieftess, but I have little."

    The elf snorted derisively, "Just do what all other Boers do, point your guns at the problem and they''ll move. You''re the Commando, you have the most guns."

    "This won''t be easy. We have tried to convince the Bakkers with many things and offered concession after concession." Russell remarked as Jan and his entourage of bureaucrats strolled by the Boer outskirts. There were faces of different colours and astonishingly of different genders. If this was the history of his old world, then they would all be male. But due to the corruption of fantasy, the only females were elves, and the humans were all males as in old world history.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "What do they say?" Jan asked.

    "Over their dead bodies that their farm will move."

    "Did you threaten them with any artillery barrage or something?"

    "Not exactly, I just said that we would use any means necessary," Russell sighed, and from what Jan could glean from his eyes, he could see that he thought of them as some dumb countryfolk.

    A simple farm spread before the group. The establishment of a fence was being constructed on the land''s outskirts, and a man was hammering wood into the soil. He had a musket sling around his shoulder. Jan reached for his gun and felt it touching his back before going ahead.

    That man spotted the group and barked in Elfrikaans "I said fuck off!"

    He reached for his gun and the rest of them of the bureaucrats also reached for the guns.

    "No need for showmanship, you know you won''t win."

    Jan quickly unslung his musket and pointed it right at that man. Looks like practice paid off as he pulled out the gun faster than that man.

    Looking fearfully at the gun pointed right at him, he stopped reaching his gun and asked meekly," Put away such a vulgar thing. what do you want?"

    "I am Commando Jan Boddewijk. And I am here to discuss the relocation of your farm."

    The male Bakker blinked upon hearing the young man''s words, and he looked at the man from head to toe. His expression held confusion as he compared the man before him that looked like a scholar with the ideal Commando he thought of.

    "That''s the problem if you don''t have a currency to mint your face on. We should get our monetary system in place." Russell whispered into his ear.

    "Then won''t I need to get some gold to back such a currency in the first place!" Jan whispered back at him.

    His brain went on autopilot, translating whatever Mr Bakker said. He was in a power pose, keeping his back straight and constantly looking at his eyes. Jan was not intimidated and felt like a crime boss as his gang of bureaucrats surrounded Mr Bakker if he tried to pull anything funny.

    "Why should I move? As you can see, I have begun erecting a fence. I will have to do that again! All that time and effort! As well as the crops, I have recently planted them." Mr Bakker growled.

    "As my subordinates have discussed, you will be aptly recompensated for your losses. New land would be districted out to your family."

    "But what about the time and labour to set things up? I will also need compensation for that!"

    Jan took in a deep breath and exhaled. Mr Bakker was not wrong, and he could understand his frustration. Imagine setting everything up and someone else came over to tell him to destroy whatever he was doing and do it again in another place. To put it simply, he would be pissed. But it was not as if money was unlimited, and that he could simply recompensate everyone.

    "I can get some men to work for you for free. I am the Commando after all. I can easily conscript your new neighbours to help construct all of this for you. Of course, your neighbours will have to construct theirs as well, so you are expected to help them out if you choose to participate in this."

    Mr Bakker''s mouth hung open. The bureaucrats'' mouths hung open at his suggestion. Such an action would be stepping out of his line. Jan was not some feudal lord; he was a Commando. He can only conscript the men during wartime.

    "If your farm needs to be constructed quickly, I don''t mind overstepping my boundaries. I''ll make sure to let everyone know why I must do so," Jan curled up his lips as he unleashed his thinly veiled threat.

    Mr Bakker began slouching in contemplation. The easy way route would be to say yes, but then everyone will know who got them all conscripted. And naturally, he would be absorbing all the aggro from everyone. His smooth-sailing life was over.

    "Very well, sir. I will relocate with my family''s resources. There is no need for your assistance," Mr Bakker grumbled.

    "Where are you going to get all the funds to recompensate those farmers? Plus, I don''t agree with your idea of funding their subsistence farming! It''s bloody inefficient!" Russell complained.

    "These lands are going to be sold to fund the funds. And sometime in the future, perhaps someone will buy up all their farmland and consolidate it. There is no need for our intervention."

    Jan felt cold as Russell''s words reminded him of someone. If he failed to keep this man reined in, sometime in the future, he was going to create Five-Year Plans. Someone better kept those kinds of books from him.

    And so, Jan and his entourage of bureaucrats made their way back to carry out the endless amount of work they had to do.

    "Jan."

    "Port Natal?"

    Praetorius shook his head. At long last, after a few months of travel back and forth, Prime Minister Praetorius made his way back. There was a certain coldness between the two. Jan blinked his eyes and the scene during the Xhosa ambush replayed in the darkness.

    Praetorius scanned the surroundings of the port watching the few ships passing by. He turned to see the foot traffic in the Boer districts, filled with traders moving their goods. He then turned to see the Elven districts that had little life in them, a few adventurous traders who were willing to accept cattle and maize as payment hawked their goods. Then he turned to face the Commando in charge of this project, especially the missionary beside him.

    "Bonjour." The French missionary bowed, and the cross around his neck shook.

    "Just as I was about to take a break¡­ Now I have another problem to solve." Praetorius grumbled.

    "This is a French missionary hailing from the French mission to Basutoland. Casalis has set up a meeting with a Xhosa representative."

    "This is the way you have thought of to end the raids on trekkers?"

    "Better than sending a war party to shoot them until they stop."

    "Give me a week or two. The men need some time to rest before they are willing to trek again."

    "The Boers have constructed a port!" An English trader stormed into the town council meeting and declared.

    The other council members frowned at this intrusion and stared at the English trader.

    "Those farmers constructed a port? Are you hallucinating again Bill? Perhaps you didn''t drink enough water and hallucinated of Port Natal."

    Bill glared at the councilmember but went into his prepared speech, "I don''t know how exactly they have done it but they got a port up. What was a mere patch of land in St Lucia Bay became a bustling town! This is disastrous for St Lucia! Who''s going to move here when they can move into Port Mpande."

    "Mpanda?"

    "Mpande!" Bill hollered, before adding on, "Some Zulu word or something. I don''t know. But I do know that the Zulus and the Boers are collaborating."

    "Bill! Does that even make sense? Would you befriend someone who stole your land and murdered thousands of your people?"

    "I''m serious about this, Tom. I don''t know why, but maybe you should check it out. A day or two''s journey and you should be able to see the sights yourself," Bill shook his head before leaving the hall.

    "That''s Bill, always getting drunk and storming into council meetings. Thinking he''s councilmember." A council member remarked and they laughed.

    "Strange, I didn''t smell the scent of whiskey of him¡­" The member nearest to Bill mumbled.

    "Just saying¡­ what if he was right? Then what do we do?" Tom Simon asked, remembering the previous instance when a Boer came over and introduced himself.

    "You think those Boers would launch an attack on us? They only bully the weak. Those elves can''t fight back with their spears. But they have guns. We also have guns. Just let them be, I don''t see how they would cause any harm."

    "That''s not the problem. The problem is the question of this town''s existence. If you had a choice between the Boer town or this, which would you rather pick?" Tom asked.

    "St Lucia of course! Why would I want to live in a town run by farmers? It would smell like shit everywhere."

    "Let''s say Bill is right. And they have built a port. And with that, comes lots of jobs offered that are linked to the port. Would you rather live in St Lucia or the Boer town where you will be able to get a better standard of living, as well as better access to goods?"

    The council member stammered, unsure of what to answer to that.

    "That brings the question of the reason for St Lucia''s existence. Why should this town still exist?"

    "Because it''s run by Englishmen, for Englishmen!" An Englishman declared.

    "Not all would think like you. And if a sizeable enclave of Englishman settles in the Boer town? Then what then? You can live in an Englishtown run by Englishman."

    The room fell silent as members pondered Tom''s words.

    "Perhaps we should take a look for ourselves before panicking over nothing." A council member proposed, and they all sided with him, chiding Tom for fearmongering like that.

 Chapter 19: Xhosa Councillor

    A bespectacled gentleman with a bushy beard greeted the group as they stepped off the wagon. He wore a light green coat that was not fully buttoned and drops of sweat were beading off his head.

    "Gentlemen, it''s a pleasure to see you," He smirked, stretching out a hand.

    "Pleasure to see you too," Pretorius coolly matched his gesture and confidently shook his hand. Buttoned up in formal Victorian attire, the two men studied each other''s appearances. A French Missionary who did not look like a missionary. And a trekker who traversed these dangerous lands full of hostile tribes was now decked out in the wear of a proper upper-class Victorian man.

    The two men with appearances not befitting their daily lives made small talk and headed off to a separate room.

    "I hope the malaria''s been kind."

    "Cinchona supplies have been low, but I have ordered additional supplies from Peru."

    Casalis bit his lip, " The Peruvians just had to block their exports, jacking up the prices for everyone."

    They discussed confusing matters that Jan could not comprehend as he followed behind them, following the Boer entourage who left their guns in the wagon. This was foreign soil, especially in the Kingdom of Lesotho. They could not keep their customs here. The men distracted themselves by eyeballing the various inhabitants, especially beautiful elves, but Jan tried to remember all he knew of the Xhosa.

    There was little that went around. But the Xhosa Kingdom is splintered into various tribes under the ruling AmaXhosa. Due to the 6th Frontier Wars, the Kingdom is now fractured due to the loss. The ruling Queen Sarhili was struggling to assert her right to power and began a war with another Xhosa state, the Theumbu. Unfortunately, she lost and had to lick her wounds on the way out. Thus, she had little power remaining.

    In the oncoming negotiations, it was obvious who had the higher position in the negotiation. There were many things the Boers could use to leverage the Xhosa on their side, but that is only if the other party is reasonable.

    The moment they stepped into the room. An older-looking elf looked at the group and glared at every one of the humans individually. She barked off some words, and the missionary stammered to translate the words.

    "She wished that I relay her words in her entirety, so I apologize for any rudeness," The missionary scratched the back of his head before gathering the courage to continue speaking, " Why the fuck did I come here just to see the killers of my people!"

    Jan sighed, and the rest of the men acted as if they knew this was going to happen. They took their seats, and the elf barked out more words to an assistant who held a spear. But a missionary came in between them and urged her to soothe her anger.

    As tensions were about to hit the boiling point, another elf stoically strolled into the room with an entourage of her men. She calmly sat in between the two groups, letting her eye lay on each of their faces, before letting her staff rest against her seat.

    Saying some words in her language, Casalis translated her words," Her majesty wishes both groups to have a fruitful discussion."

    The Xhosa Elf was about to retort to her words but stayed her mouth at the last second.

    Casalis awkwardly looked toward the Boer group, and the Boer group could only awkwardly look at him. Both didn''t want to look at the overly hostile Xhosa group. It was not because of the many elves wielding spears keeping the distance behind the matriarchs. The Boers felt naked without their guns and meekly smiled at them.

    For all her show of hostility, the Xhosa Matriarch was calm to explain her grievances towards the Boers. Before the sixth frontier wars, a group of Boer Commandoes slaughtered a Xhosa chieftess. Such an action calling for escalation led to the war in the first place.

    Praetorius rebutted that it was because they launched cattle raids on those Boers seeking to live a peaceful life.

    To that, the matriarch replied that those men were doing so on land belonging to them.

    The short story was about the end of the war, a group of Boers settled the new lands gained by that war. And they were well-armed, for they had guns as well as men on horseback enjoying the fruits of Xhosa labour.

    "What am I supposed to do about that? That''s none of my jurisdiction. Those are another group of trekkers, and they even have British backing. There''s nothing I can do," Praetorius shook his shoulders.

    The translator sighed and futilely shook their head side to side as he carefully uttered her following words, "Then the raids on men passing by Xhosa land continue."

    "This and that is different. These men and women are seeking for land to settle. They have no intentions to settle in Xhosa land, so why open fire on these men?"

    "Without the reminder that their lives could be forfeited at any time, they will eventually settle in our lands. For example, remember the group of Boers that settled in these lands belonging to her majesty?" The Xhosa matriarch looked towards the Lesotho Queen who nodded at her words.

    "They didn''t leave even when her majesty allowed them to rest on her lands for the time being. But did they respect her majesty''s words? No. They spat on her face by even constructing a proper settlement. Without intervention by another group of Boers, would they have even bothered to move? Better not give them a chance to lust after our lands!"

    "Most of these men aren''t interested in fighting. It''s already dangerous traversing from the Cape to the Elfrican interior. Land that is difficult to obtain such as Xhosa land is undesirable to these people."

    The two bickered about the same things using the missionaries speaking on their behalf. It felt very strange to argue with one another even if they were brothers serving the same cause, especially for the missionaries who looked away from each other gazes as they translated their words.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    The two groups decided to take a short break from one another. Praetorius could only sigh as he took a sip of water from his canteen, knowing what the outcome was to be. But Jan did not give up, and he struck up a chat with Praetorius.

    "I don''t think it''s going to work. Those Xhosa aren''t going to listen to reason," Praetorius shook his head, anticipating Jan''s words.

    "How about giving them firearms?" Jan smirked.

    "Firearms? What''s going to stop them from using them against us? Do you know how many people go on the trek? Are you going to make their lives harder?"

    "It''s not as if they don''t respect an agreement. Just as that elf said, they accept that they lost their land away in the Frontier wars. I''m sure they will respect an agreement. Their main grief is with the Cape Colony. I doubt they will be looking for trouble with the Republic considering how they want their land back."

    "I hate this idea," Praetorius scowled, before continuing, "Don''t think I don''t know that you supplied weapons to the Zulu. They can''t be trusted. Give them too many weapons and nothing is stopping them from using them against you."

    "Their main problem isn''t us. It''s the Empire to their North. The Gaza Empire was ruled by those who fled during Shaka''s conquest. I''m sure they would be looking for their revenge."

    "But to the Gaza Empire''s North is the Portuguese. So, the weapons are most likely going to be used against us."

    "Come on, Praetorius. Those guns we are giving to the Xhosa are going to shaft over the British! Don''t you like screwing them over? Especially since they refused to hand over Port Natal no matter how many times you go to negotiate with them."

    Praetorius frowned and took some time to think before retorting, "Those guns are going to be turned onto fellow Boers first. There is no shafting of the British here."

    "So what, those men are effectively working for British interests. Besides, those guns are never going to be turned towards us. Their main target is Cape Colony. Plus¡­" Jan leaned in to whisper.

    "I don''t think they will be able to put up much of a fight." Jan leaned back and watched Praetorius'' still sceptical expression.

    "We shall see how open they are to the idea. But let this be known, every human who knows who supplied them the guns will want you dead because I will not be giving them myself."

    "Fine by me."

    Jan laughed internally. They were a bunch of slaveowners and here they acted as if being an arms dealer was the biggest taboo in the world. Just as Jan had first thought up back in the Volksraad, wasn''t now the best to become an arms dealer especially since the various groups in Elfrica had so many grievances with one another? Building up a domestic arms industry would be the best idea, he couldn''t rely on the cultivator''s artisan method of production. He needed a proper factory with Ford''s assembly line of production to maximize output.

    So, the two carried on into the second round of discussions. Which was more bickering back and forth about how my ancestor or distant relative is dead because of you.

    The other side would go with a ''You dare'' as seen in the generic Cultivation novels. Praetorius threw in the towel and did not want the discussion to be a waste of time. It was not days they took to come here; it was weeks!

    "Are you interested in firearms?" Praetorius looked towards Jan, and he joined him by his side.

    The Xhosa Matriarch seemed disinterested.

    Praetorius stuck out his index finger and thumb and pointed it to her, declaring, "Bang Bang?"

    She leaned forward, clasping her hands together.

    Jan saw this as his cue to speak so he went into his sales pitch, "I understand that most of the firearms you have been stolen from the various raids you''ve conducted. But how about a steady supply?"

    The matriarch spoke up and Jan read her expression as a simple, "Why?". Why are you offering them the firearms?

    "See this as an exchange of trust. We have no interest in harming you or your fellow people. All we want is for our people to be safe and sound during their trek. We don''t mind if you open fire on those who dared to settle your lands. We even encourage it, none of them should dare to settle on your lands. You know the power of firearms. You understand how you were outmatched by them completely. How your spears could not even reach them and the next thing you know, the comrade next to you is dead. That''s the kind of power firearms bring. And we don''t mind if you have it."

    The translator struggled to translate some of Jan''s words, but the matriarch seemed to get the message.

    One simple reply was translated back, "Price?"

    Jan''s lips curled up. He got her hook, line and sinker.

    "What do you have?"

    It took some time for the reply to come back.

    "Cattle, maize, sheep."

    Jan''s mouth dropped.

    He gets plenty of these already from the Zulu, why would he need anymore? He thought maybe they would have secret gold reserves or something, but they were only willing to offer what every other tribe offered.

    He caressed his forehead, before silently chiding himself for not following proper decorum. He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking of a good reply. Jan looked towards Praetorius, who grinned as if already knew how their interaction would go.

    No matter how one thought about it, exchanging firearms for cattle and maize was not worth it. They were precious commodities in these parts since conflicts are common. Still, more of such goods could not hurt. To transition to an industrialized economy, cheap sources of food will have to be sourced. Oversupplying the markets with cheap food with help, although those subsistence farmers would probably lynch him once they knew of his ideas. That still didn''t change it was a horrible deal no matter how much he thought of it.

    On that thought, industrialized economies needed tons of labour to feed the factories. Boers were a minority on these lands, so he could only rely on the natives.

    "We can discuss trade later. But I will only be interested if a one-way migration treaty is signed between both parties. My people do not have the right to migrate to your lands. You can chase them out if you wish, but your people should be free to settle in my lands if they wish."

    Jan waited for the missionaries to finish their translations of his words and let confusion set in the matriarch''s face. She mouthed out words to the missionary who took some time to ponder her words before replying. What was once confusion returned to coolness as the missionary translated, "Deal."

    In one word, a simple one-way migration treaty was signed. As Jan held the papers in his hand, he could feel the oncoming headaches this single paper would cause. A Xhosa criminal fleeing in our lands? Should we do something? We didn''t sign an extradition treaty though, so sorry.

    Dumping the work on trade on Russell and his bureaucrats, he convened with Pretorius who discussed the day''s events.

    "You think you might be getting a good deal, but think again," Pretorius put a hand on Jan''s shoulder before elaborating, "She''s not some big shot. That elf was only a councillor on the Xhosa''s Kingdom throne. She might have much influence or none. I think it''s the latter, cause why would such a person participate in such talks?"

    "It''s true that every deal made here might be meaningless. But those firearms aren''t going into the void. She''s not going to be some random nobody on the Queen''s Councillor anymore if she equips an entire brigade of men with firearms."

    Pretorius slanted his eyes.

    "You barely know a thing about her. For all you know, from the behaviour she displayed in this meeting, I don''t think I want to equip such a person with firearms."

    Pretorius walked off, letting Jan alone in his thoughts.

    "All these possible deals, yet we lack all the resources. We need mines, iron mines! All the food we get from exporting these firearms would depress the incomes of the subsistence farmers. They''ll need jobs!" Russell ranted his complaints about the situation.

    "We lack men with expertise. We need land surveyors. Elfrica is a land with rich natural resources, and our farms are barely scratching the surface. Perhaps a foreign company would be interested in looking in the land."

    Russell paused to think before adding on.

    "I don''t think mining should be done in our lands. Port Mpande is limited, and further land grabs would lead to conflicts with the other Commandoes. I don''t think worsening our relationship with Pretorius is wise after all."

    "What do you propose?"

    "It''s obvious. We should survey Zulu lands. If possible, mining spots are located, and we can obtain precious minerals to fund our arms industries. Plus, the Zulu will have more goods to offer us instead of cattle and maize or leopard skin. I''m not a fan of the leopard skin, and there are few buyers among the populace. It''s likely popular in foreign markets."

    Jan nodded his head.

    "I doubt anyone has that kind of expertise. Although more arms will be needed to please the Zulu Princess, we could work something out. But we will need a mining company. There''s a dime of dozen new companies in the Cape. They''re cheap, but the quality of labour is questionable. A foreign company would be the best but they would take a big cut of potential earnings¡­ No."

    Jan scratched his chin, before elaborating.

    "What if we found a motherload of minerals? They could ask their home countries for military assistance to possess it. No. Look into the mining companies by the Cape and find a company with some experience finding mining spots."

    Russell nodded and wrote down some notes for himself.

 Chapter 20: Rat

    A hunchbacked creature stood before Jan. Its head twitched and its whiskers shivered alongside it. Its paws grasped each other tightly, and it struggled to stand up on its hind legs. Its tail swayed from side to side.

    It was the first time he met up close with this world''s rat people. All images he saw were mere depictions in books. But here, an alive specimen stood proud telling all its viewers that it was alive. As the creature placed its paws back on the ground, Jan pointed at a nearby seat in his office. It took the seat and slouched as chairs were not designed for these rat people.

    "Ratfrica''s Mining Co at your service. I heard you''re looking for land to be surveyed for potential minerals. I and the boys helped found the Cape''s first few iron mines, but the banks won''t tell you that as we signed a contract keeping us mum. So, keep it a secret between us?" The rat spoke with an Austrian accent, and Jan had to stop himself from laughing us out. It was truly an absurd situation.

    "We''re looking into conducting land surveys in Zululand soon. But for now, stick around this domain."

    "How will you pay us? Got an advance fee? Or by commission?"

    "Commission."

    The rat''s whiskers curled up upon hearing his words.

    "50% for whatever we find. Bring us to the table for any future negotiations with mining companies, we will get you the best deal."

    Jan pouted.

    "50% is too much. And you''re not the only mining company in Elfrica. 10%, after your survey, you get free money going your way."

    "There are many newbies in this business. I have formal certification from Bansk¨¢ ?tiavnica in Austria or English, Mining Academy. Here''s a reproduction," The Austrian rat unfurled a document that had words decorated in incomprehensible German. Luckily, Elfrikaans inherited some words from German, so he recognises some without batting an eye.

    "Anyone can reproduce such a document. I have not seen certification from such a school before. What can I compare it with?"

    The rat scowled if the way it turned its nose upright seemed.

    "I have not heard of South African College. Must be some no-name school."

    Jan''s eyebrows raised, and the rat proudly kept his certification.

    "30%. I''ll let you off the hook for insulting the university I hail from." The Austrian rat took out a compass in his hands and observed its readings.

    "20%. Much of this land is unexplored. You can have the first mover''s advantage and exploit much of the land''s mineral deposits. Which other Commando can offer you such a deal?"

    "Without the port, constructing mines would be inane due to the horrendous location. With the port, I can go and meet with other Commandoes and negotiate a more favourable deal. Who would refuse free money?"

    Jan snickered.

    "All of those deposits have to go through this port. Extract too much wealth, and the big corporations jump in, so you can''t ship them to Port Natal. What''s stopping me to apply tariffs on your minerals?"

    "You''re not the one in charge. The Zulus next door have similar powers. I can negotiate a deal with them."

    "You can bring them through the land. But most of the port''s affairs by sea are handed by us Boers. You can''t escape me through such backdoor strategies. I''ll give you 25% of the cut. But you better help us negotiate good deals with mining companies, your bottom line is at stake."

    The rat took out a pocket watch and watched the minute hand pass by the hour hand. Its tail thumped against the ground. Thump. Thump. Thump.

    "Just for you, I''ll accept this deal, but I do hope for the surveys in the Zulu Kingdom. It would be most profitable if a deal is hashed out."

    The influx of various goods has depressed the prices of many goods in the local markets. Most important of all were agricultural foodstuffs. Many subsistence farmers went to the markets to only see they bring home less and less day by day. This only caused mass dumping of agricultural goods once they are harvested onto the markets, depressing their prices, even more, and causing a massive glut. The farmers were angry with the status quo in Port Mpande and sent a representative to Jan''s office.

    Here is the transcription written by a bureaucrat jotting down the meeting''s proceedings in English.

    "Oh? A rather young man our dear Commando is. I''m sure you will do your best in managing the town, but I worry for its future due to your lack of experience." The farmers'' representative was a white man in his forties. When they shook hands, Jan could feel his calloused hands prickling against his skin.

    The representative frowned upon feeling the smoothness of his scholarly hands.

    "We all know why you''re here, Mr¡­"

    "Harrie Victorie, just call me Harrie."

    Jan nodded and noted it in his head.

    Harrie Victorie calmly explained the farmer''s case. This was all due to the Zulus who only also had agricultural products to trade. If their supply was cut off from the markets, then prices would stabilize.

    There was another way as Harrie elaborated, that was to find new markets to export the farmer''s crops, which Jan frowned at. Harrie nodded in silence, knowing that it was practically impossible. There was little to sell food to. Even if they desired essentials like food, what could they trade for it?

    "Your first suggestion would only aggravate tensions between the Zulus and the Boers. This port is built by the two groups'' combined efforts. Excluding the Zulu would bring the end to this port."

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    "That''s why my suggestion is to add tariffs on their goods. Make it more expensive for them to sell their goods in our districts. Even if they retaliate with tariffs on our goods, trading volume is little since few would pay much for cattle and maize."

    "There''s the leopard skin."

    "That''s not an essential good, sir. A normal farmer like me could only get a bare strip based on what they''re charging their prices on."

    "Last time I checked. They also had ivory goods trade."

    "But such luxury goods are for foreigners. One of these help solves the current problem in the markets. That is why, sir. I hope you will exclude Zulus from our markets. But I understand your predicament, that''s why I hope tariffs on Zulu goods will be enacted."

    ''Smart farmer,'' Jan thought to himself. He supposed there were a few intelligent people who lacked the chance to shine in the sun without the knowledge of reading and writing. The confusion Harrie''s eyes looked over his papers as he placed various documents on the table said a lot.

    "I''ll take your words into account. I''ll solve this issue soon."

    Harrie stood up and left the room. But before he could put a foot out of Jan''s office, Jan called up.

    "Wait."

    Harrie stopped.

    "I need a capable man to be my Veldkornet. You seemed like someone who can manage a district well."

    The farmer scratched the back of his head, surprise was written all over his face.

    "My apologies, I cannot read and write."

    Harrie''s eyes scanned the various documents around Jan''s office.

    "There is no need to do so. Some of these men and women around me can help do the reading and writing for you as your assistant. All you have to do is to ensure your fellow men live well."

    "I''ll think about it."

    Harrie replied similarly to Jan''s reply to him about solving the agricultural issue. Jan''s lips curled down, disappointed that he could not buy him over so easily.

    It is a troublesome issue. Most of the Boer farmers made up most of his power base. Overwhelmingly, the Boers supported him because he was a Boer like them, and he brought some amount of foreign capital into the Port, enriching them somewhat. These urban dwellers benefited the most and abandoned their ways of subsistence farming. But the vast majority still ran farms, so it wasn''t like he could throw their concerns to the side. If the issue was resolved properly, he was likely to be deposed.

    The easy solution will be to do as the farmer said, levy tariffs on Zulu goods. But he knew what the long-term ramifications were. Starting a trade war spat on the trust he was trying to form with the two groups.

    He picked up one of the various accounts the bureaucrats made and flipped through it. Specifically, he focused on the trades that he could affect, the few arms sales to the Zulu. At first, all he got in return was food, used to enable a small urban class of people to live by the Port. But that trade grew over time and now the market had too much food. It might be time to renegotiate such deals. But even if he did so, it would be a drop in the bucket.

    Zulus were selling their food too cheap. Maize and cattle were too common, and they were devaluing the price of food in the market. Farmers could spend some time diversifying their crops, but their families will be starving for some months.

    Taking in a deep breath, he decided to focus on the things he can change, which is a renegotiated trade deal.

    Calling out to an elven bureaucrat, " Umzuzu, could you get Nokuthula, I have some affairs to discuss with her."

    The elf left his office.

    "You want to rediscuss the arms trade? I''ve already prepared this month''s batch of cattle. Such changes would have to be applied in place next month."

    Nokuthula groaned. Coming into Jan''s office always meant trouble, more work and trouble were always brought her way. That man would make sudden changes, forcing others to work harder to apply the changes. But then more changes would come, giving others more work.

    Jan waved his hand to the side.

    "That''s fine. But I don''t need some much cattle and grain. I want ivory, I want leopard skin."

    Nokuthula bit her lip.

    "You should understand they are not easy to obtain. Bringing down a leopard is not easy, and it could take multiple days. Let''s not even talk about elephants."

    "But you have firearms. Your job is much easier."

    The elf chieftess shook her head.

    "There are many procedures before pulling the trigger. One must trek down a leopard or an elephant. That involves following their treks. That can take days. One will either find one or fail to do so. Most fail. And even if we found one, we have to carefully get into position. Once we''re found out, we won''t be able to bring it down. Especially if we agitate an elephant, it can be fatal."

    Jan slanted his eyebrows.

    "Firearms are not easy to make too. They are rather expensive. Most of their components must be imported from foreign merchants. I cannot grow them, nor can I fish them from the sea. I do not wish for any more food that I do not desire. If you are unwilling to renegotiate the deal, then I''ll block the supply of firearms."

    Nokuthula growled.

    "Don''t think you are your firearms are so great. If my people are so inclined, we will swarm this town and have every one of your Boers'' heads on our spears."

    The two stared at each other, each engaging in a power play. Each represented the various groups they serve, and they could not back down to be seen as weak.

    "Still, we are engaged in trade. We exchange things I don''t want for things I want. I hope you understand that. If I was unable to get the things I want, then I won''t engage in this in the first place."

    "I do not mind trading away leopard skin or ivory. But these are incredibly hard to obtain. I expect fair compensation."

    "You can negotiate it with the bureaucrats."

    Jan sighed, a little intimidated by her threat. It was no bluff, push them too hard and he might end up dead along with the rest of the Boers.

    He held a meeting with the bureaucrats, most notably of the men in the meeting, who all lacked pointy ears. This was a meeting concerning Boer affairs, and he didn''t want the Zulus in here to undermine it. Ally or foe could not be determined, but he was sure they would seek Boer, indirectly his influence to decrease with the current crisis in the markets.

    Russell Corbyn, the English bureaucrat passed out papers that contained rudimentary maps of their surrounding geographical location.

    "There is too much food in the markets. A way to intervene would be to buy up all the food and burn them." A bureaucrat proposed.

    "This all began with a mismatch of priorities. Urban dwellers want cheap food. Farmers want expensive food. Since there''s a mismatch of priorities, perhaps splintering the markets would be the best."

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "If farmers want high prices, then they should sell their goods to specific markets willing to pay high prices for such goods. We should decouple the links to the urban markets of Port Mpande."

    The bureaucrat explained to the room, and the rest nodded their heads in understanding.

    "What kind of markets would be willing to pay high prices for food?"

    "The easiest would be the foreign markets. But we will need to can our food to preserve it so it can last during the shipping routes. As of now, due to the lack of can factories, we can only make do with shipping it to our neighbours. The Elfrican tribes have no wish for our food as they are self-sustaining. But our neighbours in the Republic?"

    "The other Commandoes and Veldkornets? Why will they pay high food prices? They all engage in subsistence farming," Jan queried.

    "There''s always the urban dwellers in Pietermaritzburg, lots of trekkers pass by that location. We can drive exports there. Also, many new Commandoes who settle new lands will need some time for their farms to establish themselves. Our farmers can charge them high prices as they establish themselves."

    "So, are you saying we should give them credit? They have little to trade with. Unless you mean the farmers will sell at a base price for their crops, but they can collect interest over time from their future harvests." Russell interjected.

    "I never thought about a full-fledged monetary system. But it is possible, as their martial might would be petty compared to ours with the artillery we have. We can easily enforce any deals between the men."

    Ideas began sinking in as their minds branched out to further dimensions.

    "Some seed capital to encourage the men to grow cash crops would be good. Food is cheap and plentiful thanks to the Zulu supply. So, growing more sugarcane would be wise. However, it would be unwise to completely focus on growing cash crops in case of a crisis. I don''t this policy should be pushed too hard."

    "Creating a futures market? Farmers will be more assured with fixed prices of their crops in the future. It would help them determine the best crops to grow to obtain the best profit."

    "Who would enter this futures market? Who would require a stable price of food?"

    "Restaurants! Inns! But most important of all would be companies! For example, future mining companies would be establishing their mines in rather isolated places. A fixed supply of food is most necessary to keep them all fed."

    "Who will organize all of this? Us?"

    "Of course! There''s little financial activity established yet, so we will have to pick up the slack. Think of it, it will be like the Amsterdam Stock Exchange when it is first established. We will help facilitate securities exchange for traders so their ease of doing business would be easier."

    Jan began to have a headache as they began talking about securities. But the conversation suddenly stopped and they all looked towards him.

    "What?"

    "Please hire more men, sir. All of these ideas are excellent on paper and can be easily established. But we number in few. We are already busy enough managing the Port, managing all these would be too much."

    Jan grabbed some books off the shelf and leafed through them. The seed capital he received from the various Boers helped fund most of his expenditures. But they will naturally expect the port to be self-sufficient soon. Not anytime soon, but they might come a time when he might have to levy taxes on the residents.

    "Very well. I can increase the budget on manpower."

 Chapter 21: Futures

    English Transcript recorded by Arnout, a bureaucrat of the Port Mpande Administration

    "Mr Prinsen, as you can see. You can sell your goods at a fixed price with this new futures contract. No need to worry about the constant market fluctuations of the line going up and down. You can sell your goods at a certain date for a fixed amount of price."

    The bureaucrat explained to a farmer as farmers stood at one end of the meeting room. Merchants sat on another end, and the bureaucrats occupied the remaining seats.

    Jan watched as the farmers'' eyebrows furrowed in incomprehension. He could understand, futures were a rather confusing matter, especially when people traded in futures. It made little sense how one could make money off it, but he will leave that to economists to explain.

    The only farmer that seemed to not be lost in their explanation was their representative, Harrie Victorie, a rather intelligent farmer, although he could not read or write. He seemed to be on the uptake, and his facial expressions did not reek of hostility, unlike the other farmers who could not comprehend what they were thinking.

    That very same man asked, "Who will be enforcing this contract? What if the merchants refused to pay?"

    He glared towards the merchants, no doubt responsible for flooding the market with food, depressing the value of their agricultural produce.

    Jan raised his hands and stood up to explain.

    "We will enforce the contract. If the merchant is unwilling to hold his end of the deal, we will make him do so," Jan smirked. He touched his rifle, along with the rest of the bureaucrats, before moving his hand away from it. A perfect scene rehearsed for intimidation, and it influenced the merchants.

    "But it is not as if the contract was forced upon you. Those who engage in the futures contract do so voluntarily. Why should a merchant engage in it? Well, it''s because what if the price of food rises due to unforeseen circumstances? But the merchant still needs to ship a certain amount of food by a certain date. They would eat an enormous loss at that time, while the farmer profits. No one truly benefits from a futures contract. All it promises is stability. When you go to the markets, you do not need to worry that your produce decreases in value over time. It will be sold by a fixed value to whoever chooses to engage in the contract with you."

    The merchants nodded, and some began leaving the room, thinking that this whole futures contract thing was a waste of time.

    "It is like a chain, a chain of stability. Some may not want to be restrained by this chain, then you do you, and not shackle yourself. The farmer is expected to fulfil his end of the deal. If he fails to do so, compensation to the merchant is expected for the loss in profits."

    Some farmers grimaced and left the room as well, seeing the contract as a shackle. Breaking away from the tethers that the contract brought, they excluded it from their minds as they left the meeting.

    "What if the farmer treks away? How shall we be compensated?" A merchant asks, drawing irate glances from the farmers.

    "The merchant in question will be able to repossess all of their belongings. Whether it be their farmland, their servants or even..." Jan paused, unsure whether he should continue, "their slaves."

    "I do not think that is very valuable. It will require much time and investment on my part to make back what I am owed."

    Jan frowned.

    "If you are that dissatisfied with that, then you could always stipulate in your contract that peonage will be put into place. You are free to enslave them until they have worked to repay what is owed, but the taboo on enslaving another Boer¡­" He looked towards the merchant''s eyes, "is what you will have to deal with."

    Jan''s lips curled up.

    "But I feel such extreme measures are necessary for those who are caught after running away from their debts. We cannot encourage such behaviour, right?"

    More men began leaving the room. It was understandable, many of these men trekked because they were running away from something from the Cape Colony. Whether they were searching for freedom from British authorities, or they were running from debts, they did not want to face the consequences of their actions.

    Only a small remainder of men remain. And the farmer''s representative Harrie Victorie asked, "All these supposed consequences will follow what the contract says?"

    Jan nodded, "It is up to you and the merchant how you will fulfil your end of the contract, as well as the consequences resulting from it. If either side feels each other handled the matter poorly, you are free to complain to the local administration who will look into it."

    The groups converged and began discussing what they want and what they did not want. Farmers and merchants were looking to negotiate a stable price for their goods. All these were facilitated by the administration, no less.

    Russell, the English bureaucrat approached Jan, looking like he had something to say. "The Church can enforce contracts between men. If one fails to follow the contract, one will perish. Why do we have to enforce the contract instead?"

    "Contracts are set in stone. But circumstances change, and perhaps a contract is to be renegotiated. Is that possible with the strict oaths one must make when contracting with the church?"You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    "Enforcing them is bothersome though. We will need more men to do this. But these men are here to enforce the law. A military force that enforces the law, basically a police force."

    A merchant came over interrupting their conversation. With a sly grin, he got straight to the point, "I can guess what is happening in the following weeks. The price of food is going to rise due to some scheme you''re coming up with?"

    It looks like some were quick to uptake the currents.

    "Prices of food are too low. You should know the farmers are dissatisfied with the status quo. If you''re smart, I presume you have already signed some contracts with farmers?"

    "Why, yes! But I''m not too stupid to enforce peonage on them and hunt them down like some runaway elven slave. The harsher the contract terms, the more they will run away."

    The merchant looked at his subordinates looking over at him, grasping papers for him to look over.

    "It looks like I have more contracts to sign. I hope to see you again soon, Mr Boddewijk," The merchant bid farewell, straightening his top hat on his head.

    Before Russell opened his mouth to continue their conversation, Jan asked, "Who''s that man?"

    "Valentijn Tibbe, a Dutch merchant who currently resides in Port Natal. He is a seed supplier," Russell explained.

    "Seed supplier?"

    "Farmers who want to grow new types of crops and want to plant on a new acre need seeds. Seeds suppliers help supply these seeds."

    Jan nodded, "I see. Perhaps I should keep tabs on these seeds'' suppliers."

    Pietermaritzburg, in a non-descript inn, English recollection by Jan Boddewijk

    "Jan de Winnaar, I see you and your entourage have made it through the trek to Natal from the Kingdom of Lesotho," Jan declared as he sat in front of the man who had the same name as him. Jan de Winnaar was the leader of the few trekkers who settled in the Kingdom of Lesotho. On behalf of Queen Moshoeshoe, Andries Pretorius got them to leave the lands on a threat.

    "I see. You''re one of the men who were there with Pretorius. From what I have learnt about you, you''re the new Commando who established Port Mpande with Zulu aid."

    The other Jan held no hostility in his words, almost as if he was restraining himself.

    "You might have heard many things about the success there, but I''ll admit is not easy collaborating with the Zulus. Who knows, anytime now, they could be massing a Zulu force behind the trees and swarm us the next day if I anger them."

    Jan de Winnaar seemed to not believe his words but continued, "Let''s get straight to the point. I''m here because I heard you are willing to provide supplies so my men can establish ourselves in another plot of land. The trek to Pietermaritzburg consumed most of our supplies, even if Lesotho provided some supplies, they aren''t sufficient to re-establish ourselves."

    "I can do that. I have cheap food. Access to eager traders willing to make a buck. I can afford to kit you out with sufficient supplies to re-establish yourselves. But¡­"

    Jan de Winnaar''s eyes slanted as he focused on Commando Jan Boddewijk''s next few words.

    "There will be interest in them. Consider it a loan. I request a small deposit from your men. I know that you should have some savings. You can easily afford the down payment, but I expect instalments from your farms once you establish yourselves. These won''t be going to me; they would be going to my men who you are trading with. I am currently acting as their middleman."

    "If that is all you wished, you can have dispatched a merchant in their stead. But you have chosen to show up personally. Speak, what is that you wish?"

    Jan de Winnaar''s muscles tensed up as he leaned forward on the table. The lean scholarly Jan repulsed his urge to lean backward.

    "I hope that you will not forget my kindness. And that you will support me in my future ventures. You will become a Commando if this all goes to plan. Of course, I expect that you shall address me as Commando-General if conflict breaks out."

    "Why should I be subservient to you?" Jan de Winnaar growled.

    "Inevitably, the only ones willing to trade with your new township will be other Boers. And all will flow through Port Mpande. How can they not? For I do not levy any taxes on their goods. Plus, you don''t have a choice. I don''t see any other Commandoes lining up to give you a chance. If that was the case, you wouldn''t be stuck in Pietermaritzburg for months, correct?"

    Jan de Winnar held his head low and sighed in resignation.

    "Very well, I accept your deal, Commando¡­General."

    "So where do you plan to settle?" Jan unfurled a map on the table. Pointing at the Natalia Republic, he remarked, "Most of the good land here is taken by other Commandoes. But there are still some spots left. I''m sure Pretorius can be easily persuaded to let you have some land."

    "I''m thinking of moving further inland. By the North, at the Orange river."

    "That is rather dangerous. Aren''t there still hostile Elfrican tribes there? Boer settlement over though is rather low since most stay within the Republic''s borders. I will not be able to provide much support if you''re that far away from me."

    "We don''t plan on straying too far from Winburg. If anything goes wrong, we will fall back to Winburg. And perhaps settle in the Republic."

    "Very well. If you make yourselves at home, do prepare a welcome for me."

    "Why?"

    "I am planning an expedition there sometime soon once I settled my domestic affairs. An expedition to Zoutpansberg. You ought to prepare some men for the oncoming expedition."

    "Don''t tell me a man like you believe the rumours of gold to be found? I believe it is trickery by the settlers over there to encourage more to go over and settle there."

    Commando Jan shrugged.

    Russell observed the map scribbled on by Jan. An extremely curved line following the trails trekkers made to head to Zoutpansberg. A large dot was drawn rather North, annotated with the name "Jan de Winnaar."

    "Why are supporting the settlements of Commandoes further North? Even if we take them as subordinates, we won''t be able to support them militarily if they are attacked. Vice versa. Are you planning something with Zoutpansberg?"

    Jan opened his mouth to speak but closed them soon after, unsure of whether he should speak. Russell waited for Jan to gather his words.

    "This might sound crazy. But I believe in the rumours that there is gold to be found in Zoutpansberg. And we need that supply of gold if we are to fund any serious industrial efforts. Importing industrial machines from Great Britain will cost an arm and a leg."

    "That''s stupid! Even if there is gold there, and we somehow were able to get our hands on it? How are we going to bring it over here so that we can use it!"

    Jan pointed at the various dots leading to Zoutpansberg.

    "Increased Boer settlement will increase the security of such a route. And these Commandoes will be relatively friendly to our presence. After all, Port Mpande might get too crowded in the future. I am planning for another base of operations between the route here to Zoutpansberg to oversee everything. It will serve as a new place for immigrants from Cape Colony to settle, and it will receive the similar support Port Mpande have. But I need a capable Commando to lead the trek there. Like that, we can help the other subordinate Commandoes."

    Russel shook his head at Jan''s map painting delusions. But he let himself sink into the insane thought process for a second there and thought of the perfect candidate for the new Commando for the location.

    "Who else would be as capable and trustworthy as your father? I don''t think your father will harm your enterprise in any form considering how much he has invested in the Port Mpande project. And you can carry out what the Chinese call Filial Piety."

    "That''s not a bad idea," Jan remarked and jotted down in a notebook. He needs someone with experience and someone that he could trust since they would serve as a future hub for inland South Elfrica. What other better candidate than someone blood-related to him?"

    "Still, all these grand plans for the future are splendid. But shouldn''t we focus on developing our relations with our neighbouring Boers? I fear that they may grow to envy your current success and seek to knock you down a peg or two."

    "Some of the potential Commando candidates I have contacted are interested in settling in what remains of the Natalia Republic, so we will have some men close by that will diplomatically support our initiatives."

    "That is well and all. But they are small fries compared to the Boers who established themselves here for years. And they are the men that even Andries Pretorius has to somewhat submit to for they hold considerable power in the Republic."

    "So, the slaveowners? The ones with big plantations that employ many men and elves like my father?"

    "Your father''s plantation is large. But those men own many more plantations and can field bigger armies. Of course, your father doesn''t need to worry about these men. As a Veldkornet, he is subordinate to the biggest man in the room, Andries Pretorius."

    "Then help me make the appropriate introductions to these men, I do not wish to get onto these men''s bad side. Make sure to send human envoys to meet these men. Do not send elves, for I fear that they would be seen as gifts instead of as envoys."

    "That can be accomplished if you increase the number of staff in our bureaucracy. Keeping track of the futures contract is a headache."

    Russell Corbyn massages his head.

    "You should know that is hard, making children go to school for the first time is difficult. Now imagine making grown men and women go to school to learn how to read and write in another language."

 Chapter 22: Sarel Cilliers

    Hier staan ons voor die Heilige God van hemel en aarde om ? gelofte aan Hom te doen, dat, as Hy ons sal beskerm en ons vyand in ons hand sal gee, ons die dag en datum elke jaar as ? dankdag soos ? Sabbat sal deurbring; en dat ons ? huis tot Sy eer sal oprig waar dit Hom behaag, en dat ons ook aan ons kinders sal s¨º dat hulle met ons daarin moet deel tot nagedagtenis ook vir die opkomende geslagte. Want die eer van Sy naam sal verheerlik word deur die roem en die eer van oorwinning aan Hom te gee.

    (Here we stand before the holy God of heaven and earth, to make a vow to Him that, if He will protect us and give our enemy into our hand, we shall keep this day and date every year as a day of thanksgiving like a sabbath, and that we shall erect a house to His honour wherever it should please Him, and that we also will tell our children that they should share in that with us in memory for future generations. For the honour of His name will be glorified by giving Him the fame and honour for the victory.)

    Welgevonden, in the Northern region of Natal, as perceived by Jan Boddewijk''s mind

    The man clutched a book in his arms and gazed his eyes at the newcomer. A young scholarly man, that did not fit the rest of the churchgoers. Yet, like all other men, he could sense his connection to God. Everyone was indirectly connected to God, and he had an experience with God at ten years old. He was Charl (Sarel) Arnoldus Cilliers, a close aide to Andries Pretorius.

    Sarel was a simple farmer at first glance, but he was instrumental during the Battle of Blood River. For he made the proclamation that motivated the men when they saw hordes of Zulu warriors surrounding them. Serving in the local Volksraad, he was a nondescript man. Only when Jan began digging up the influential men around town was, he able to find out that this simple man was extremely influential.

    "Jan Boddewijk? If I remembered correctly, your father was with us during that great battle. He told me about his constant worries about you and your mother. I''m glad to see you today."

    Sarel stretched his hand out, and Jan shook it.

    "I like your work in teaching the natives the ways of God. Opening your arms to their presence, and constructing churches to enlighten them. Although I hear some alarming things, about your lack of attendance to the church."

    Inwardly, the young Commando groaned.

    "But lets us put that aside. Starting up a new town must be very difficult, especially as it becomes the new trade hub."

    Sarel invited Jan into his house, where the kids were running about. Crops could be seen swaying in the wind as the winds blow. Sturdy trees dotted the farm, and some stumps lay on the ground, cut down some time in the past.

    Sarel called out to his wife, who prepared two simple cups of water and they went to a small meeting room. Thanking him for the drink, Jan sipped his cup.

    "So how can I help you today, Commando? Need help dealing with Pretorius? He might be intimidating, but he cares for the best of the Republic."

    "It would be improper for me as a new Commando to not pay respects to the notable men around the Republic. Especially since you have all contributed so much to the Port Mpande project. Your timber was used to make numerous houses for residents, for example."

    Sarel decided to change the topic.

    "When I first saw you at the Volksraad for the first time, you were meek. I suppose it was a frightening experience, being surrounded by very strong-looking guys when you were as thin as a twig. You relied on Joren, another boy who rarely goes to Church," Sarel frowned, and took a sip of water.

    "But as a good Christian who helps someone in need, he helped you along and introduced you to his various networks. You could not speak Dutch, but you were learning. On the last day, you could speak simple phrases. No surprises come from a scholar like you. And here you are, speaking perfect, fluent Elfrikaans."

    "Although you could give the exterior of a Dutchman, in your interior, I see an Englishman. For example, I heard from numerous sources that your men speak English amongst themselves. You have even invited missionaries from the Cape to establish churches in your land. But no matter how much you try to be English, ultimately, when an Englishman looks at you, they''ll see you as a Dutch."

    Jan began tapping the table in thought.

    "There are a rather alarming number of Anglican churches in your little township. Most of your residents are Dutch, so I hope you will consider them by constructing by Dutch Protestant Churches."

    Sarel started silent, observing the young man before him.

    "The English have the most resources, so I invited them to construct churches for me. If you wish that there are more Dutch Protestant churches, then they are free to construct them in my lands, if they are discussed with my men, subject to their approval."

    "What I wish¡­" Sarel spoke, cutting Jan off from speaking more, "is that you spend some of your resources in constructing such churches, instead of relying on the charity of others. As your father has relayed his concerns to me during the trek, you are an Englishman at heart. You love England, and rather be an Englishman. But they are not good people. They have ulterior motivations. Are you not afraid that the English might have too much influence in your little town? Making everyone speak and learn English, what if one day instead of choosing to be under your rule, they would rather be under the United Kingdom''s rule? Those English missionaries might sound helpful and seem charitable, but they work for England."

    "I worry about the increasing English influence. And I worry most about your little Port, as it has become extremely important for all of us."

    The preacher looked at him, asking him with his eyes to explain.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    "The English are wealthy. And whether we admit it or not, we are reliant on England. When we set foot on these lands, we bear English arms. Our produce is bought by English traders. Our currency is the pound sterling. No matter what, we are too economically dependent on England. We might as well prosper with them, instead of against them."

    Sarel stayed silent.

    "As you wish young man, I shall not interfere with the way you manage your town. But tell me, other than today''s social call, do you have any other matters you wish to discuss."

    Although they had a frosty discussion just then, Sarel acted as friendly as they first met. Jan hoped that he will not mix personal and private matters, and that dislike of how he ran things would turn into a dislike of him.

    "Sarel, tell me, what do you think about the Volksraad?"

    Sarel''s wife came into the room and took their empty cups away. The sounds of children playing outside could be heard until the door closed.

    "It''s a lovely place where we can discuss how to best run things. I''m afraid that the implementation by the Commandoes has been rather slow. You were there Jan, and you also didn''t implement anything that was discussed. Especially my proposal on the construction of Dutch churches."

    Jan shrugged, "It was months ago. Memory is fickle, and there are many things to remember. A summary of the events sent to every Commando would be useful. But you also think that the Volksraad is an ineffective institution."

    "It''s hard to make it effective. For that, we will need to summon every Commando around the country and have them discuss. Forget about even gathering perhaps half of them, it would be an uphill battle to enforce the matters discussed."

    "Then how would you propose to change it?"

    "You see, Jan. I do not see any way to change it. We are too decentralized. A system of communication between the disparate towns would have to be first established. Before we can even talk about changing it."

    "So, you''re proposing a Post Office, the problem would be finding someone to fund such an initiative."

    "Well son, but I know someone interested in funding such an initiative. And that certain someone sits right before me."

    Jan pointed to himself in shock, rebutting, "Me? Why would I need to fund such an initiative?"

    "You are the Commando of Port Mpande, an important trade hub in this Republic. All Boer goods must flow through you. It is in the merchants that reside in your town and your interest to maintain a Post Office so that you could track the flow of goods to your port. Plus, rather than making house calls to every Boer, it would be easier to message them this way."

    Sarel wisely smiled. As expected for a man that served as an aide to Andries Pretorius, he was both wise and intelligent. He understood men well, or else he could not have pulled off the stunning victory during the Battle of Blood River.

    "I heard from my father that Pretorius somehow was able to establish a no-magic zone during the Battle of Blood River. It was done through you right, Sarel? How did you do it? Especially since we''re surrounded by magic users, such an ability is extremely useful when trekking."

    "All I can say is that it must be done by a very pious man. Perhaps if you go to Church every Sunday, God will grant you such an ability."

    "Jan." Pretorius greeted, putting away his papers. He seemed relaxed and at ease, unlike his previous busy self that had to rush around everywhere.

    "Good day Pretorius, I would like to have a ledger detailing all known locations of Commandoes currently residing in the Republic''s territory."

    Pretorius began digging through his papers and books and retrieved a book. Looking at its title, he asked Jan, "What for? Do you wish to contact these men? Some of these men are independent trekkers who settle in these lands and have no allegiance to me. So, I urge caution when initiating contact."

    Jan reached for the book as Pretorius handed it over to him. Grasping the hard book cover, he flicked the pages and was greeted with cursive writing. Blanching his face with confusion, he traced the words line by line and flicked through the pages.

    "It is not an exhaustive list. And more trekkers are heading to the Natal and beyond due to decreased danger thanks to the negotiations with the Xhosa."

    "Pretorius, what do you think of establishing a postal service in the Republic?" Jan thumbed through the pages, taking note of the various names here. English, German, and French in origin. All mostly hailed from Europe.

    "We will need men to survey the lands. And we also will have to demarcate whose lands belong to who. Especially for two neighbouring Boers, where their influence ends is a delicate matter to deal with. And let us not discuss sending postal to another in another town, with wildly different standards of housing."

    "Why not let such a system be decentralized? All the Postal Service has to do is send mail to a certain town. Then let the Commando and their subordinate Veldkornets send the mail to the right location."

    "Then who will run it? My men have their fields to tend to, and I already have a lot on my plate dealing with affairs in Pietermaritzburg."

    "We could utilise the already existing trade links," Jan unfurled a map of the Natal region. Pointing at the location of Port Mpande, his finger stretched to Pietermaritzburg.

    "Traders frequently go between these two locations. Giving them a small fee to carry the cargo along with their caravans will not be too expensive. Of course, the one wanting things to be delivered will have to pay for the service."

    "Are they trustworthy? Important mail could get lost."

    "I don''t think you would send important mail through these traders. You would get one of your men on horseback to personally deliver it for you. But the system of using traders to deliver them could be scaled up. How about large cargo like a tonne of wheat? You could spread it among multiple traders to deliver the goods to the intended recipient."

    Pretorius nodded but moved his finger to the inner regions of Natal.

    "The regions inland are more isolated, and traders are few. Using such a system would cause mail to take months. To run a postal service well, I would like the time taken to deliver mail to be similar across similar distances across the country."

    "There is not much one can do about that, even the postal services of large nations like France and Great Britain will take much more time to deliver postage to rural areas," Jan shrugged, but Pretorius continued.

    "This would be a fine foundation to establish a postal service. But I wish that instead of such informal arrangements, it would transition to a more formal arrangement over time. Whether it be a company specialized in handling mail or a service run by the local government, they would be preferable to this proposed system. However, I will leave it for the upcoming Volksraad meeting, I assume you will be attending in your father''s stead? Or your father will personally be attending?"

    The young man almost wanted to slap himself but stopped before he realized where he was. He completely forgot about Volksraad affairs because the place was more like a social event rather than the legislative branch of the country. That was how useless whatever stipulations were proposed there. That didn''t mean it was completely useless as for a man like him, he needed some friends in this country.

    "Look at my son, the bigshot Commando coming home to see his father after so many months. Forgot about me already after you have your little town to play ruler with?" His father smirked and gazed at Jan who dismounted his horse.

    "How can I forget about you, since you provided the support for me to become Commando in the first place?" Jan''s eyes lingered over the fields still worked by the slaves and turned back to face his father.

    "You must be here for some reason, whaddya do you want? I have given you a lot of money for you to muck around with the native elves, so don''t ask me for more." His father reached for his pipe and puffed out a ring of smoke.

    "Will you be attending the Volksraad?"

    "Why should I? I don''t feel like going. Why? Are you interested? Aren''t you busy managing Port Mpande? Forget about the Volksraad, it''s a waste of time."

    "But I am interested in attending."

    "So, you can get 2-pound sterling a day? I''m pretty sure I sent you more money than that. Only those small fries who got elected off some horseshit go there for that reason. Those are the kind of people you will meet with. Just there to collect their salary and change nothing overall."

    "But Sarel Cilliers attends it."

    Jan paused as his father pondered his words.

    "Sarel?" His father shrugged upon hearing his name, "Ahh¡­ the unofficial pastor during our trek. I suppose he''s going there to mostly socialize. Last I heard, he is staying somewhere in the far North. I wonder why he doesn''t choose to stay in Pietermaritzburg and meet with his old comrades."

    "I met with him to discuss some matters previously. He runs a small farm in Welgevonden and makes some money off timber. I had purchased some timber from him through merchants when constructing the town."

    His father nodded in acknowledgement.

    "I see. Well then, go collect the 2-pound sterling in my stead."

 Chapter 23: Volksraad 2: Electric Boogaloo

    The man that greeted him was Sarel Cilliers. Sarel had a hand stretched out, and Jan took his hand, shaking it.

    "Good to see you here," Sarel remarked, speaking in fluent Elfrikaans.

    "Good to see you too, Sarel," Jan replied, and their hands disconnected from each other''s grasp.

    "Much more confident than your first time, shall I introduce you to everyone around here?"

    "Thank you very much, Sarel."

    The two slithered around the room. Sarel pointed to the various peoples who showed up, fellow Veldkornets and Commandoes who were popular enough in the various local communities to get elected.

    "Most of these men¡­" Sarel paused to greet someone else before continuing," were there at the Great Trek with me and Pretorius. Thus, they settled around Pietermaritzburg."

    "Wait, so the members of the Volksraad consist solely of members in Pietermaritzburg? Isn''t the Volksraad supposed to represent the Natalia Republic in its entirety?"

    "That would be the ideal. But the other Commandoes further out did not want to fall other Pretorius authority, so they settled further away from us. It''s the best we can come up with. What can I say? We are fiercely independent people."

    Sarel stopped in his footsteps and turned to face Jan.

    "That reminds me, have you gone to the Church recently?"

    Jan was about to scrunch up his expression, but he suppressed that feeling and replied, "I''ve recently had to meet with the missionary leader at a local Anglican Church. The pastor had clothes shipped from England to clothe the local natives and sought my opinion on its distribution."

    Sarel did not hold the same restraint and scrunched up his expression instead. He was polite, and let it fade away. Jan naturally didn''t question him on it.

    "How did you do it?"

    "I had the pastor sent the clothes to a Veldkornet managing the Zulu districts. I let her decide on the distribution. The pastor was uncomfortable, wanting to have some oversight on the matter, but I told him it would be best to let local authorities handle the situation the best."

    "Did the man back down?" Sarel was interested in the story and kept mum on his displeasure of Jan''s dealings with the Anglicans.

    "He insisted on taking part in the distribution process. I joined in as well, curious about how the Veldkornet will handle distribution. She had subordinate elves lug over the English clothes and went hut to hut, letting the occupants have a look at the clothes they want. At every stop, a few minutes would go by, but clothes for an entire family would disappear. I believed we passed through about a quarter of the Zulu districts before the clothes ran out. The pastor had no complaints but requested to join any future clothes distributions."

    Sarel nodded in understanding.

    "I understand that the local Dutch Protestant Church may not have as many resources as the British, but I''m sure we can collaborate in future events."

    "More volunteers would be a delight in future charitable events. I may have to seek out the pastor to see if they are willing to collaborate."

    ''I know that you''re going to mooch off the English resources and claim that it''s donated by you. Smart. There''s little reason for the pastor to reject it after all.''

    "It would be better if we are close by. Would you be interested in funding a local Dutch Church in your little town? It would be easier to collaborate this way."

    "I would be interested, but I lack the manpower willing to staff such a building."

    "I will look into it. I have a few candidates in mind, that would best spread the teachings of God to your people."

    "Thank you very much, Sarel."

    "No, thank you, Jan. Now, where was I¡­"

    Sarel absentmindedly looked around him and found that people have already shifted positions while they were lost in their conversation. He pointed at someone and told Jan, "Come, let me introduce you to¡­"

    Every man in the room was amiable to him. Most men here were comrades during the Battle of Blood River, all their descendants. They mostly joked about his poor showing when he first came to the Volksraad but praised his good command of Elfrikaans after about a couple of months. They told stories about him and his father, and all the dumb things his father did. But most of all, they remarked on his quick ascension through the Boer hierarchy.

    "A mere son of a Veldkornet. And now you''re a fully-fledged Commando."

    "I don''t think so, he has to share his power with the Zulus. More of a Veldkornet than a Commando."

    "Still a promotion nonetheless."

    In the end, he went to his position, right beside Secretary Joren who greeted him.

    "Ahh, Jan. Glad to see you here. I''ve been busy with other affairs. So, I''m sorry to not spend so much time visiting your town."

    "It''s ok. You have done plenty for the town."

    "There is one matter I was looking to discuss with you face to face, but I haven''t found the time to do so. Do you mind if we discuss this now?"Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    "Sure."

    Joren took out another stash of papers and ruffled through them.

    "You see, the presence of the Anglican Church is a nuisance to the slave trading business I have with the Abyssinian Alemayehu. The pastor and his men have intruded into my men''s affairs, disrupting the network. My men have resorted to using wagons to discreetly transport our stock to Alemayehu''s vessels, but the pastor is making investigations into our activities. Could you do something to get rid of the man? I don''t know why you decided to invite the Anglican Church, but they are an unwelcomed presence."

    Joren stared at Jan, wondering what the hell he was thinking. A Dutchman, sucking up to the English. Their faiths aren''t even similar, and they have to go to different Churches.

    "It''s not up to me. You see, the Port has attracted a sizeable population of English trekkers and they requested a Church. Since I have little reason to do so, I decided to invite missionaries nearby to construct one in the Port. I''m sorry if it causes trouble with your trade. Perhaps you should pay the man off?" Jan lied, hoping Joren didn''t notice.

    Joren squinted and sighed. "I would have done so, but that man took my bribe and thanked me for donating to the Church. I don''t even know what to say. How can there be such a shameless pastor!"

    "Perhaps a secluded section of the port can be constructed further away from his eyes. You might be able to conceal your activities then."

    "That would be good. But I do not wish to burden you with this since the current measures are working. Perhaps if the pastor escalates this, then we shall consider doing so."

    The two made small talk for the next minutes before settling down as the Volksraad began. Andries Pretorius was nowhere in sight, but it didn''t matter, for the words here have little effect in this expensive social club. At least Jan''s getting two-pound sterling a day.

    After the day''s meeting, he headed for the library and looked at the various books. Most were in Dutch, but there were scant English books, no doubt donated by some English trekkers. He leafed through those and enjoyed the pleasure of reading Victorian-era literature from England.

    He took a short break at the shooting range firing rounds with his trusty musket to allow his eyes to rest. There, he met with Pretorius who was busy firing away round after round at the targets.

    His first shot struck the centre of the 50-metre target. His second shot struck the centre of the 100-metre target. His third shot, as you have guessed, did not strike the centre of the 150-metre target. Swearing, he reloaded his musket and cocked it before firing another shot. This time, it struck through the centre.

    Pretorius looked at Jan looking at him. Jan looked at the targets with holes in them.

    "Jan, good to see you."

    "Good to see you too, Pretorius."

    "I bet you''re wondering why I''m still practising so hard even though the Zulu war is over. That might be true, but they aren''t the only tribe here. Another Shaka Zulu might come and take away everything we built."

    Embarrassed that Pretorius read his thoughts, he tried to mould his expression into someone as emotionless as he could be.

    "Good attempt at a poker face. But I can still tell it''s one. You get that much experience leading trekkers through hostile elven tribes."

    "You think war''s going to break out, aren''t you? I doubt another Shaka Zulu would pop up. Queen Mpande is unlikely to betray us since we installed her into power. I don''t think the British would be reasserting their rights on us since we haven''t been hostile to them. So, who is the true enemy since we should be safe in Pietermaritzburg?" Jan asked, analysing the situation.

    "You have talked with Sarel. You should know there are many other trekker parties led by other leaders out there. Some of them are friendly to me. Friendly might be understating it. They look up to me for the victory at the Battle of Blood River, allowing us to settle in these lands without much resistance from Elfrican chiefs. The rest are hostile and fear that we might do something to them. Such as reasserting my leadership as representative of all Boers in South Elfirca," Pretorius shook his head.

    "You fear that one of the Boer Commandoes would launch an attack? Who would do so?"

    "There is a man named Hendrik Potgieter. We were once brothers, fighting to avenge our fellow Boers slain by Dingane. He once led a group with another commander, Uys. They were ambushed at Italeni by the Zulus, and Uys were slaughtered. We knew the two didn''t get along, so some even blamed him for causing Uys death. He left and moved further North, in the Transvaal region."

    "What happened to him?"

    "He went off to form a town called Potchefstroom, from what I heard from him. He established a Republic known as the Potchefstroom Republic, though, I do not know how Republican is it since he only brought his followers along with him. This is somewhere in the Transvaal region, so somewhere far north."

    Jan tilted his head to the side.

    "There''s very far away. It doesn''t seem to be something to be worried about."

    "But that''s the thing. We are extremely decentralized, and I have little contact with the other Commandoes. I know little about their affairs. There might be conflict amongst them, and we may get dragged into something troublesome. The British will ask about this and that, and I will have to answer to them."

    "I don''t think that''s something to worry about. We have access to the latest British firearms. We can get them quickly compared to the trekkers who are further inland. Let us not mention the easy availability of British artillery. We could outmatch them in any conflict."

    "I do not wish for conflict amongst us. But I fear that the young Commandoes would get too hot-blooded and bring trouble upon me. Then I must put an end to their conflict with our guns. It might lead to unthinkable consequences."

    "I see."

    The two stayed silent, unsure of what else to discuss.

    "Anyway, Pretorius, mind coaching me on improving my aim?"

    Pretorius shrugged, "It wouldn''t harm me to do so."

    A small group of English council members from St Lucia decided to visit Port Mpande. As they sat in their wagons and watched the passing scenery, they noticed the increased traffic amongst the shipping lanes as they neared the town. A couple of kilometres away, they found the Port.

    "It seems bigger than St Lucia." Tom Simon, an English councilmember remarked, and the rest of them nodded.

    Their wagon entered the town''s dirt roads, where work has been done to pave them. A mix of elves and men worked to pave the district roads. They did not mix amongst themselves, segregating themselves into two groups to work amongst their people.

    "They have a lot of slaves!" A councilmember remarked, pointing at the elves.

    "Are you sure that''s a slave? That one has a rifle on their back. Could be a Griqua? The elf gene must be strong."

    Now that he mentioned it, he noticed how everyone had guns on their backs. He even saw a rat. No! The wagon turned around the bend and he saw a whole group of rats carrying all manner of instruments that he could not recognize. The one leading the group held a compass, and they spoke in German.

    "The rats that appeared during the Black Death are also here. Damn it, why can''t those vermin just be left in Europe!"

    The rats all turned to look at the man cursing their name, and he quickly shut up, showing a meek smile.

    They got off their wagon, docking it by a local inn before wandering about the town. Two things they found out quickly. The two were divided in two. One was for humans, and the other was for elves. And whenever they tried to cross into the elven section, they were warned not to do so. They decided to do it anyway, but they received stares from the elves on the other side. Thinking better, they retreated to the human districts. One notable thing was that food was considerably cheap. Zulu maize was the cheapest and seemed to be purchased by most city dwellers.

    At the town hall, they found a couple of men picking up litter and trash. One of them swept the manure left by the various cattle away. When a passing cow decided to add more manure to the streets, it yelled at its owner, and the owner yelled back. The men grumbled but continued picking up the trash.

    Walking into the town hall, they could see bureaucrats scrambling from room to room hauling papers. Introducing themselves as a delegation from St Lucia in English, the bureaucrat headed off to another room and brought a certain red-haired man. That man looked like an Englishman.

    "Greetings gentlemen from St Lucia, I am Russell Corbyn, the head of the Port Mpande administration. How can I help you?"

    "We are here as a social call to our neighbours by St Lucia Bay. We thank you for the warm welcome."

    "Let me bring you a tour around town. I''m sure you must be lost."

    Russell Corbyn began bringing the group around. Like the other residents, he explained that the town was divided in half, one half belonging to humans, the other belonging to elves. He advised them to stay in their districts due to recent tensions between the groups.

    "Some might say the elves are savages or whatnot. But we have employed elves in the administration, and I can say they are as capable as humans. It''s not as if they are hostile to you. I heard from a colleague that they are rather fascinated due to how different you look from them," Russell pointed at his pale arms.

    "My skin colour is pale, while theirs are much darker. You can understand where the fascination lies."

    Russell waved to a female elf dressed similarly in Victorian wear as him at another district, who also waved back.

    "Let us go to the heart of the town. The port."

    He led them to the port and showed them the crowded waters filled with boats. Men were lugging cargo from ships to warehouses by the shore. Men were paddling small boats filled with goods unloaded from bigger ships, bringing them to shore. Others were inspecting the ships, scraping the barnacles off the bottom of the hull.

    "We carry various goods from Ethiopia, Egypt and even Arabia. The port is rather attractive as we are a free trade port. We do not tax whatever goods you bring in. We collect a fixed service fee depending on the vessel."

    After walking about the port, they headed back to the town hall.

    "So, any questions?"

    The Englishmen were speechless throughout the tour. And here, they did not what to ask either.

    "I see there are no questions. Well then gentlemen, do have a good day."

 Chapter 24: Food I

    "A proper road should be paved from Pietermaritzburg to Port Mpande. So much trade has passed through between the two towns, and they have become economically dependent on one another. A dirt road used by all other trekkers before it is insufficient. It should be paved with proper gravel and stone," The speaker spoke in Elfrikaans. His words received nods from the various members of the Volksraad, but Jan did not nod along with them.

    Joren at his side whispered into his ears, "His family owns a quarry nearby. So, if such a road is constructed, it will use his stone. I''m sure he will jack up the price."

    "Port Mpande benefits the most from such an infrastructure project. And they should foot the bill for this enormous undertaking." And with that, the Dutch speaker sat down to let a half-hearted discussion rumble around the room.

    Jan stood up, letting their eyes fall on him. Codeswitching to Elfrikaans, he spoke up, "This is a fine initiative. But where will we get the workers for the roads? It is harvesting season in October, and our men are busy harvesting their crops. I believe it is better to have this matter to be discussed during the winter when the men are free."

    He sat back down, and now the men in the room were nodding their heads in agreement.

    "That was brilliant. Labour is hard to come by during these months, so he will have every reason to charge high prices for stone. But once the planting of the crops is done, with farmers having little to do, they''ll partake in various gigs."

    And like every topic brushed over in the Volksraad, it was forgotten soon after as the men went on to other topics.

    Sarel Cilliers was promoting Dutch Churches to be constructed in every town. For in his words, they had to repay their debt to God for allowing them victory during the Battle of Blood River. They needed to show their gratitude so that they may receive salvation.

    The trekkers paid attention to his words, but their descendants brushed his words aside. To prevent himself from getting on such an influential man''s bad side, he decided to pretend to be the former.

    All in all, little substance was discussed and Jan could only think of why he bothered to study Dutch to understand what was going on here. If only his father told him earlier that it was a waste of time, he probably would not have so fervently pursued mastery of Elfrikaans.

    Ratmen were scurrying about the fields bringing their surveying instruments about. Ratfrica Mining Co was busy looking at a black substance recently discovered in this field. The farmer welcomed their presence after they introduced who they were, seeking to gain some profit from the black dirt.

    The black stuff, as rubbed in the rat''s hand interested the rat. He was Bastian Haneke, the son of a family of rats that managed mines owned by the House of Fugger. And that black dirt, which had recently gained prominence in England, as families use it in place of firewood. If his hunch is right, he suspected coal was nearby.

    The farmer brought his recent harvest to his men, asking about progress every hour. All Bastian could do was squeak that progress was fine. But the farmer kept coming by. Although a nuisance, the free food and refreshments were appreciated by his fellow rats.

    A small deposit was found. But who knew how big it was? It could be harvested for years or perhaps centuries. He informed the Boer, who danced around in glee, thanking him profusely.

    Bastian could only smirk at the naivety of the farmer, he was sure he could convince the young Commando to scam this man out of most of the profits of the mine and get him away. Some companies in mind might be interested in harvesting the coal, but he will have to contact them.

    Still, the sign of a small deposit is good. There are likely more deposits nearby. He will milk the farmer for every food and drink he provided and undersell the value of such a small deposit. With a large advance, the farmer will leave, and he will profit. Until then, let the digging continue.

    And with the Volksraad proceedings over, with a few new friends and acquaintances in Pretorius'' inner circle, he headed back to the port riding on horseback. The speed was rather slow, as the road was not smooth and rather bumpy. It reminded him of the man''s proposal a few days ago in the Volksraad. The construction of paved roads would help boost infrastructure and further increase trade. But that will have to only wait when there is a surplus in labour. As it was the harvesting season, the markets were going to be flooded with food.

    A few hours went by, and he passed by various merchant caravans all trudging on the same dirt road as his. And he could make out the outcroppings of the port. The fields of subsistence farms from homesteaders crowded on the outskirts. And he spotted a group of rats surveying one of those farms. Black dirt was being gathered up into a pile. Thinking that he had a small clue what it is, he decided to let the experts handle the matter. If the rats knew what were they, they''ll tell him eventually.

    The streets were different as merchants hauled in harvest after harvest from the October and November harvesting seasons. Warehouses were filled to the brim with food, and merchants were busy exploiting the low prices. The urban areas with the inns and taverns decided to try a scheme which made his lips curl downwards.

    A sign in Elfrikaans was stuck onto one of the windows of one of those establishments.

    WE SERVE FOOD GROWN BY FELLOW FARMERS, NONE OF THOSE ELVEN CRAP

    It wasn''t the only one, and he could plenty of those signs dotted throughout his side of the district. Farmers were walking up carrying signs.

    BOYCOTT ELVEN GOODS, BUY HUMAN

    Such signs were commonplace, and he moved aside from the farmers wielding their signs and their produce. It seems someone must have thought that such a scheme would allow them to sell their crops at a higher price. Some might be moved by such feelings, but Jan doubted most urban dwellers might be moved. If the price point of their food increased, he doubted the urbanites would have the same sentiment.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    He immediately headed to the town hall where the office was. Opening the doors, he could see bureaucrats dealing with the many farmers.

    Dutch speakers were at the front dealing with their complaints. And he squeezed through them, using his elbows to shove them aside before leaping over the desk. Recognising him, the bureaucrats moved aside and he rushed into his office manned by the English bureaucrat Russell Corbyn.

    "It''s a mess out there," He shook his head.

    "What the hell happened while I was gone?"

    "Nothing. All the things we tried to do to lower the price of food was only a cup of water in the sea. Harvesting season just dumped more water into that sea, and we''re drowning in it. The farmers are pissed with the extremely low prices of food. And they want Zulus out."

    "How are the Zulus handling it?"

    Russell walked over to the window and pointed to the Zulu districts.

    "Nokuthula has called for a general mobilization of men and women. You can see they got elves with guns patrolling the other side, ready to get into action if anyone tries to escalate it."

    Jan looked over, and sure enough, there were Zulus with guns there. A majority also only had spears with them as well.

    "I''m sure that there''s also an army in the forests over there. They don''t want to play all their cards. We would all be massacred if some fool tries to poke the hive," Russell groaned.

    "Well, Mr Boddewijk. It was nice knowing you. But I think it is best to evacuate the port. You might think it''s highly unlikely that it would escalate, but believe me, there are many stupid people in this world. And they are going to send us to hell."

    Russell began leaving the room but someone''s word stopped him. "Wait."

    Jan took a deep breath and let it out.

    "God this is stressful," He remarked while hearing the muffled commotion outside the building.

    Russell smirked.

    "Anyhow, there must be a ringleader for the Boer side. I don''t think these farmers want to start a war. They only want to sell their crops for a good price. So, we need a place where we can sell our crops for a good price. We definitely cannot rely on our local markets. Any states close by that are in urgent need of food?"

    "There''s the Egyptian Ottoman war going on in Egypt. The ruler of Egypt Muhammad Ali procured most of the food for his military. The Egyptians are smashing the Ottoman army are entering Anatolia. The Great Powers have threatened to intervene, sending their ships on standby, but the devastating Ottoman defeat has made them think twice about such an intervention."

    ''Eh? History has diverged once more. Why? Oh wait, the Russians don''t exist. The only threats to Egypt are either the Austrians or the British. The British can smash the Egyptian navy, but I don''t think they would wish to enter Anatolia to fight on the Ottoman''s behalf. The same holds for the Austrians.''

    "Muhammad Ali''s supply lines are stretched thin. Prices of food should be soaring in the nation. I''m sure Egypt would be desperate. Although for such a voyage, we would have to use a large number of food preservatives. I don''t know how we are going to be able to preserve all the food in a short amount of time to calm the unrest."

    ''It would be better to can the food. It looks like I might have to rush industrialization. That black stuff found by those rats ought to be coal. Should be able to power such machinery.''

    "Could we¡­ artificially buy up food in bulk at high prices so that we can quell the unrest?"

    "We''re going to need a lot of warehouses to store them. But we should be able to, but it is going to crunch up our finances. Another crisis like this, and we won''t have the finances to avail it. Here''s a better idea. Short term, the easy way to solve it is to encourage the residents to buy local Boer produce. The local Boers would feel good about this knowing that you support them. The current crisis is due to your lack of support for the local Boer communities. They see you as being too submissive to the Zulus and want you to be more assertive."

    "But this would segregate our economies¡­"

    "We could reintegrate the Zulu market later. But for now, any second now, some idiot going to run off into the Zulu district and get himself killed, sparking off a fucking riot."

    Jan sighed.

    "Very well. But I want a meeting with the ringleader of this."

    "This is your Commando speaking. I am Jan Boddewijk. I understand your concerns about the low prices of food. But do you know whose fault is this? It is Zulu''s fault! They come in here with their food and make us farmers poorer! So buy local, and support your local farmers!"

    The crowd chanted their slogans of buying locally in Dutch. Seemingly satisfied with his words, they stormed out and left the town hall in a mess to continue parading in the streets.

    "Well, spoken like a true politician. Blame the outsiders. You should try blaming the English though. They wouldn''t dare to lynch their English traders after all," Russell commented.

    "I thought of that. But someone riled them up against the Zulu."

    A lone familiar man strutted into the town hall, Harrie Victorie. A man that represented the farmers during their meeting with the merchants. Yes, that man who signed a couple of futures contracts himself.

    "I assume you''re the one who summoned this mob?" Jan asked in Dutch.

    Harrie shook his head.

    "I didn''t summon them. They came here of their own accord. Because we all knew where the problem lies. The Zulu entry into the market has lowered the price of food, lowered the living standards of all farmers overall, and brought nothing but misery. They are a plague. A plague that should be eradicated."

    "They built this town for you. The reason you could enjoy the amenities or whatnot is due to their efforts."

    "But we don''t need them now. Everything runs smoothly. Except for those elves that occupied half of the living area. Look at their buildings. Look at their poverty. They couldn''t run it even if it smacked them in the face."

    Harrie took some steps forward, approaching Jan who reached for his gun.

    "Don''t need to worry a thing. I don''t plan on harming you... Here is what I want, you tell the Zulu and get them to open their markets. They''re dumping their goods on our markets, and we can''t dump our goods in theirs! That''s unfair."

    "What do you mean unfair? You could dump your goods in theirs. But you didn''t want to accept ivory, animal hide or whatnot."

    "Why do I or most of us need any of that? That''s for rich European Aristocrats. I''m a simple farmer. You tell the Zulus to give us more land. If not, it''s war."

    Harrie reached for his musket and Jan quickly pulled his gun. Russell quickly pulled his and dived behind a desk for cover. Yelling at Jan, someone fired a shot.

    The round penetrated Harrie''s thigh, making him stumble a couple of steps back. Staring at Jan, Harrie crumbled onto the ground. The shooter entered the room, wielding a firearm marked with the manufacturer Smith''s Gun Store. Smoke drifted out of the barrel.

    Pulling back their cloak, she slid the musket to Jan. Waving goodbye, she made a run for it as men with their rifles rushed into the building, wondering what the commotion was about. There, they see their collapsed representative groaning while clutching his thigh.

    Two guns were on the floor, by their Commando. They all looked at him, pointing their guns at him.

    "He tried to attack me," Jan nervously uttered and pointed at the small pistol by Harrie''s side.

    "What a mess," Russell commented, as he cleaned his musket.

    They lingered at a local inn, a rare inn that refused to only sell Boer produce.

    They didn''t dare to head back to the town hall, lest someone else shows up to open fire.

    "From what I have gathered from the other bureaucrats, Harrie is being treated at the local doctor. They''re going to dig out the bullet. It''s gonna hurt. Lucky for him, it''s stocked with a decent supply of alcohol."

    "So what now?" Jan asked.

    "Well, the protests are dispersed. But my recommendation lay low for now. We don''t know how many supporters Harrie Victor had. But one of them might try to get revenge on you. But the easiest way to make them forget is to fix the current low food prices crisis."

    "Get me in contact with the local merchants from Belgium. I want someone that specializes in machinery. We will fix this once for and all."

 Chapter 25: Food II

    A small group of Commandoes mobilized by Pretorius garrisoned the town. Martial law was in order as Boers wielding guns marched the streets. The farmers were dispersed, and Pretorius temporarily took charge of the Boer district.

    "So why did he do it?" Pretorius asked one of his men.

    "Harrie Victorie wanted to launch a coup and seize control of the town, becoming the Commando."

    Pretorius nodded before dismissing him.

    A man bashed his fist against the table upon hearing his words and stood up.

    "Veldkornet Vincent, what are you planning to do?"

    Vincent Boddewijk sighed and sat back down.

    "It would be wise to not let your emotions get the better of you. It is not that man''s fault. He was capitalising on the unrest that was already present in this town. Your son is no Voortrekker leader, and he lacks the reputation needed. The only reason he is the Commando is that they know that I''m indirectly ruling the Port. You should know that."

    "My idiot son should have said something about this instead of burdening himself with these half-ass measures."

    Vincent grumbled and took a big puff of his pipe.

    "Speaking of¡­" Pretorius said as he heard the footsteps by the door. Someone knocked on it and Pretorius told them to come in.

    Opening the door, Jan was greeted by Pretorius and his father. His father sent an angry gaze his way, but Pretorius was stoic in his expression.

    "Jan Boddewijk. Let me make myself clear. You are not the Commando of this port. The true Commando is me. The people do not see you as the Commando, they see you as my underling, and thus an extension of my authority. There is nothing noteworthy about you nor a connection between the residents here and you. All the success you gained is directly or indirectly due to the extension of my reputation, authority and respect."

    Letting his words sink in, Pretorius watched Jan who also held a stoic expression.

    "Nonetheless, I will admit that the problem you''re facing is rather unique. And with your sole authority, you were unable to handle it. In such a situation, you should escalate the matter to me, your Commando-General. So, on behalf of you, I shall temporarily take over all matters relating to this town''s governance. Now then, do you have anything you wish to let me know?"

    "What are your plans, Pretorius?"

    Jan calmly asked, and his father huffed.

    "The Zulus have been taking advantage of you¡­" His father uttered before stopping once he realised Pretorius was glaring at him.

    Heaving a sigh, Pretorius explained, "There is a massive imbalance of trade. The Zulus are dumping all their goods onto the local market, resulting in this unrest. For now, I have expelled all Zulu merchants and goods from the Boer side of town. The Zulu Veldkornet has been complaining about my harsh measures, but the Boer populace is satisfied."

    "However, their markets are closed. Let me ask you if you were a part of the Zulu petite bourgeoisie or elite, would you eat your locally grown maize every day?"

    "Of course not."

    "You would look to eat other sorts of food on other days. We grow other sorts of food, so where are the Zulu petite bourgeoisie and elites lining up to purchase them?"

    Jan fell silent.

    "Something is wrong here. And the Zulus have been manipulating their markets so that this trade imbalance exists. Coupled with the fact that they have failed to adopt a currency similar to ours, they had full control over what entered and left their markets. Due to your lack of authority, you were unable to adopt such measures, and could only apply stop-gap measures."

    Jan nodded.

    "Now I''m here. And let us put an end to these half-baked measures and solve the root cause. I have sent Flight Commandoes to scout out ahead during the night discreetly. There is a Zulu army massing behind in Zululand. They are equipped with spears, but the scouts have noticed a few signs of artillery and artillery pieces accompanying them. If push comes to shove, we will abandon the port and let them have it. And we will fight at a place where the terrain advantages us."

    Pretorius took out a pocket watch and observed the minute head ticking by.

    "I have arranged a meeting with the Zulu Veldkornet, the Zulu Commando Princess is on her way and is likely to attend halfway through our meeting. Jan, do you have anything to say about them that would help in our later negotiations? This is out of consideration of your previous encounters with them."

    Jan took some time to think as the two men watched him. His father had a grim expression but a sliver of kindness leaked through here and there. Pretorius seemed calm and was paying close attention to his every word.

    "The Veldkornet is known as Nokuthula but she serves as a mere representative. The true figurehead behind their operation is Princess Cetshwayo who is rather young. If she was human, she would look around 15 to 16 years old."

    The two men looked at each other in surprise, before turning back to face him.

    "Such a young elf?" His father remarked as he caressed his head, feeling an oncoming headache.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Pretorius held firm and quietly nodded before proclaiming, "Let''s go. I''ve brought Sarel Cilliers if conflict does break out. He''ll quickly implement an anti-magic zone if things go south."

    "I doubt Nokuthula would have the authority to escalate things. The ball is in our court."

    "Let me remind you that if conflict does break out, Commandoes from all around South Elfrica will be mobilized. They will head this way, and crush whatever remains of your Zulu force." Pretorius declared in the room.

    Zulu warriors carrying guns sold by Jan kept the guns close by. Spears were slung on their backs. And they had a smaller spear on their side, meant for throwing.

    The Boers already had loaded their muskets before entering the room, and with a single pull of their trigger, a shot will ring out. However, if conflict does break out, close-quarters combat will ensue, and it was obvious the Zulus would have the advantage. The plan was after opening fire with a fiery salvo, they would all beat a hasty retreat and fight somewhere else.

    Nokuthula yawned, shooting Jan with a curious gaze.

    "Good to see that the Commando was still fine after the turmoil a few days ago."

    "The turmoil would have never existed if you Zulus¡­" His father went into a tirade, but Pretorius put a hand on his shoulder.

    Whispering into his Veldkornet''s ears, "Any more of this and I''ll send you out. Do not try to start a fight here. We will not be able to win."

    "It''s good to see that the representative of the Boers in South Elfirca has a cool head. I suppose if it was otherwise, the Republic would have ended a long time ago."

    His father stared daggers at the Zulu provocation, but the Zulu warriors at the other end stared back at him. Feeling a little intimidated, he backed down and deferred to Pretorius.

    "Now then," Pretorius took a seat, waiting for the other two men to take seats as well before continuing, "Let us discuss affairs relating to the trade imbalance."

    "What imbalance, we have little interest in your goods. It is the Boers who have too much interest in your goods."

    "You can continue buying time with retorts like this until your princess comes, or we properly negotiate this. Do you wish to do your job properly to discuss things so that your princess can give the go-ahead, or shall we continue playing around due to your lack of confidence?"

    Pretorius words shut Nokuthula up. With a grin, he went into his prepared speech.

    "The petite bourgeoise and elites of the Zulus are unable to access the goods provided by the Boer market. So, I must first ask, why is this so?"

    "I serve as their middleman. And all I can say is that you Boers are unwilling to obtain our goods. We offer you leopard skins, ivory, and our produce. But there has not been much uptake."

    Putting his hands on the table, Pretorius clasped them together, before gesturing with them.

    "To a farmer, what use is your ivory and leopard skin to them? This clash is due to our differences in currency. You and I both value different things. An important thing to you is cattle. Yes, to a certain extent, every Boer I have met desired more cattle. But there comes a certain point where one wants something else other than cattle. Whether it be improved tools from Britain, opium or whatnot, these can''t be purchased with cattle."

    Pretorius put a coin on the table. It was an extremely polished British Pound Sterling. He slid it across the table passing it to Nokuthula.

    Unfazed by the coin, she picked it up to twist and turn it. A few seconds later, she placed it back on the table.

    "It''s a pound sterling. Nothing special about it."

    "This is what is used to buy other goods on a global scale. A man could work hard and earn such a coin in a week. If that man is working and is skilled in the trade, he could earn it in a day. Plus, the coin''s head features the King of the United Kingdom of Britain, Ireland and Hannover, William IV. This is so that anyone around the world can recognise him if they have the coin with them."

    Nokuthula slid the coin back across the table, and Pretorius kept it in a pouch.

    "Here''s how I want our trade to be facilitated from now on. Whenever you purchase our goods, you pay our men with this. But if they wish to have cattle, then pay them for cattle. When our men buy goods from you, allow them to pay in either cattle or with the pound sterling. What makes things different from the previous system? In summary, you will accept the pound sterling as currency from now on."

    Nokuthula shrugged.

    "I won''t be able to pay your men in pound sterling as we lack the reserves. It would take some time for traders to pay us in pound sterling so that we can build up an appropriate reserve."

    "Over some time, your elites will be able to build an appropriate reserve, and they will have full access to our goods. Now, these coins are not only used in trade with us. No, it is a global currency belonging to Great Britain. Whether you''re trading with Portuguese or Dutch or British merchants, they will all bow down to this coin. That is how powerful the coin is."

    Nokuthula listened to his words and asked.

    "Is that all?"

    "That is all. I believe that this arrangement is amiable to your people?"

    "I''ll have to ask the princess if this is acceptable to her. This does not only concern me. It also concerns the other Zulu chiefs following under the princess."

    "If she refuses, is it possible to ask another princess instead? I believe there are multiple Zulu princes and princesses. You can have multiple lovers, yes?"

    "That might be the case. But it was Princess Cetshwayo who supported this collaboration. I will not help in your endeavours to open contact with other princesses."

    They made small talk about various affairs before the lady of the room arrived.

    "Let it be known if conflict does break out. I''ll have every one of your Boers massacred. I don''t care if your children and wives get caught in the crossfire. Scum from your kind deserves it."

    The teenage-looking elf strolled in and spoke in poorly accented Dutch. She was wrapped in copious amounts of leopard skin, but she held a firm gaze and took a seat beside Nokuthula.

    Nokuthula began whispering into her ear, likely giving her a rundown of the events.

    That firm expression mellowed out and she felt embarrassed from her declaration likely enflaming tensions.

    Pretorius looked to the side and scratched the back of his head. He returns to face her with a sagely look of camaraderie.

    The Zulu conversations could be heard from the other end of the table. It seems they wanted to let everyone in the room be privy to their expression.

    "What? That''s reasonable. So did I just mobilize all these men for nothing? How am I going to justify to the various chiefs that I mobilized them for nothing."

    The Zulu warriors were exasperated upon hearing her words.

    "Princess, you could tell them that it was because of their presence that such a favourable deal hatched. You should thank every one of them for coming personally. I don''t think they were looking for a fight, so I''m sure they will be satisfied."

    The Princess smiled and left the room to handle the mobilized chiefs.

    "I believe that is all. If there is nothing else to discuss, then we can end this meeting." Nokuthula got up from her seat and left the room along with the retinue of armed Zulu warriors.

    The Boers heaved a sigh of relief, relieved that combat did not break out during harvesting season. Even if conflict broke out, few were willing to fight. The farmers would only reply to the summons by saying that they would respond in a few months, after harvesting season.

    "It looks like that has settled things. I hope you understand that such a favourable outcome was only achieved due to my authority. Next time, if you have to deal with a similar issue, do not be afraid to escalate it to me."

    "I will, Pretorius. Thank you for your assistance."

    "It''s what a good leader should do. They would help their subordinates in need when they can. Now, I shall be stepping down as temporary Commando of Port Mpande. I''ll hand the position back to you."

    "What about Harrie Victorie?"

    "Ahh¡­ the trekkers who tried to initiate a coup? I have deported him and his followers. For daring to take action against you, a representative of me, that showed how little they saw of my authority. Thus, they deserved it. I doubt any of us would shed any tears if we hear of their demise during their trek. They are likely trekking to the region of Transvaal or the Oranje Free State. Veldkornet Vincent, anything to say?"

    His father removed the pipe from his mouth and let his eyes lay on his son. Studying his features, he shook his head.

    "I have a son too you know. I wouldn''t just leave it like that. Oh, I see. It must be me. I''m sorry for intruding in your personal space," Pretorius beat a hasty retreat.

    "I got nothing to say though!" Veldkornet Vincent yelled after the fleeing Pretorius and sighed. Putting his tobacco pipe on a table, he turned to face Jan.

    "Pretorius is right. If you got any problems, don''t be afraid to contact either me or him. We have way more experience dealing with such affairs. This ain''t our first rodeo and won''t be our last. A newcomer like you will make many mistakes. We''ll help you pick yourself back up."

    Patting Jan''s shoulder, his father followed after Pretorius.

    "Wait for me, you bastard! Don''t just leave me here!"

    He called after Pretorius and ran after him.

    "Good to have you back, boss. Pretorius worked me to the bone." The head of Port Mpande''s administration greeted him as he entered his office.

    "The other task I entrusted you, contact with Belgium machinist merchants? Have you done so?"

    "Yes, I have arranged a meeting between the two of you. His ship should be arriving sometime tomorrow."

    "Great, do remind me tomorrow."

 Chapter 26: Canned Food

    "The concept of canning is simple. Cook the food, and seal it in a container. The French inventor Nicolas Appert sealed it in glass jars. But in Britain, machines use wrought iron cans to seal the food. No one knows how the food is preserved. Nicolas Appert has even admitted he has no idea how it works, but scientists are still looking into it."

    The Belgian showed off the machinery, a simple can sealer.

    "The cans have to be handmade, but we are keeping our eyes on the British markets. If anyone develops a way to make machines that can make cans, we will obtain it first. Then we''ll disassemble the machinery and find out how it works before making our Belgian versions."

    "I don''t believe the manufacturers would let you take away such precious machinery considering how many of these people see the clones coming out of Belgium," Jan remarked.

    The Belgian smirked, "I''ll tell you this since we''re once under the Kingdom of Netherlands, but we smuggle them through British customs. It ain''t too hard to smuggle them across the British channel into Belgium. But that is already over, and Belgium is an independent Kingdom. So, I won''t treat you like a fellow countryman."

    The Belgium polities of Flanders and Walloon had primarily Roman Catholic, while the Northern regions of the Netherlands were filled with Dutch Protestants, naturally, the two did not see eye to eye on various issues. Belgium had a mostly industrialized economy, but the Netherlands were mostly agrarian. When Belgium seceded, most of the Netherlands'' industry evaporated overnight. Thus, the Netherlands is a shell of its former self. The Boers could not rely on support from their old homeland in Elfrica.

    "Do you mind opening a couple of canneries in this town? We have cheap food and vast minerals. Look at the various mines being opened in Cape Colony. Although we have not found a source of iron, we could import it from Cape Colony. We have recently discovered coal."

    Jan placed a black rock on the desk. Recently handed to him from Ratfrica Mining Co, they unearthed it from a homesteader''s farm. They negotiated on his behalf and bribed the owner with a large advance fee to get him and his whole family out of their way.

    "Coal, you say?"

    The Belgian took the black rock and observed it.

    "Doesn''t matter. I don''t know of any mining companies willing to venture this far out to harvest some mere coal. It''s not too valuable. It would be cheaper to import them from the Cape, where the coal mines are more established."

    "But if a substantial industrial presence is established, producing coal here locally would be cheaper."

    "If."

    "I''ll be honest with you Dutchman. I''m not too interested in opening canning factories here. I see the potential of course. You could export them to Asia and Europe cheaply here. But I''ll have to make a stop here occasionally to check up on the factories. But I am a busy man and am not too interested in settling here."

    The Belgian explained, pausing to study Jan''s face.

    "But I do know some associates that are emigrating out of Belgium for various reasons. Whether it be running away from debts in Belgium or various other reasons, do not worry about them mismanaging the various enterprises here. Once you make a mistake or two, you''ll rarely repeat them. But because of this, I request preferential treatment."

    "What kind?"

    "Now we hail from the lowlands, so I won''t be too harsh, and I see little reason for you to not acquiesce to my demands. But I request that the factories to be established here should not be taxed for a minimum of ten years. It would be unfair to tax these enterprises, as they will be barely struggling to make a profit here as they take time to establish themselves. Men must be trained to use the machinery. And I question the quality of your workers."

    "What do you mean?"

    "I don''t know how many of your men can read or write. I''ve been in the business for long enough. There is a vast difference in work quality between an illiterate and a literate worker. My associates would rather have the latter, so give or take a couple of months would be spent training men to read and write. Production would be slow. Thus, I hope you do not see my demands as unreasonable."

    Jan took some time to think, studying the canning machine intently.

    "Just curious, how much would can food go for if it were manufactured here?"

    "I can assure you it would be much more expensive compared to its European counterparts. The price of obtaining the raw material inputs would be much higher. Thus, it is a novelty item for the petite bourgeoisie and upper class. However, the main market comes from the army. You don''t have to worry about food being spoiled while being on the march. I believe that there is a need here that can be fulfilled using canned food. And that is with you trekkers trekking further and further inland into the Elfrican interior. Only the wealthy would be able to purchase them, but only the wealthy can purchase a wagon and start a trek."

    "So you saying I''ll mostly purchase them for my own needs and should not rely on local consumer demand?"

    "Correct. I hope you will put your money where your mouth is."

    They had to hash out numerous things. For instance, a walk around the pier to demarcate some warehouses for their personal use. A tour around the town, where farmers were delighted with the higher prices of their produce due to the temporary ban on all Zulu goods enacted by Pretorius. Urbanites grumbled but had little political clout due to the number of farmers far outnumbering them.

    "You said food prices were low but from what I see. The prices are rather high," The Belgian remarked, perusing a market stall.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    "A temporary ban on Zulu goods is being enacted. Once it is removed, I believe the prices of food will fall dramatically. Just for the canned food industry''s sake, I can circumvent this for the business, and allow you to procure Zulu produce cheaply."

    "You better because you would be sponsoring the initial purchase orders. Do not blame me due to the high prices. The factory owner would not offend their biggest customer, after all."

    With the tour conducted, he bid the Belgian goodbye and went to deal with the rats on the farm.

    "So far, we only found this small deposit. But I''m sure there is more nearby." The Austrian rat, Bastian explained.

    "So, you have put all your efforts into digging up coal?"

    "Could always make money by dumping them into the Cape Colony, who will then bring it Britain. I rather focus our efforts on something that is right in front of us than any elusive minerals like gold or diamonds."

    "So, as you have said, the farmer is gone with his family? I assume, there was little trouble?"

    The rat showed its front tooth and swung its tail from side to side.

    "If you ask if we had to resort to guns, then no. We did not have to use them. All I did was offer the man two years'' worth of estimated profits on this little subsistence farm, you will be footing the bill of course, as previously discussed."

    Jan nodded, and Bastian continued.

    "The chaos due to the unrest has slowed our progress. My boys were thinking of running out of town when we first heard about the unrest. But some correspondence in the Pietermaritzburg let me know of Pretorius'' intervention, so my boys stayed put. The unrest might leave us with little leverage when negotiating with some of the mining firms, but it is what it is."

    "I apologize for the unrest. I have¡­ mismanaged the situation, resulting in much distress for all of us."

    "I''m not someone who gives up so easily. I still see the potential profits right before us. So, I will skedaddle like the rest of the foreign merchants and traders. I am a professional after all. And those men will come back with their goods in a few months."

    The elven bureaucrats in their workforce all resigned from their positions, fearing for their safety since much of their work presided in Boer town. Calls rang out for a fence to be constructed between the Boer and Zulu districts, firmly dividing the area in two.

    Racism and Bigotry spilt in the Boer towns. Inns and taverns were hanging signs that they would serve no disgusting elves. And swears and curse words were thrown around casually, knowing full well that they could and will not be retaliated upon for their words.

    "What a mess," Jan caressed his head, and he saw the numbers fall. The remaining Boer bureaucrats compiled a report of the overall situation, and numbers were all down. As the Austrian rat, Bastian pointed out, there was a large exodus of merchants due to the instability. Many of them headed for towns such as Pietermaritzburg where they perceived it was safer since it was closer to Pretorius. The goods flowing into the town decreased by about 75%. It was depressing to look at the statistics.

    "What can I say, sir? Those Boers only saw elves as lesser to them. With the current unrest, those who kept their mouths sheathed could unleash all the words that wanted to see the light of day. For the Zulu''s safety, and to prevent the escalation of another conflict. My advice would be to build the fence, no matter how much I disagree with it principally," Russell explained.

    He pointed at the windows, where a long rope was drawn between the districts, indicating which is Boer, which is Zulu. Men were voluntarily patrolling on each side, watching the other side.

    "There might come a day when we can tear down such a fence. But for the safety of both parties, let us construct one. Allocate some funds to construct the fence. At least those men could stop wasting their time patrolling about a rope."

    "Now I hope you''re thinking similarly, but I think one of Pretorius'' subordinates instigated the unrest," Russell speculated.

    "The port was growing too fast. It was natural that some would be jealous of its success. But I didn''t expect it to blow up in such a manner."

    "I think Pretorius knows it. That was why he was so harsh on you. One of the men with him would report it to this saboteur. But even if we catch him there is little we can do. Such a person would be higher in the hierarchy and would be even someone Pretorius would not be able to touch."

    "Why do you say so?"

    "The mass exodus of merchants to Pietermaritzburg directly benefits Pretorius and the Veldkornets serving in the various districts around the capital. That''s why I think the saboteur would have to be another Veldkornet, as they will most likely benefit from your downfall. Without your father''s influence, it was likely that the town could implode spectacularly, but few wanted to make enemies with your father since they were on friendly terms with him. After all, they were all comrades during the Battle of Blood River."

    "But if that was true, then we cannot suspect any of the Veldkornets. I do not think they would try to cut me down to size. After all, they are friends of father. Or even Pretorius since it''s highly unlikely he wanted to see things become like that."

    "Hmm¡­ you''re right. Then the most likely candidate is likely another trekker leader or Commando settling around Pietermaritzburg. While they won''t be able to benefit the most from the port''s downfall, they would most likely revel in knocking you down a peg."

    "Any Commando settling by Pietermaritzburg? Could you look into that for me?"

    "I''ll try my best. But the number of trekker parties setting off from Pietermaritzburg to the Elfrican interior makes it hard to identify them. It would be easier if we enlist Pretorius'' assistance, I''m sure he has records on them."

    "I don''t think informing Pretorius would be good. As you''ve said, he already knows. He''s likely doing his digging into it. Or there is likely something holding him back. Perhaps his every action is being tracked. It will not be too hard, he''s like a public figure there."

    "Very well. I won''t be putting too many resources into this effort. For even if we find the culprit, we will not be able to touch that man. And even if we somehow struck him down, I don''t think he would be the only one jealous of your work."

    "Siebe Baert."

    "Jan Boddewijk."

    The two men shook on it and introduced themselves.

    "You''re the man who will manage the can food factories?"

    "Indeed. I have some experience operating them in Belgium before I ran out of the country."

    "If you don''t mind, do you mind telling me your story? It is fine not to share, many men rather keep their past anonymous in these parts."

    "It''s fine. No reason to distrust each other since I hope we will have a long and fruitful working relationship," Siebe took some time to ponder for about some time before opening his lips.

    "During the Belgium Revolution, many shops in Brussels were destroyed by the nationalistic mob. I cursed those men that destroyed my store, and they chased after me as I tried to flee their fervour. I remember tripping over something and falling onto the ground. The mob descended on me, and they kicked me. My arms, my legs, my stomach. All of it hurt."

    Siebe paused, trying his best to remember.

    "I can''t remember after that. But after being beaten to a pulp by my countrymen, I hoped for the restoration of order by the Netherlands. But the French had to intervene and prevent them from doing so, allowing Belgium to become independent. I stayed in the country for quite some time, opening a new store, and hoping for the Netherlands to restore order. But by 1839, when the Treaty of London was signed, I lost all hope and fled the nation."

    Shrugging his shoulders, Siebe smirked.

    "I''m looking for a new start. And an old associate brought me here. I hope nothing of that sort will happen."

    Jan remembered the unrest that unfold previously and forced himself to smile.

    "Of course. I hope to have a fruitful working relationship with you too."

    Jan gave him a tour. He showed him the warehouses reserved for the operation. There was food secretly purchased cheaply from the Zulus and wrought iron cans that the Belgian machinery merchant left behind.

    Showing him the building reserved for their operations, the first floor was filled with canning machinery. The second floor served as accommodation for occupants.

    "Well, I will need workers. Do you have men that can read or write in English or Dutch?"

    "Those are¡­ hard to come by. You will have to pay them good wages for them to quit their current jobs working for various merchants."

    "Good wages encourage good work. I''m no penny pincher. So, are there any orders to fulfil?"

    "I''m looking to have a thousand cans of can food in a few months. I know it is expensive to manufacture these, so is one pound sterling per can good?"

    "The raw input goods will cost more here in Elfrica. Not to mention the cost of skilled labourers. It will have to be two-pound sterling at most."

    Jan took some to think.

    "I tell you what. I''ll order an initial run of 100 cans for two pounds a can. The raw inputs are already in the warehouse. Use the money as seed money to hire workers. During the production run, try to optimize the various processes. Once we''re done with the initial run, we can discuss increasing the volume in the future. Is that suitable?"

    "Very suitable, sir. I will get right on it."

 Chapter 27: Posters

    The wooden fences were being put up, dividing the Zulu and Boer districts. A small gate was installed in the centre. Men stood on both sides looking at one another. Jan could only shake his head at the tomfoolery, but he could do little. Racial harmony was difficult among humans. The poor and rich could not even get along, so how should people of different species get along? Even the most multiracial societies had racism, but what Jan is seeing reminded him of the Apartheid South Africa he saw in various photos.

    If nothing was done, it was heading that way. But it is not as if it was an easy matter to resolve. Mindsets take years, decades, and even centuries to change. How could a single incident by a charismatic leader in the novels solve all this? He was na?ve if he thought so.

    So, it was not shocking to discover a poster nailed to the wall. No one bothered to remove it, probably due to their lack of ability to read it. It was in Dutch.

    Look at the squalor of the natives! Look at their poverty! They can''t govern themselves! It is little wonder why. Naturally, man is superior to the elf! Elves need our guardianship so that they can be civilised in our ways. Through the virtue of hard work, they will be civilised!

    Whoever wrote knew how to read and write well. Considering how many could not read or write, it narrowed it to a small group of petite bourgeoise and upper-class residents in the town. Since the lower classes lived on their subsistence farms, the person is very much an urbanite.

    If a Boer read it, they would not even be bothered. They would nod and say yes! That is very much true! So, let''s get some slaves for themselves, and become one of those rich landowners while the slaves work in the fields.

    Such individuals are no different from feudal lords in an agrarian economy. It was obvious what needed to equalize these men. The smog of the factories. The elbows and arms touching one another abreast in the coal mines. Industrialization was the way forward and they will all realize they are all workers under the capitalist system.

    He decided to leave it on the wall and wanted to make some enquiries on the local urbanites. It was clear he would never get the popular support of the subsistence farmers. The only reason they fell in line was due to Pretorius'' authority. Then he should get acquainted with men similar to him in the old world, fellow urban dwellers.

    That night, a social gathering was organized by a Boer merchant who supplied tools and various other general goods to people through General Stores.

    Few would recognize him, so he brought a small entourage of bureaucrats. Fellow bureaucrats dressed in their white shirts and dark coats, with all sorts of Victorian hats stood by his side. Any man with any sort of common sense would know who the man in the centre was.

    He made house calls with the various merchants, greeting them, and shaking their hands. They introduced them to their families. Their sons, and especially their daughters, forced a smile on their faces while shaking his hand. To tell the truth, he didn''t like the current state of women''s rights in the town. The workforce was rather limited due to the small number of Boers. If women were involved in the workplace, that number would double. But it was likely all support he had would eviscerate immediately and even his father would call him a stupid idiot for purposing turning everyone against him. At that time, even Pretorius won''t even save him.

    Like the women who were indoctrinated from their youth to be the perfect wives, he could only force smiles as the merchants wanted to play their games of politics here. He could not blame them, the only reason he was here was also due to politics.

    The more interesting group were the group he calls the Intelligentsia. They were well-educated descendants of the middle and merchant class. The conversation there was the most interesting. They were all young, ambitious men talking about various political affairs. They spoke in English, clearly influenced by the influence of Great Britain.

    "I hate living in this backward place with my family! I want to see the wonders of London! But my stupid father wants me to inherit his business!"

    "Go to London for what? Smell the smog in the air. See the trash in the River Thames. No thanks. I rather go try the restaurants in Paris, perhaps the coffee houses in Austria."

    Young ambitious men who wanted to see the world. They were potentially useful. Sure, they are young idealists, the only issue is when ideals crash with reality. The only reason the men aren''t under his employ, was because they turned their noses upward at his offer. Who wanted to manage a small town full of farmers?

    But this is the Victorian era, not the era of multiculturalism we have in the developed world in the 21st century. So instead of multiculturalism, the prominent schools of thought were the prototypes of Communism, Fascism, Nationalism and Racial Supremacism.

    "It is our burden to civilize the elves. The elves won''t do it themselves. So, we must help them."

    One of them spoke up, and they all nodded in agreement.

    "Imagine being born as an elf, lacking the wonders of the enlightenment, not understanding how the world around them works. They must not also know that foul smells cause diseases! Imagine how many of them perish from all these. It is truly our burden."

    "The heathenistic and primitive cultures shall be enlightened by gunpoint. We will cleanse their savagery out, whether they want it or not. It is our duty as humans."

    There was little he could use to identify the culprit of that poster. Even if he could, what should he do? Argue against them? He was here to win political support, not make enemies. If being an abolitionist kills him, then he will wait till being an abolitionist is in vogue.

    "Greetings gentlemen, I''m the Commando of this part of Port Mpande, Jan Boddewijk. Pleased to make your acquaintance," Jan entered their group with all smiles.

    They stopped their conversation and turned to face him. Dressed in similar Victorian wear, they observed him.

    "Commando Jan, it is also a pleasure to meet you. I heard you''ve studied at South Elfrica College. How was your time there?" A man shook his head.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    "It was¡­ fine for the most part. Enjoyable., though I would rather have studied at Oxford or Cambridge. Unluckily, I''m no genius, and couldn''t clinch any scholarships in the Cape Colony," Jan made it the fuck up.

    "Yeah, I also want to study at Oxford. But my father is unwilling to sponsor it! He thinks I''ll run away or something once I''m done."

    "That''s because he knows that you aren''t serious about studying. You''re only there to sightsee in Great Britain. You''ll probably drop out after one semester."

    "Fuck you! You''re the one who will drop out after one semester!"

    "Commando Jan, what do you think of adopting democratic systems in place? Like universal voting rights?"

    "I might support such measures, but I don''t think it would be good. Most men can''t even read or write. So how can we expect them to tick the right box in the ballet sheet?"

    "You could hire a cartoonist to draw the face of the candidates besides the box. But you''re right. It would be hard to explain how it works to men who have no formal education."

    "Commando Jan, I saw some machinery being hauled from one of the ships the other day. Are you establishing some factories here?"

    "Well¡­ it is still in the experimental phase. We don''t know where setting up the industry is efficient or even effective in the first place. So, It is a small test run, it would produce some locally-made canned food. I hope you and your family would be able to support this endeavour."

    "That depends. Father does not like to buy expensive things."

    It was clear what anyone would think after talking to these men. Pretentious, know-it-alls, who presume they know everything about the world due to the books they read. That was what he could use to describe the local intelligentsia. Perhaps it would be different in Europe where the intelligentsia was more well-established due to local universities. Respectable works like Thus Spoke Zarathustra and The Underground Man by Nietzsche and Dostoevsky respectively could be produced by all so respectable intelligentsia.

    "Would any of you be interested in working for the local administration? I could use skilled, educated men like you all to run things here."

    The vast majority refused.

    "I''m still waiting for Oxford to send over my admissions letter. So, I must refuse, apologies."

    "My family is planning to move over to Cape Colony. Father said it was too dangerous due to how near we are to the periphery of savages."

    There were a scant few who were interested.

    "How much can one make?"

    "What do you need me to do?"

    "For starters, we have two Boer districts. Each district is divided into corporalships. You will work on the ground, interacting with the residents in the corporalship. In the outbreak of hostilities, you will have the same authority as a corporal."

    "Then what about Veldkornets?"

    "I have not figured out who to appoint to as Veldkornet, but it would most likely be the head of the bureaucrats, Russell Corbyn, who you will be reporting to. Militarily, a Veldkornet is similar to a senior non-commanding officer."

    "Then the Commando is a commanding officer?"

    "Yes. And on top of the Commando is the Commando-General, and that is Andries Pretorius."

    "I might be interested. But I hope I do not have to address any of you as sir."

    Jan scratched the back of his head.

    "Well, I''m not too strict about the military hierarchies. Pretorius might be strict about it. But we shall see, I''m not looking to start a war anytime soon."

    "Hey, hey. Actually, why not have the Veldkornet be elected from amongst the people? In the outbreak of conflict, the Veldkornet should be someone popular among the people so that they can pass down the Commando''s orders. I don''t think appointing the head of administration, who is also an Englishman, as Veldkornet would be a good idea."

    "Remember! Aristotle! These people can''t read or write!" A young man rebutted.

    The other shook his head and apologised for saying nonsense.

    They had many ideas and wanted them implemented. But in this patriarchal, traditional Boer society? Such things get one killed.

    Nothing changed, because the next day he saw more posters being put up by the human supremacist on the fence.

    ELVES ARE INFERIOR! HUMANS ARE SUPERIOR!

    Now that person didn''t even bother to use logic anymore, going straight for the emotional centre of the brain. At first, he was fine with it, but now, clearly whoever did this is an attention seeker. Now he''s annoyed.

    Heading straight for the town hall, he marched to Russell''s office. Opening the door, Russell dropped pieces of paper onto the floorboards. Jan raced forward to help him pick it up. Tidying them into a neat pile, he put them right back on the desk.

    "Well, Jan. How can I help you?" Russell placed his head against the ground, checking to see if any paper had gotten underneath the desk.

    "Someone is putting up posters on the fence. I want to know who did it. The words are printed using a printing press. So, I must ask, who imported or last purchased a printing press?"

    "A couple of merchants come to mind. But I need more to narrow the scope."

    "Alright then. I suspect that one of the merchants is directly involved. Whoever did this did not even bother to think about making a profit? How about their descendants? Any of them have children that are in their teens, and know how to read or write?"

    "That''s still a lot to narrow down."

    "Alright then. I think their family owns slaves, specifically, elven ones."

    "That did not narrow it down at all. Many of these merchants own slaves."

    "Fine. Focus your investigations on the head behind the previous day''s saboteurs. This is a small matter. Get those ruffians who clean the streets every day at the town hall to tear them down."

    The next day, the whole wall was clustered with posters repeatedly saying the same thing. Some were even taunting Jan. Jan caressed his forehead and watched as men desperately tore down the posters.

    "I don''t think you should try to even fight with whoever that done this. I feel that he or she might escalate it to cover the whole town in posters if we mishandle this."

    "I do not negotiate with terrorists. If he dares to plaster the whole town in it, then the town can lynch him on my behalf."

    The next, next day.

    "Oh my god."

    Jan remarked as he saw the whole town is covered in posters. Every wall, every alleyway had this poster in it. There''s even a poster put right on the town hall, taunting him. For the sake of the children, he decided to take down the poster. Not because he was a tiny bit infuriated with the joker, or that his pride was being inflicted. No, no, no. It was because the poster was ruining the atmosphere the town hall was trying to give.

    It would be like going to a fine dining establishment to eat food on a plate covered with advertisements. It would be a travesty. So, for the sake of all that is good, he removed it.

    Cracking his knuckles, he mumbled to himself, "This is war."

    He got together some of his bureaucrats and organized a stakeout in the inn opposite the town hall. In one of the rooms facing the town hall, they carefully watched it. The perpetrator wanted to mess with him. So there was no doubt the perpetrator would come again to plaster another poster.

    "Aren''t we spending too much time just to catch a simple vandal? If they''re going to keep escalating this, they''re gonna be caught, one way or another," Russell commented, but Jan kept his eyes peeled on the window.

    "This is personal. Somebody is trying to fuck with me. So, I need to fuck them."

    "You''re taking things way too personally. If we catch this man, please don''t execute him. I do not wish for the town to become no different to a feudal kingdom where we can''t insult the king."

    Jan saw something.

    "Shh¡­ I see somebody. Someone is creeping up the town hall with a poster in hand. They''re holding a small lantern. I can''t see their face for here."

    "Then what are you waiting for, let''s go catch them."

    "No, no, no. I read enough novels. The perpetrator might be using them as a decoy. I will sit here and catch them red-handed."

    The individual put up the poster. Putting the lantern in front of themselves, they lit up the poster And Jan could see it being filled with even more swear words. One of them was calling him a CENSORED.

    He charged out of the room and ran after the asshole who put the poster up. As the individual was walking away, carrying more bundles of posters in their hands, he yelled at them, "Stop in the name of the law!"

    "You son of a bitch! I finally got you! Do you think you can talk smack about me without me doing anything? Well, think again bucko! I''m going to fuck you up!"

    "Really? Should I scream sexual assault then? I can yell pretty loud. The whole town would be able to hear," A feminine voice responded.

    "¡­"

 Chapter 28: Property Rights

    "Where''s your guardian?" One of the bureaucrats asked in Elfrikaans. Jan turned to look him in the eye to check if he had any funny ideas, but the stern looks on their face made him think otherwise.

    It was the Victorian era, after all. Women''s rights were practically non-existent. No, that will be the wrong phrase to use, it should be limited.

    "These are dangerous parts. Who knows what will happen to you without your guardian?" Another pointed out, but the woman moved to the side and showed the musket being slung on her back.

    The men could only frown.

    "It is not a toy. It is a rather dangerous weapon. You might hurt yourself."

    The woman frowned, and Jan feared the matter might escalate so he decided to step in personally.

    "What''s with all the posters being put up? If you have any issues, you could speak to the local Commando," He spoke in Dutch and observed the woman before him. Her tanned skin was an indication of someone in the rural class. Her face was similar as if they have met before.

    "Commando Jan, we met at the gathering hosted by one of the merchants. I did not want to go, but my family forced me. But if you don''t mind, allow me to speak freely," The woman spoke in English, clearly knowing what''s Jan preferred language was.

    "Go ahead."

    The men around him relaxed. It was only a woman; it was unlikely she would pose much of a threat.

    "Boer society is inherently patriarchal. A patriarch sits at the top and determines how things are run. Women are side-lined in such a society and are even discriminated against. When I was at home, I always looked out the window and found the female elves walking about in broad daylight without guardians. The Boers shot them nasty glares, but they were free. I wished for that sort of freedom, but no one around me supported it. Even my friends who grew up indoctrinated by their families paid no heed."

    "So, you want equal rights to men? Like how the elves are seen in their society? But that is untrue. Because the elves organise themselves in a matriarchy. Females hold most of the leadership positions. And men are side-lined to do tasks that the other elves refused to do," Jan rebutted, looking around him. The bureaucrats on his side were unsympathetic. They didn''t care about such things. They only wish for either their daily life to continue peacefully, or that their living standards to improve.

    "No, I wish for men and women to see as equals. There is no difference in whether a man or a woman rules. The elves can organize themselves around a woman. Humans can organize themselves around a man. Why can''t elves organize themselves around a man? Why can''t humans organize themselves as a woman? There is no difference in capabilities between a man and a woman, and I wish that society see it that way."

    He took one more glance around him, before saying, "I understand what you wish for. But my hands are tied. You should know it is political suicide to push for such measures. I do not know whether Andries Pretorius will support me if even his supporters oppose such a measure. A couple of weeks ago, we had to put them down in a revolt. If we push this, I fear we will have another revolt on our hands. While I cannot guarantee what you wish immediately, I can guarantee that I will make incremental changes, dependent on public approval."

    "Then the posters shall continue to be put up. Now leave me be before another scandal besmirches your name," The woman stormed off in a huff.

    Jan left, while the bureaucrats cracked jokes at the woman''s expense, seeing her as a fool.

    "What is this? Property rights? You''re going to allow women to have property rights?" Head of Administration, Russell scanned the title of the papers being prepared.

    "No, a woman already has property rights. It''s just that married women lacked such rights, and their property all passed to their husbands. I would like for a married woman to have property rights."

    Russell shook his head.

    "Political suicide. Why would any husband support this measure? The only way you''re going to get this through without some unrest is if an incident is sparked."

    "So, something along the lines of an honest woman who worked hard on her family farm, giving her all to her family. But the husband is an indulgent wastrel, who gambled and drank all the money away. The woman is now demanding to take ownership of the husband''s property to raise their children because quote, in her own words, ''that fool clearly cannot manage his finances''. You think a sob story like this would work?"

    Russell began thinking and nodded.

    "Possibly, but who is going to trick everyone with such a sob story?"

    "Look up all the merchants in town with a printing press. Narrow it down to unmarried daughters. Narrow it down to their daughters with tanned skins."

    Russell smirked, "I presume that is your preference, sir?"

    "¡­"

    "First batch of canned food produced by Belgium Canned Co. I have already tasted a can. I believe it is suitable to your palate, at least that''s what my Dutch customers would say, but perhaps the Elfrican climate has changed your palate," Canned Food Manufactory manager Siebe Baert explained. He passed a can to Jan.

    "How do I open this?" Jan twisted and turn the can, looking for a familiar metal ring to pull. It did not exist.

    "You need to use a hammer and a chisel," Siebe reached for the two and angled them against the can.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    "Isn''t this a little too extreme?"

    "It''s the easiest way to do it. Until some genius comes up with a better way to open this damn thing!" Siebe began hammering against the chisel and slowly chiselled away the top. Removing the lid off the can, he revealed corn beef.

    "You could eat it raw, but I recommend cooking it. Especially if you''re on the march. But you could ask some of your elf servants to cook it for you during any military campaigns."

    "How many can you make?"

    "We initially could make about six cans per hour, but we''re slowly increasing the rate we could make them by increasing the workers. Making the cans is the biggest bottleneck, if we could make them faster, we could make more. The price is absurd for the poor, as I''ve said, it is a novelty item. There''s also a reason why a few militaries adopted it. It is absurdly expensive to feed a soldier."

    Jan walked around the workshop floor, watching the Dutchmen making cans and cooking food.

    "Tell you what. I''m not planning on going on any campaigns anytime soon. So, give these initial batches to the local merchants. I''ll still pay the cost in full. Try to get them to purchase a few cans for novelty''s sake. If you''re unable to get any orders, I''ll order some more cans to subsidise the production cost. I could use some for future military campaigns. Perhaps Pretorius might be interested in some, he likely has deeper pockets."

    "I will ramp up production if it is needed. But I am still trying to train the workers. I''ll let you know if England has any new machinery that can help with throughput. My Belgian associate would let you know if they have copied the mechanics of such machinery and replicated it in Belgium."

    ''Looks like Belgium is this period''s China¡­''

    "You know, madam. We have met a couple of times, but I don''t remember your name."

    "My father told you my name a couple of times at the gathering, I presumed you were not paying attention."

    "Why should I? I was mainly concerned with building rapport with the local urbanites."

    The woman who vandalised the walls with posters was currently meeting him in his office. Her father did not bat an eye upon hearing the two''s meetings, seeking to profit off it.

    "By the way, may I ask that you did this?" Jan placed a poster on the desk. It was a racist human supremacist poster saying that elves were inferior or whatnot.

    "I see why you seemed shocked that I may make something like this considering our previous conversation. But I can assure you, I have little to do with it. I have no ill feelings for the elves. I admire them. That was why my posters specifically target you."

    "For most people, infuriating them makes them less likely to listen to you. You''re lucky I give you the time or day to listen to you."

    "Cathelijn Buncke, daughter of a family that makes a living of printing presses. Commando Jan, a pleasure to meet you."

    "Jan Boddewijk, Commando of Port Mpande. It''s a pleasure to meet you."

    Jan began divulging his plans about the fake story he wanted to cook up so that he could drum up support from the locals to push through this reform.

    "I did say I would do something about it. Although I would not be able to push for women''s rights, it is a small step in the right direction."

    "Why are you doing this? You''re a man, aren''t you?" Cathelijn studied Jan from head to toe, confirming his masculine attributes. It was hard to determine due to his weak physique, unbefitting of a Commando.

    "It''s very simple. You should know we number in the hundreds or the thousands here in Elfrica. The elves number in the tens of thousands. Now take our numbers and divide them by half. That''s how many contribute to the local economy or even defend their towns. Women''s rights would allow us to use all the resources we have."

    "Is that all you see us? Humans as resources?"

    "I''m not the only one. And don''t complain so much if it''s helping your cause."

    Cathelijn frowned.

    "Alright. I''ll spread the fake news you''ve planned. Consider it a test run of sorts for our partnership. If you do your job well. Then you have a human resource that can sway public approval."

    The fence divided both parts of the town. It kept his job, keeping people out from each side of the town. Either side had volunteer guards watching the other side, and people who wanted to pass through the gate had to give a good reason to both sides. But mostly, they usually said no, grinning at the dissatisfaction blooming on the individual''s face.

    Still, there were reports of illicit trade being conducted, breaking the edict implemented by Pretorius, blocking all trade from the Zulus. Jan did circumvent it once for the burgeoning can food workshop and didn''t respect the edict. But the majority of the population, the rural farmers who live off homesteaders were extremely concerned with such trade. And the establishments in the port had to show their patriotic support to buying local as they''ve put up Boer supremacist signs outside all their establishments.

    NO DOGS OR ELVES ALLOWED

    WE SERVE HUMAN WATER NOT ELVEN PISS

    HUMANS ARE SUPERIOR

    The last one had people nodding their heads as they pass by the establishment. It was obvious whoever instigated this planned to do it. They wanted to put pressure on him to firmly enforce the edict put up by Pretorius. Else, they''re going to escalate it and bring Pretorius once more. And the second time, it was likely he was going to be sacked and Pretorius would install someone else to do the job. He can only run back home to his father''s district to lick his wounds.

    Due to the wave of human supremacism spreading, he had fewer and fewer contact with the elves. He had not seen Nokuthula in weeks and did not plan to do so very soon. Last time, it was to make the deal for cheap Zulu food to be used in the canneries. But now, any contact might get him deposed.

    He watched the Zulus go by their day-to-day business on the other side of the fence. Before the escalation of tensions, the Zulus were slowly adopting human culture. They wore human clothes and ate human food from time to time. But he could see how the elves began wearing their traditional clothes once more, clothing that was best suited for the Elfrican climate.

    He watched the guards, suspecting that it was them facilitating the trade. They were the only possible suspects. But their lazy eyes as they leaned against the fence to snore told him otherwise. It wasn''t that simple to resolve.

    But he headed to his real destination, the Anglican Church, led by an English missionary that hailed from England. The missionary was frustrated with the fence put up, cutting off their attempts to civilize the natives. The more he thought about it, the foreign missionaries had more reasons to trade with the Zulus to increase contact with them. It was likely they didn''t care whether the locals were angry. What were the locals going to do? Kill them? They''re not savages after all.

    "Pastor Jeremy Pierce, a pleasure to meet you. Apologies for the recent turmoil, I am sorry for all the trouble it has caused."

    "Commando Jan Boddewijk, that is not a problem. Because the Zulu side of town is sealed off. That elf traffickers are forced to stick to the Boer side of town. It is easier to track their whereabouts."

    "I hope you do not cause too much trouble, pastor. You should understand that slavery is legal in this town. I do not support it; you know my personal feelings on the matter. But my people support it, and there''s little I could do to change it."

    The pastor frowned.

    "It is wrong, a sin to enslave another being! In England, we never had any laws on slavery! I''ll make sure to not implicate you, Commando. But I''ll apologize for any incidents resulting from my investigations."

    Jan grinned.

    "Let''s talk about more important matters. You see, somebody is sniffing your activities pastor. Someone is not following the guidelines set by Pretorius on trade with the Zulus. And I suspect you''re the one involved."

    The pastor grimaced.

    "Although we live under such savage laws, we do abide by them from time to time. Although those farmers love to mark up their prices¡­"

    "I say that because I remember the clothes donation drive for the Zulus. Since the Zulu compound is gated, where would those clothes go? They should go to the Boers, right? But how come I have not heard any praises in the markets about the nice English missionaries handing out free clothes to the Boers? I think our Boers do deserve charity; we are not wealthy by any means. The poorest Englishman is probably living much better than the poorest Boer."

    "The Church''s business is not your place to interfere in, Commando. You respect our boundaries, and we respect yours, Commando."

    Jan shook his head.

    "But I gave you much leeway. You are free to pursue those slaveowners seeking to sell their slaves to foreigners. I don''t care, I am willing to cover you if one of them starts making a ruckus. But when I ask you to give charity to Boers, you refuse. Let me describe it from another point of view that is beneficial to the Church. You see, your main operations are in Boer town. Then wouldn''t it be best to increase support with the locals so that they would support your future operations? Right now, the rural farmers are complaining due to the illicit trade with the Zulu. Maybe if you give them charity, you could influence them to do as you say."

    "It will take a long time for any of the things you say to come through, Commando."

    "But we''re playing the long game pastor. You''ve built a Church here, haven''t you? You plan to play the long game with me, right?"

    "¡­"

 Chapter 29: Landowners

    From the first harvesting season, some accrued a rather vast quantity of wealth. These men started buying up plots of land around them. The men that the faction belonged to were known as landowners. They were much easier to deal with ordinary trekkers, who would uproot themselves if they were displeased with his rule. But they were intending to settle down and build up the town with him. But they wanted privileges in doing so.

    "We''re not like the Aristocrats of the medieval ages or like the burghers of the Dutch East India Company. We are open to new ways of running our farmland. Because I have heard from some sources that you''re an abolitionist. Is that true?"

    Jan nodded, and the Dutch landowner continued.

    "That''s good. Because you see, I do not want to be like a king and clothe, feed, and manage slaves. Others might have other thoughts on the matter, but that is my thoughts. Although to placate them, I don''t see you changing the current slavery laws anytime soon."

    "Alright then, enough small talk. Let us discuss why I have called you over. On behalf of the various landowners, I, Hein Hindriks, am wondering how you will deal with the current rumours spreading around. The one where the woman is abused by her husband, and there is little her family could do about it. Some of us have daughters, and we worry about their welfare. I do not have much wealth like the aristocrats of Europe, so I am unable to procure a sizeable dowry. So how will you protect our daughters?"

    Jan pretended to be in deep thought, before explaining his thoughts.

    "I''m planning to allow women to have property rights. That way, the husband will not be able to possess all of their wife''s property upon the marriage. This would allow the wives to be protected from unhappy marriages. That way if a divorce is proposed, the wife will not have everything taken from her."

    Hein scratched his beard.

    "That may not do. I know a good many men who benefit from such arrangements. They are likely to oppose such measures being implemented. Those rumours might have sparked some people to support this, but I doubt it can be implemented without another revolt. These men are likely to instigate unrest."

    "Do you want to protect your daughters or not? Do you have the funds to procure a suitable dowry to ensure their protection? Then support me and prevent these men from creating turmoil in the town. Work with me here, and we will both benefit."

    Hein sighed.

    "I do not have much influence as we''ve recently accrued our wealth and land. There is not much I can say to stop them. Why don''t you mobilize the men if things go south?"

    Jan looked to the side, looking at the window.

    "You should know very well I have little influence among the rural farmers. If I mobilize them, I doubt much of them would show up on my side. They will likely join the people revolting."

    "My hands are tied."

    "Then you can continue to keep them tied along with your daughters'' welfare. Come to me once you''re ready to untie them."

    Giving women property rights would likely increase the workforce. Instead of men managing their estates, their wives could manage them in their stead, and these wealthy men would invest in rather businesses, becoming capitalists. Then he could rely on their funds for new construction projects instead of constantly digging through the very limited budget on funding various projects.

    The rat bumped the other rat with its tail.

    "Commando Jan, this is my Prussian cousin, Eilert Biermann. He has set up a small mining firm called German Mining Co," The land surveyor, Bastion Haneke explained.

    "Ze name is still subject to changes. But I''ve decided to go with German Mining Co."

    "It''s a stupid name."

    "Ratfrica Mining Co is stupid. You don''t even do mining!"

    "It''s to trick others into thinking I could do so, so they would try to undercut me too harshly."

    "So, you''ve shown him the site? What do you think?" Jan asked.

    "Acceptable start. We could mine for a few months. The output will be low since we lack English mining machinery. Have to go with good old hand and pick," Eilert explained.

    "My cousin is willing to fork a rather generous sum for mining rights considering how far out we are from Industries that would consume coal." Bastion continued.

    "Consider it as an investment in ze future. Finding one mineral deposit would likely lead to more mineral deposits. I hope ze Dutchman would keep this Prussian rat in mind."

    Jan nodded.

    "When can you all start work?"

    "We gotta import some mining picks and get some workers. Then we have to build a supply chain to keep the whole thing running smoothly. Give us a month or two before we can start operations."

    "Machinery? You want to British machinery for mines?" The Belgian machinist merchant asked, confirming Jan''s words.

    "Well, you come to the right man. Those British capitalists charge stupidly absurd prices for their precious machinery. We''re already torn down a couple and figured out how they work. Belgian machinery is much cheaper, and considering how well you treated my associate, Siebe, I might be inclined to give you a discount. Tell me what you plan to do with the machinery first."This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Jan explained about the new mining operations he was intending to set up.

    "A new mining operation and you plan to go all out with machinery? Sounds like a poor idea, to be honest. It is best to let the mine operate for a couple of months so you could identify gaps in productivity that can be plugged with machinery. For example, for mines that stretched for kilometres, you may want railcars to bring the minerals out from the mine easily. Tsk Tsk."

    The Belgian clicked his tongue.

    "I can tell you all of the machinery that could be used to supercharge your operations but come to me once you''ve set up the mining operations and you''re seeking to expand it. The last thing I need is a customer looking for me for a refund because their mines went bankrupt.

    "We got some orders for our canned food. And we''re looking for additional funds to expand the business," Canned food factory manager, Siebe Baert explained.

    "Shouldn''t their orders help cover the cost?"

    "They weren''t willing to pay upfront, wanting to pay once their goods were delivered. Said that since the workshop was a new business, they didn''t want to take too much risk if it collapsed."

    "Lucky for you, I know men with money to spare."

    The individual he had called over to today''s meeting was the wealthy landowner, Hein Hindriks who marvelled at the various machinery in the workshop.

    "How can I help, Commando Jan?" He asked as he greeted Jan whilst entering the room.

    "Hein, this is Siebe Baert, the Belgian owner of this canned food workshop."

    "And Siebe, this is Hein Hindriks, a wealthy landowner in town."

    The men exchanged greetings and sat back down.

    "I''ve tried your canned food. It was rather delicious. And the fact I could bring it with me wherever I go without worrying about spoilage, it''s marvellous."

    "It might be marvellous, but it is rather expensive. That''s why I''m looking to have some funds to expand production to drive costs down. Various merchants are clamouring to lay their hands on it due to its various usages. But first and foremost, due to its prohibitive cost, it now stands as a luxury good. But I wish to drive costs down so that its more practical usages can be realized."

    "I can foot the bill, but how much of a stake in the business you''re willing to give?"

    The men hashed various details and Jan stood at the side overseeing it.

    "Commando Jan, as the man spearheading this, shouldn''t you also be involved? Why don''t you also invest your funds in this operation?" Hein asked.

    Jan shook his head.

    "I''m not very familiar with the business, I fear I may overstep my boundaries and inadvertently destroy the whole operation in the process."

    "You could buy a small stake then. You wouldn''t need to make many decisions on a day-to-day basis, leave it to the people who are experienced in doing so," Siebe explained.

    "Very well, how much can I buy?" Jan''s lips curled up.

    Hashing out an agreement, Jan and Hein walked back home where they began discussing other matters.

    "Commando Jan, I have discussed this with the other landowners. They were willing to support your measures. Push comes to shove, if unrest were to come from anyone, we will do our best to stifle them," The landowner explained.

    "So, are you supportive of such measures also being applied to other species? Like elves or rats?"

    The Dutch landowner looked at Jan as if he was asking a stupid question.

    "To be honest, I doubt much would care how other species lived. But if you wish to push this for other species, go ahead, I doubt much of the men in this town would stop you."

    "Then prepare for an edict being put up in the town in the coming weeks, I am counting on you to suppress most of the unrest."

    MARRIED WOMEN PROPERTY ACT

    A husband and a wife are two separate legal entities. They have the right to sue and be sued. Any damages that they must pay are their responsibility. They are also liable for their debts and are subject to bankruptcy laws. They are also able to own stock in their names.

    All husbands and wives are allowed to own, buy, and sell their properties.

    Penning the act to paper, Jan realised he forgot to do one very important thing, and that was to set up a legal system! Well, at the very least, they could start up their laws with this act.

    "Might be best to get a lawyer to oversee this. Although I don''t think it will be easy to find one here. Much of the rule of law is based on the popular opinion of the town," Head of Administration, Russell Corbyn remarked.

    "We have no lawyers here?"

    "To be fair, we lack courts. Or even laws to enforce. Any farmer could proclaim themselves as a lawyer."

    "Once we push this through. Let''s just say there are going to be many self-proclaimed lawyers in town going to argue against this."

    Jan handed the act to Russell who sent it to their propagandist, the daughter of a merchant family owning Printing Presses, who gleefully began printing them out in vast quantities.

    "We can easily enact that. Get me the latest copy of English law and a lawyer. We''re going go through them one by one and cross out the things I don''t like."

    He sent some bureaucrats to Port Natal to procure an English lawyer for him.

    But when the lawyer came and brought hundreds of papers explaining how some laws contradicted each other and the current law trends, Jan''s head exploded.

    "Alright. I tell you what. We''ll copy English laws. If there is a violation of that law, I will decide personally if we shall enforce it. And from there, we can cross out the laws we do not wish to enforce."

    The English lawyer smirked.

    "That is good. But for the time to bring me over here as well as the consultation, I have just given you. I wish for suitable compensation, Commando. You''re not a poor peasant, you''re a Commando. And if you''re unwilling to pay, I shall look for your father and tell the whole world how you''re someone who does not honour their words."

    Fuck. This is why he hated lawyers.

    Jan sighed, "Very well. You will be aptly compensated for the trouble I''ve brought upon you."

    When the town first heard the act, some twisted the meaning of that law.

    "The act harms women! Now their husbands are unable to protect them, and they''ll have to be responsible for any debts they owed!" The Boers argued in Dutch.

    The landowners did their part and hired men to barrack these men and argue with them.

    "What do you mean? If your wife takes out debt without your permission, are you willing to foot the bill? Maybe if it''s 5 shillings you wouldn''t complain. But what if it''s 1-pound sterling? Can you even afford the interest with your shit farmer income!"

    Of course, they held the line.

    "Women need guardians! They can''t be responsible for themselves! That''s why this law ultimately harms them in the end!"

    "If they can be responsible for your children, then I don''t see how they can''t be responsible for themselves! If what you say is true, then maybe you should take care of your children instead of leaving the responsibility to your wife!"

    They went back and forth for a few days until the fervour dribbled out as the farmers carried on with their lives, realizing that the law didn''t change much of their daily lives that much.

    Thanks to the landowners, they were unable to rile up the people to turn their ire against him. With a silent thanks to Hein, he pushed it through. But even with the law being enacted, there wasn''t much he could do to enforce it. The current system of justice was someone complaining about him. Jan then sends a couple of bureaucrats to investigate it. They tell him what they found, and he decides on a verdict.

    He needed a proper police force to enforce it.

    And the landowners were willing to pitch in. They were willing to fund their force to protect their property. And they were willing to provide that force to him to police his laws. The only problem with such an action was that it would give the landowners too much power. And he didn''t want to give them too much power. He already had problems dealing with the very powerful rural class of his population and had to rely on the newly formed landowners as a counterbalance to these farmers. He did not want the landowners to become a thorn on his side.

    The other option was more expensive. A dedicated police force fully funded by him. His budget was going to be eaten by the new government officials hired, but they were necessary to prevent any sort of corruption. If the landowner were involved, they were planning to profit from it somehow. No, if he roped in any political group to manage his police force, one way or another, they were going to find some way to profit from it. After all, the police force ultimately aimed for stability in this town so that he, Commando Jan Boddewijk profited. He cannot allow other political entities to pollute it.

    The best thing he could do would be to start a small operation at first. They would be somewhat better paid than what subsistence farmers make so they could be enticed into living in the urban areas. It would also help cover rent or the construction of a new building for them to live in.

    Drafting up a proposal, he handed it to Russell who looked over it.

    "Even if we put one together, what laws should they start enforcing?"

    "Perhaps let us start with littering. Those farmers whose cattle poop in the streets should be made to clean up their mess. Perhaps a couple of fines on them who made much from their harvest would be well deserved. Those fines could also go to fund this initial force."

    "Won''t the men be incentivised to give out as many fines as possible?"

    "Better than them being incentivised to collect as many bribes as possible."

 Chapter 30: Boer Zuid-Elfrica Co?peratie

    "Valentijn! Clean up the mess made by your cow or you will be fined!" The man barked in Dutch, pointing at the pile of shit on the road. The nearby cow mooed as the farmer glared at that man.

    "Mathijs! I was your neighbour before you moved here! Can''t you be lenient? You owned cows before, you know I can''t control where they shit!" The farmer pleaded in Dutch.

    "I''m very sorry, Valentijn. But rules are rules. Plus, these pay for my salary," Officer Mathijs silently mumbled the last part, before writing his old neighbour with a ticket.

    "What the fuck is this?" The farmer asked as the ticket was slapped on the cow''s ass. Valentijn removed the ticket from the cow''s ass and studied it.

    "You''re fining me, 1 penny! Fuck, you''re taking my liver! Fuck, you bastard."

    "Pay it at the town hall, or I''m impounding your cow. I know if you didn''t pay, Valentijn."

    The new small force of officers was deployed around town, and they were making sure the streets are kept clean. Due to how most of the men in town were armed, likewise, these officers were also armed with guns. It was a militarized police force, and they would not be lenient if someone tried to resist. It was too dangerous to be lenient in these parts.

    Plus, these men saw the higher wages they earned whilst working for him, so they were loyal, temporarily. They also knew the farmers passing by, and vice versa. So, the farmers did not try to get violent with their old friends and paid up the fines, which inadvertently paid these men their salaries. He told them that when he first hired them, and also that the best performers would get bonuses.

    It''s nice having free police, plus, the streets were getting cleaner. If the cows were taking a shit, they were doing it in alleyways no one can see. Thus, any newcomers to the town, would not have to deal with the smell of shit everywhere they walk.

    Especially for the volunteer cleaners, who sparked that incident by beating a random elf in the past, it made their job easier as they concentrated their efforts in the alleyways.

    "Ahh, Commando, do you need us to patrol the fence?" The officer noticed him and walked towards him. Jan savoured the man calling him Commando. If it was in the past, when the officer was a normal farmer, he would only call him Commando if pigs could fly. But with their incentives tied to one another, it feels good to turn him on his side.

    "No need. I doubt any elves would try to jump over it. Concentrate on your duties. I see you have done good work, perhaps you might get the bonus."

    "Thank you very much, sir," The officer went to another part of town to continue giving out more fines.

    He continued his walkabout, where the farmers paid little heed to him. Few recognized him, and even if they do, they did not want to acknowledge him as Commando. He ignored their gazes and studied the Churches. There were various churches set up by various missionaries, but the town lacked a Dutch Protestant Church as requested by Sarel Cilliers.

    Considering his lack of popular support among the rural classes, the only reason he was still in control was due to the men in Pietermaritzburg, he had to suck up to these men. Sarel Cilliers was someone he had to get in his good graces with, especially if another Boer-Elf conflict breaks out due to his abilities in creating a non-magic zone.

    Funds were tight, but there were some wealthy men he knew who settled in the town.

    The leader of the landowners, Hein Hindriks organized a social gathering for men like him who accrued plots of land around them due to the success of their harvest. Hein personally introduced him to every man, who was rather cold due to them being ex-farmers, but they admitted that they somewhat understood what he was seeking to achieve.

    "If I want to have slaves, the prices are absurd! How do I feed them due to the high food prices!" The Dutch landowner confessed. It seems the fellow completely misunderstood his intentions.

    Canned food was served at the gathering, and these men sampled canned food, probably for the first time in their lives. They sang praises of it upon tasting it, remarking that it was rather delicious and wondered how they could get more.

    Hein''s lips curled up as he went into his sales pitch promoting the canned food manufacturer that he had a decent stake. Jan''s lips curled up as well, as he benefitted from his pitch.

    "You''re not a man who goes to places without having some intentions. If you were the opposite, you would have gone on walkabouts around my farm to greet us, farmers," Hein saddled up to him with a glass of beer in his head. The beer was fermented from the maize he had grown and he had delicious-looking corn on display. As described by Hindriks, they were some of his recent harvests.

    "You''re right. I''ll go straight to the point. I would like to fund the construction of a Dutch Protestant Church, and I''ll need your assistance in funding the project."

    "About time. Many farmers complained as they had to travel to Pietermaritzburg to reach a Dutch Church. Some made do with the Anglican Church. So, what do you need, money? How much?"

    Jan shrugged.

    "Depending on how opulent the construction is. But I prefer if it is simple."

    "That can''t do. We can''t have our churches outdone by the English. At the very least, it should be better than the Anglican Church in town. Hmm¡­ since we have everyone gathered, why don''t we raise funds from them to fund such a construction?"

    Hein wandered off from him and walked to the centre of the room. Clapping his hands, everyone turned their heads to him.

    Speaking in Dutch, " Gentlemen, our Commando here is seeking to fund a Dutch Church."

    Rumbles were heard from everyone.

    "Fucking finally!"

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Do you know how annoying it is to travel to Pietermaritzburg!"

    "I was about to go to the Anglican Church this week¡­"

    Everyone momentarily glared at the traitor before returning their smiles to Hein.

    "We can''t be outdone by the English. Our Church has to look better than theirs! So I suggest everyone fund as much as they can. But not all of your money, reserve some for Winter. The one who gives the biggest amount gets to name the Church after themselves."

    Hein drove up fervours of discussion among the landowners, who discussed how much they were willing to give.

    "I hope you don''t mind if I overstepped my boundaries there, Commando Jan. But I believe we would now have a more beautiful Church compared to the English."

    "Thank you very much for your assistance, Hein Hindriks. I''ll ensure this project goes smoothly. I plan to bring Sarel Cilliers to lead the project."

    "Sarel Cillers? The pastor, Sarel Cillers?"

    Jan nodded and confirmed his words, surprise lit up Hein''s face.

    Somehow, this calm social event became an auction hall as Boers shouted bigger numbers about the number of pound sterlings'' they were willing to lose so that a building in town could be named after them. Somehow, Dale Carnegie knew how people worked in How to Win Friends and Influence People. Name things after themselves and see them go ballistic.

    "1 pound sterling!"

    "5-pound sterling!"

    "10-pound sterling!"

    The number raised before hitting a cap of 25-pound sterling. The Boer grinned and watched for any other hands to show up. After a minute or so, he boasted.

    "Hahaha! The Church''s going to be called Niek Plaizier''s Church! Hope you all enjoy saying my name every week!"

    The Boer did a little dance and prowled around the room. Nobody paid him any attention.

    "That should get you the funds necessary. Hell, I believe it''s more than enough," Hein Hindriks remarked.

    "We shall see. I believe Sarel Cillers'' isn''t a man of opulence. He would take the bare minimum, before giving the funds away as charity."

    "Joren Hoenderman, long time no see. I was wondering what you were up to," Jan remarked as the man who introduced him to the Volksraad appeared in his face.

    "Jan, apologies for not seeing you more often. I was busy in Winburg. My family has a business up there."

    ''Winburg¡­'' Jan thought to himself and remembered a certain man who was heading in that direction. That man had the same name as him, Jan. Commando Jan de Winnaar was heading in that direction, perhaps they''d met.

    "I''ve tried my best to come back upon hearing the unrest. But it seems Pretorius handled it. I''ve heard the gist of things from him. It seems the rural farmers don''t support you."

    "A summary."

    "I''ve noticed from your various policies that you seem to favour the urban dwellers more. Why is that so?"

    "They aren''t loyal. These men would pack up and move to another town if they wanted to. Unlike the burgeoning landowners or the urban dwellers, they don''t see Port Mpande as their home. So, why should I bother trying to gain the support of such men?"

    "Maybe if you favoured them, they wouldn''t move to another town and choose to settle here instead."

    Jan frowned.

    "That is possible. But the food they grow is widely available. I could buy them from other Boer towns or even the Zulus. Why should they be treated as if their food could mean life or death for this town?"

    "Those men are the backbone of a Commando. These are the men who will be mobilized and fight by your side. Those landowners might have accrued much wealth but if you try to bring them to a fight, I doubt they would be able to contribute. The urban dwellers are like these landowners. Those that are richer will act like them, while the rest will be the soldiers under your command. Plus, you shouldn''t be reliant on other towns for food. Even the Zulu."

    Joren shook his head.

    "I know you''re thinking that Pretorius could get them to fall in line. But in a battle or a war? These men will be under your command. Would you rather have loyal or disloyal men?"

    Joren stopped talking and let his words sink in.

    Jan nodded.

    "You''re right. But how can I win back the loyalty of these men?"

    "Treat them well. I suppose. The next planting season is in April. They''re going to spend lots of money on seeds. Perhaps you can subsidise their expenses?"

    "No¡­ I have a better idea."

    "Commando Jan Boddewijk, I never expect you to be here," The merchant sat comfortably in his seat and smiled.

    "There are all sorts of seed suppliers in town. I am looking to personally procure seeds for the farmers. I will buy in bulk, representing them all personally. Yes, I will procure all their seeds for them on their behalf. I expect a generous offer, or else I will go to your competitor down the street."

    "Enticing offer," The seed supplier spread his hands out, continuing, "But what kind of seeds do you need?"

    "My men are going about surveying the farmers individually and asking them what seeds they plan to procure next Spring. I will hand you the list in a month. I expect that you''ll be able to prepare it by the next planting season."

    Leaning against the table, Jan asked, "How much of a discount are you willing to offer? Do understand. If I do not work with you, you will not be seeing any sales this Spring."

    The merchant stammered before getting a hold of himself.

    "I doubt you will be able to get the farmers to fall in line with your wishes. I have developed extensive relations with them, and they would procure their seeds from me, no matter what you plan to do."

    "Oh, I''ll tell you what I''m planning on doing. I''m planning on setting up a farmer''s cooperative to procure those seeds. From now on, any dealings will have to be done through the cooperative."

    The merchant snorted.

    "With the independent nature of Boers widely known, I doubt you could coerce them to follow along with your plans."

    "My men may like to be independent. But economics win in the end. There is no way any other merchant will be able to offer them better prices than what the cooperative can offer."

    "You speak of this jargon. But what is this cooperative?"

    "It''s farmers grouping with one another to pool their needs together into a single organization. Think of it as a farmers'' union. From now on, all business will be conducted with this cooperative. Procurement of seeds? Done through the cooperative. Selling of crops? Done through the cooperative."

    "I see. But I still doubt that you will be able to put together such an organization."

    "Suit yourself," Jan bid the merchant goodbye and made his pitch somewhere else.

    "The farmers don''t understand what we are proposing. But as long as we told them they would be able to buy cheaper seeds and sell their crops for higher prices, they were immediately interested."

    "Have you identified a suitable candidate to represent the farmers in the cooperative?"

    Russell shook his head.

    "We are working on it. But it is hard to get a feel of who represents who. For now, we should leave it to one of our bureaucrats who was an ex-farmer. I''m sure they will be able to manage it well due to their experience."

    Jan groaned.

    "Not the best of circumstances, sadly. I rather have the farmers participate in this project to ensure they will be more invested in this."

    "Not every farmer will be interested in participating in such an organisation politically. I would find those who are extremely interested in helming such an organisation suspicious. After all, if you were doing well as a farmer, why would you care about managing such affairs? You would focus on tending to your fields. I fear that those who might be interested are poor farmers and should not even be tasked with leading."

    "And then they''ll make their money off kickbacks given by the merchants?"

    Russell nodded and sighed.

    "But it needs a good name, what shall we name the cooperative?" Jan asked.

    "How about the Boers Agricultural Farming Cooperative or BAFC?"

    "It''s too long and has too much jargon. We need something sweet and short that a farmer could easily remember."

    "Boer-Cooperative?" Russell proposed.

    "Too generic, something that has some staying powers in their minds would be the best. Perhaps something that has some historical significance."

    "Wait, I got it. How about the Boer South Elfrica Cooperative? I thought that it sounded reminiscent of the Dutch East India Company or the VOC. In Dutch it translates to Boer Zuid-Elfrica Co?peratie or BZEC."

    "Remove the Z and we''re left with the BEC. I suppose the name could stick. Let''s give it a try."

    Russell brought over numerous documents and requested Jan to sign every one of them. Taking a cursory glance at each document, he promptly signed them all and handed them to Russell.

    "With those signed, the Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie has been formed. I believe these documents would hold more sway over the merchants."

    Russell produced a thick stack of papers.

    "These are signatures from the various farmers indicating their support for the cooperative. With the documents and these signatures, I bet those seed suppliers will start paying more attention to you. Hopefully, you''ll be able to secure better deals."

    Jan smiled and thanked Russell.

 Chapter 31: Veldkornet

    "Here''s another way the cooperative can increase the prices of the farmer''s crops. Instead of farmers'' making a beeline to the markets to sell their crops, dropping the prices dramatically, they could stagger the selling of their crops. It will ensure a constant price instead of a glut created by this sudden increase in supply," Jan explained to Russell.

    "That sounds great on paper, but we will need someone of great authority to represent the farmers to be able to get them to fall in line. I''m sure the merchants will pull nasty tricks to make farmers break rank and ruin the plan."

    "Then let us conduct a census and organize the farms into corporalships and appoint corporals to represent these men. These corporals can elect a Veldkornet amongst themselves. This Veldkornet shall be the head of the cooperative. It''s about time we formally organize the various districts and for me to act as a Commando."

    "Do you suspect a conflict on the horizon?" Russell asked.

    "We''re in a hostile land. The land wants us dead. The natives want us dead. The conflict has always been all around us. It''s just that I''ve been busy setting up this town. But with the basic structures in place, we can focus on interacting with the outside world."

    Jan held a piece of paper in his hands. The turmoil in Port Mpande made him focused internally on the town for the past few weeks, and there were still many things he can improve. He didn''t want to dip his toes to micromanage things and decided it would be best to leave it to the citizens to decide how things were run.

    Yet, events in the outside world continued.

    Pretorius on behalf of the Boers sent a declaration to the British declaring a free and independent state under the title of ''The Republic of Pietermaritzburg'' and adjacent countries. The towns of Winburg and Potchefstroom all joined in the declaration. The so-called territories stretched from the Natal region to the Free State and Transvaal regions. But no matter how much they presented themselves as a united front, Jan knew that each town was led by a Commando, and they had their wishes on dealing with various matters.

    Governor Commander in Chief of Cape Colony, Sir George Napier, did not send an answer to the declaration but returned an amiable response. Notably, Pretorius stopped claiming Port Natal as part of Boer territory, which probably puzzled the British. This Boer was extremely insistent on taking Port Natal, but he suddenly stopped, why is that so?

    "Why did Andries Pretorius stop his claims to Port Natal? Choosing to only stick with Pietermaritzburg?" Governor George Napier sat at his desk in deep thought.

    For one thing, he was internally glad. It would be troublesome if the Boers decided to use force to seize the port. On the other hand, he was puzzled. The puzzling feelings made him feel as if something was at play.

    ''The only reason he would stop is if he got another port. The only port nearby is Port Natal, so that can''t be it. Unless he decided to give up on his notion and focus on the Elfrican hinterlands.''

    He held a report in his hands. Trade from the Boers nearby to Port Natal decreased sharply sometime this year around June. The only notable events were the conquest of various Zulu lands by the Boers. So, no matter how he put two to two together, the only thing he could figure out was that the Boers had become isolationist and focused on trading amongst themselves. Or that they had a port? Which was impossible since these farmers lacked the expertise to construct one in the first place.

    An investigation needs to be called. He wrote up a decree and had it sent by some men. They were going to send additional men to Port Natal. From there, they would lead an investigation on the ongoings of the Natalia Republic. Pretorius would grumble about the supposed violation of their sovereignty, but as a British citizen, he should know better than to oppose the might of the British Empire.

    It was clear how history was supposed to go. Without Port Mpande constructed with Zulu''s assistance, Pretorius would have led an assault on Port Natal eventually. The British would retaliate and annex the Republic causing the mass exodus into the Free States and Transvaal, which would form the two Boer Republics, the Oranje Free States and the Transvaal Republic, or South Elfrica Republic.

    But things were different with the port. Pretorius could look outward and focus on having diplomatic ties with other Great Powers to contest British influence in Elfrica.

    "The only Power I see that has any use would be the French. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth is busy focusing on keeping their empire together whilst keeping the centaur hordes at bay. Any colonization efforts would be focused on the East. The Spanish could be a decent choice, but their efforts are mainly concentrated on their outposts in South America and North America. The Portuguese have a longstanding relationship with the British, so any agreements made against the British would likely not have their support," Jan pointed to the numerous states on the map.

    "That''s a lot of leverage the French have. Any negotiations would be on unfair grounds. They will see us as a protectorate rather than an equal."

    "Not exactly. They want to influence Elfrica. From their point of view, they would see us as tools to contest against the British. I say we pay lip service to them and leech off their goodwill."

    "I hope that''s not how you see our relationship, Jan," Pretorius remarked. Jan shook his head.

    "Of course not. You are the reason why I am a Commando today."

    "But you see, I think Egypt might be a good friend. The British have put their support behind the sick man of Europe, the Ottomans. No doubt because they see them, like the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, as another bulwark to the centaur hordes in the Steppes. Egypt has marched their troops into Anatolia and has begun negotiations with the Ottomans on a peace deal. Muhammad Ali Pasha of Egypt would likely like to pay back the British," Pretorius pointed at the Sinai Peninsula.

    "How should we begin diplomatic contact with them?"

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    "Send a couple of Boers with some Egyptian merchants at Port Mpande and send them to Cairo. If they are amiable, we can send envoys. I cannot leave for such a mission because I must manage the fledging, Natalia Republic. Nor should you leave, because Port Mpande is a very important asset to the Republic. But if you wish, you may appoint a representative on your behalf, subject to my approval," Pretorius explained, studying Jan''s expressions.

    It was clear Pretorius was strongarming him still, reminding him that he had little influence on the people in the Port, and that he was the one still in charge.

    "Pretorius, do you fear that conflict will break out?" Jan asked, getting a strange feeling.

    Pretorius sighed.

    "You see, Jan. The men under my command wish to settle in more land. At first, they wished to strike the Xhosa territories, seeing how the other Boers were successful in the frontier wars with them. But your little negotiation with the Xhosa made the idea die out. Now they plan to push into the Free States and Transvaal region. Doing so, might spark a conflict with an Elfrican tribe or too. And when such a conflict breaks out, Boers from all around South Elfrica will be mobilized."

    Letting his words sink in, Pretorius continued.

    "I know you''re not a man suited for the battlefield. You''re a scholar, after all. Your father made that very clear to me. But I cannot be as lenient as him. You are now a Commando. You are expected to lead men on the battlefield. As Commando-General, you will be following my orders. And I still remember very clearly your cowardice on display during the Xhosa ambush. I cannot accept having cowards as a Commando. I respect competence, and there are many men more suitable in your role."

    "Although you have managed your town in unorthodox ways, the recent revolt by the Boers made me think otherwise about your management. Your father pleaded with me to give you another chance. So, I am going to do so on account of my relationship with him. I want you to properly organize your town so that it is ready for war. Create corporalships, appoint corporals, and finally appoint a Veldkornet. Arm these men with weapons procured with your funds and gather artillery. I will be inspecting it in the coming weeks. Whether you can keep your position or not, depends on your performance."

    "Do I make myself clear?" Pretorius coldly said.

    "Yes."

    Lines were drawn as the disparate rural farmers'' lands were properly formalized into corporalships. One corporalship consisted of about 20 men. That was the theoretical number, but it usually hovered around there. Jan decided to forego that and organize 20 farms into a corporalship. It would not give exactly 20 men, as the men''s children might be included in the count, but it was good enough.

    At the same time, the bureaucrats conducted a census in each corporalship, counting the number of men. The number was the number of guns that needed to be procured. However, due to the previous purchase of artillery bought by Jan, he decided to give one artillery piece to each corporalship.

    During the census, they rounded up all the men and had them elect themselves a corporal. These men were not pressed into service, but they still volunteered. They were the first line of defence against an Elven raid. Better to be organized than disorganized into various small groups in an actual attack. Each of these newly appointed corporals was gathered together to hold another election to elect themselves a Veldkornet.

    The newly appointed Veldkornet met him in his office. The Dutchman was cleanly shaved and wore a simple shirt paired with jeans. His hat that obscured much of the sun while working in the fields obscured much of his face. A musket dangled behind his shoulder.

    "Now you finally organized us. Not afraid of an attack by the Zulu? A rather na?ve notion," The Veldkornet remarked in Dutch.

    "Better late than never. Let me introduce myself. I am Commando Jan Boddewijk of Port Mpande. Are you the elected Veldkornet?"

    The Veldkornet nodded.

    "Name''s Pietje Pongers. I was elected by the corporals. I helped a couple of them out at their farm from time to time, that''s why they selected me I suppose. It''s my first time being a Veldkornet, so I''m not sure what they do."

    Jan pointed to the Head of Administration, Russell Corbyn who sat nearby.

    "He''s the Veldkornet of the Urban district. Mind briefing him on what he needs to do?"

    Russell''s head perked up, seeing that two heads were looking towards him. One was annoyed, seeing how he relaxed in the seat. The other looked towards him in confusion.

    With a very broken Dutch that was hard to decipher, Russell explained, "You''ll have to police the ward to prevent any violation of the law. You have to collect taxes, and issue firearms and artillery during the conflict."

    Pietje took some time to decipher his words before comprehending them.

    "Will I get some help? Seems kinda bothersome, I want to run my farm."

    "The bureaucrats in Port Mpande can help assist you in this regard. We have collected a census of the various men under your leadership," Jan handed a paper listing the corporals and their various corporalship.

    "Wait for just a second, you said that I''ll have to collect taxes. Do we have taxes? I don''t remember there being any taxes," Pietje''s eyes narrowed.

    "Those guns are not coming for free. Because the town is new, I decided not to tax anyone. But it seems things are coming along. And taxes ought to be levied."

    Pietje sighed.

    "I hope it is not too harsh. We don''t want another incident like last month."

    "Rest assured, the bare minimum would be levied. Plus, you could report to me if you feel it is too harsh. I will change it. But my men are still figuring out a number and the method of taxing, so bear with the delay for a little while."

    "However, that is not your only duty," Russell pointed out and dumped a stack of papers onto the desk.

    The Veldkornet flipped and turned the papers and could not comprehend the scribbles.

    "Umm¡­ I can''t read."

    Jan took a deep breath.

    "The very first thing we shall do is to make sure you''ll be able to read. Along with the rest of the Corporals. I have sent a letter to my father requesting assistance. He should be sending over men who have some experience fighting together to train you all into a proper fighting force. We and the Church will be educating every one of you to know how to read and write."

    "Now, the thing we want to discuss in the Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie or BZEC."

    "Is it the one where we could somehow get cheaper seeds and sell our crops for higher prices?"

    "Correct. You will be managing this organisation. The BZEC is meant to represent farmers to the merchants. By pooling your resources and buying power together, you will be able to secure better deals with the merchants."

    Pietje shrugged.

    "I don''t get what you''re saying. But I''m good at negotiating with merchants. I can talk down the price easily."

    A familiar man stepped out of the wagon. His father warmly smiled and greeted his son.

    "Jan, I immediately dispatched men with experience fighting elves with us. I have even requested assistance from the other Veldkornets to train your men into a proper fighting force."

    Men began leaving the wagon. They seemed like ordinary farmers, but they scanned their surroundings. They kept their eyes peeled on the hill a couple of kilometres away.

    "Thank you, father," Jan could only say seeing the support the man before him gave him. The man before him was a total stranger to him. Yet the love shown by this man to him could not be understated. The fact that he even held this position after that massive screw-up showed how much his father fought for his position to be retained. He could only feel deep gratitude for the man before him.

    His father studied the town, and most importantly, the fence that subdivided elf and human sections. The Elven section was slowly developing even without Boer''s influence, and higher-storied buildings were being constructed. More traffic could be seen passing through their streets. It seems the Elven section developed on its own and seems to be prospering due to the lack of Boer-Zulu tensions. No doubt, instead of their success, the poster declaring human superiority increased in number across the fence. They still haven''t caught the one creating such posters, but it didn''t matter. The farmers couldn''t read it. Still, it was becoming an eyesore, and Jan was tempted to invest some resources to finally catch the scoundrel.

    "I have looked over the armaments you have. Most notably, you lack horses and wagons! Never mind about horses, but the wagon! The bread and butter of a Boer contingent! It transports men from one place to another. It is an absolute necessity! While I''m here, I will make sure you will be able to outfit every corporalship with a wagon. A big wagon that could also bring servants!"

    His father fell silent.

    "Now that I realized it. Most men lack servants. Well, it is not a necessity, it''s just that they will have to do the chores they do¡­"

    His father grimaced.

    "Thank god I''m not a soldier in your army."

 Chapter 32: Servants

    Bang!

    The shot reverberated through the field as a round punctured into the centre of the 100-metre target. Glancing over to his elf servant, the shooter handed the musket to him. The elf got to work, tearing open a cartridge to reload the musket.

    ¡°That¡¯s why having servants is a necessity,¡± His father explained, as he caught the musket thrown by the elf. He opened fire again.

    Bang!

    A hole appeared in the 150-metre target.

    ¡°Damn it! I should work on my shots,¡± His father grumbled and tossed the musket to the elf, who threw a freshly loaded musket at him.

    ¡°Why not let the servants open fire on the enemy as well? You could get double the firepower,¡± Jan remarked.

    His father tapped on his chin, studying the musket presented before him.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t trust an elf with my life. Plus¡­¡± His father dropped his tone, lowering his musket before whispering, ¡°I don¡¯t know whether they will open fire on me.¡±

    The elf blinked and seemed to not comprehend his father¡¯s words, but the gaze in his eyes told him otherwise. It perhaps reinforced his father¡¯s notion in his mind, but he decided to give the elf a chance.

    ¡°I¡¯m curious about their abilities, so tell your servant to take a shot at the target.¡±

    Vincent Boddewijk shrugged and barked in Dutch to the servant. Switching positions with the servant, the Veldkornet carefully watched his servant point the musket to the target.

    The elf seemed nervous. Its limbs shook with every breath, but a certain kind of confidence settled in his eyes. Cocking the musket, he opened fire.

    As smoke left the barrel, the shot pierced through the centre of the 50-metre target.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± His father remarked, before tossing the elf another musket. The elf tossed him the used musket, and he began reloading it.

    Crack!

    The shot pierced through the 100-metre target as well.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough. I suppose the old Khoikhoi servant here picked up some tricks while on our campaigns,¡± His father remarked, and the servant grinned watching their accurate shots.

    ¡°So? Don¡¯t you think you need your servants? The Khoikhoi over here isn¡¯t a slave. I hired him a long time ago in the Cape Colony. He has been with me till today. I don¡¯t think I can go on another campaign without him.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± The Khoikhoi mumbled in broken English. His father smirked.

    ¡°Where can I get them?¡±

    ¡°Any elven tribes would do just fine. Most of them rear cattle. Cattle are their currency. Elves with a lot of cattle get to have many husbands or wives. They work for you for a couple of years or months, and they go back and become a wealthy man or woman. The nearest best option would either be the Zulu or AmaZulu.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s AmaZulu?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re Zulus who have integrated themselves into Xhosa culture. The elves intermingle a fair bit, and some of them are assimilated. The AmaZulu are one of them.¡±

    Jan took some to think about it.

    ¡°There¡¯s not all. Foraging, cleaning, cooking and all the other chores will be done by these elves. Any men who have not been in a proper wagon group would not complain. But experienced men will grumble that they must do all these chores. Marching speed with being slower, morale will be lower, and the result will not be pretty. Every Boer Commando must have servants along with wagons.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating things.¡±

    His father shook his head.

    ¡°Trust me on this, Jan. Name me how many times you led wagons. Can¡¯t say? Well, it¡¯s zero. I have led many more than zero. In the two digits if I dare boast! And I¡¯ve seen many men fail during the Great Trek due to the lack of servants they bring along. Their travel speed slows to a crawl, and the elven tribes pick off their remains.¡±

    ¡°You must get some servants. Pretorius will sack you immediately if you don¡¯t procure them.¡±

    Jan looked at the other side of the fence. A woman stood up straight whilst escorted by two guards. She wore a headdress made of porcupine quills and red feathers. Beda of necklace surrounded her neck and draped around her chest. She nodded with an icy expression, acknowledging his presence. The two Boers by his side stiffened as the Zulus held onto their spears tightly. Firearms draped their backs.

    The clash of European civilization and Elfrican Elven civilization was set. As both sides, silently glared at one another. Jan even had to concede that the elves were rather stylish in their getup with the numerous colours on their outfit. Whilst he and the Boers wore plain clothes suited for trekking in the hostile Elfrican environment.

    In terms of presence, the Zulus won. Nokuthula¡¯s lips curled up, savouring her victory. The silence continued, both sides looking at each other. Whoever spoke up first lost in this contest, and the Boers were already pushed back in the style department.

    The Boers took a couple of steps back, wanting to get out of range of the Zulus spears. Nokuthula, finally satisfied with showmanship, decided to finally stroll into the town hall, where they can converse away from the prying eyes of the Boers glaring at the Zulu incursion.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°So, we speak, after all the turmoil, Commando Jan. Brave to not bring any of the men with you into this room, do you not fear the spear entering your throat?¡± Nokuthula¡¯s hands roamed over the spear behind her back.

    Steeling his face, Jan retorted, ¡°If you had any wish to harm me, you could have done so a long time ago. Still¡­¡±

    Jan looked in the window and watched the two parts of the town go on their way. The Zulu side was prospering in its way without Boer''s influence. Whilst the Boers conducted most of their trade with British merchants, procuring and selling goods to the Brits who provided the best deals.

    ¡°How¡¯s the town coming along?¡±

    Nokuthula shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Although it was rather difficult to trade with foreign merchants, a few brave souls did come in. They make some, we make some. We have also accrued some English currency through these various trades. Once the trade opens up, we could give shillings for Boer goods.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t do much about the embargo. Pretorius¡¯ orders. Plus, my people aren¡¯t too happy for now. A couple of months once things simmer down when they realized they need labourers to sow the seed and till the soil, they¡¯ll open up trade with the Zulus once more.¡±

    ¡°So, is that your purpose for this meeting? To request Zulu labour in one of your projects? What is it this time? An upgrade in the roads between Pietermaritzburg and Port Mpande? Or construction of a fort right against the Zulu border?¡±

    Jan bit his lip.

    ¡°How do you know all of these?¡±

    ¡°You hired a couple of elves to serve as your bureaucrats. Once your chief, Pretorius, came along, they resigned. With little obligation or loyalty to your cause, there was no reason for them to not divulge your plans to me. You could build as many forts as you want or point as many guns as you wish at us. But we will swarm you, and hunt every last one of you down,¡± Nokuthula smirked.

    ¡°No need to be so hostile. We got bigger fish to fry. I¡¯ll get to the point. I need Zulu labour to serve as servants for an upcoming campaign.¡±

    ¡°Who will you attack this time? Xhosa? British? Or the Transvaal and Free State Regions? Whatever you say, I don¡¯t care. I refuse. I will not allow my men to serve as your servants. I find the term ¡®servants¡¯ demeaning. No Zulu who knew what they will be referred to as constantly will ever work with you. And let''s not talk about recent events. You¡¯ll need to regain our trust if you wish to work with us once more. The Princess is magnanimous, and that is why the whole town is not burned down yet. She gives chances, and she is giving you a chance to make it up to her.¡±

    Jan stayed silent.

    ¡°Is there anything else you want to discuss? If not, we can end the discussion here.¡±

    Nokuthula stood up and left the room.

    Jan was left alone in the room, watching the window. He decided to make contact with the AmaZulu instead.

    A flashy entrance into Xhosa lands with a wagon would likely invite retaliatory fire. Jan did not wish to violate their prior agreements, so he asked around. A bureaucrat found some info from a corporal who lived by the AmaXhosa territory. They hired some AmaZulu labourers to work on their farms. They were hired to help harvest their crops and ferry them to the market.

    The corporal was the one who negotiated the deal with an AmaZulu chief. Riding on horseback with a couple of bureaucrats into Xhosa territory. They had to take stop as a herd of cattle passed in front of them. As a cow mooed in his face, the Xhosa handler shepherded the cattle away.

    They reached a small village. A large hut stood in the centre, and various other huts that were smaller surrounded it.

    ¡°You see the second largest hut? That¡¯s the chief¡¯s favourite husband¡¯s hut. Last time one of my boys made the mistake of entering it. Had to apologize many times to the Xhosa Chief before she was willing to continue with our arrangements.¡±

    The corporal pointed at the hut. And sure enough, a male elf was lounging by it. It was a rather dashing fellow with a muscular stature. A couple of cattle sat around the house. Sheep, cows, and even dogs could be seen around the village.

    Elven men and women scampered about, going about to accomplish their daily tasks for the day.

    Escorted to the biggest hut, Jan watched her favoured husband enter it as well. Inside, the chieftess watched the newcomers with a stony face. The favoured husband stood behind her, whispering into her pointy ears for quite some time before taking a seat on a nearby cushion.

    The chief pointed at a couple of cushions, and the Boer party took their seats, whilst the rest left the hut, not wanting to overcrowd it with their presence. Necklaces of reed, weed and shell shook as the chief studied the Boers.

    ¡°How can I help you all?¡± She asked in poorly accented Dutch, but no one laughed, considering the number of elves surrounding their little group.

    ¡°The Commando over here¡­¡± The Corporal took the lead in the discussion of their previous working relationship, ¡°Would like to hire some men to serve as servants in upcoming campaigns?¡±

    An eyebrow raised; the elf took a cup handed over by their favoured husband. With a sip, she settled it back down. He scampered off, intending to refill the cup for his beloved.

    ¡°It depends. Will the forces be heading into Xhosa territory? I know a couple of men led by your Chief Andries Pretorius who eye our lands. Are you one of these men?¡±

    The corporal hurriedly shook his head.

    ¡°Of course not. We have done business a couple of times. We have no interest in your lands. But we do serve under Andries Pretorius, but we are not those men.¡±

    ¡°Then where will the men be heading? I urge you to have loose lips. Because we will be trusting each other lives in such a campaign, right?¡±

    ¡°Most likely with another Elfrican tribe or two. We will be heading in the Transvaal, Free States region. We will not be conflicting with your peoples,¡± Jan explained, and the AmaZulu matriarch shifted her gaze upon him.

    ¡°Then let us discuss compensation. How will my men be compensated? Cattle? Or coin?¡±

    ¡°I can offer both. It depends on what your men want.¡±

    ¡°I can assure you most of them would pick cattle. But very well, I see no reason in stopping you hire men to join you in your frivolous campaigns. You are free to do so around here. But I will not be advertising on your behalf.¡±

    And with that, she barked words to the men around here. They approached the Boers, pointing at the door. Understanding their intentions, the Boers quickly left her abode, not wanting to start a diplomatic crisis.

    ¡°So, what now? Go to every house and knock?¡± Jan asked and turned to face his corporal.

    ¡°I know some men, let me ask them,¡± The corporal headed to a hut and knocked on the door. An elf went out the door and greeted him. Making some small talk for a couple of minutes, the corporal came over with the elf.

    ¡°This is Luxolo. I hired him to work on my farm a couple of times. He¡¯s a reliable guy.¡±

    Luxolo grinned and pointed at the cattle grazing by his hut.

    ¡°I gave him a little bonus since he worked rather hard. It took some time for the elves to understand what I want them to do, but this one, this one learnt quickly.¡±

    The Corporal whispered his intentions to the elf who nodded. The elf went to other huts making house calls. And slowly a small army of elves began building up as they invited friends or family to join them for another work assignment.

    ¡°I thought every Boer hated elves?¡± Jan remarked, and the Corporal snorted.

    ¡°There are many reasons to hate them. Loved ones dying during the trek. The constant raids on our cattle. But there are also many useful reasons to work with them. Trading for their various goods, as well as the cheap labour they provide. The elves number in the thousands, but us, we¡¯re only in the hundreds.¡±

    Luxolo spoke to the elves in his language, before pointing at the cattle grazing by his hut. The Corporal got to work organizing them into servants for wagons, negotiating with them their wages at the same time. He was assisted by Luxolo, who helped translate the Corporal¡¯s words in the best way he could.

    Very quickly, the Corporal organized them, before looking over to Jan.

    ¡°Alright, I made some agreements with the locals. We just need to come and pick them up once we¡¯re mobilized. But we¡¯re going to need those wagons to be ready.¡±

    Jan shrugged, ¡°We¡¯re still in the midst of harvesting hardwood to construct the wagon framework, as well as gathering the fabric needed to serve as the wagon cover. Horses are hard to procure.¡±

    ¡°Forget about horses. Most of us who trekked over here relied on the good old ox. It¡¯s cheap and can carry a heavier load compared to the horse. I heard your plans from the other men. You wish to customize your wagons, to also allow a mounted cannon to be placed at either the front or back.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it will serve as mobile artillery. I don¡¯t know whether horses will be able to withstand the shock caused by it. They will also have to carry a large load since that section has to be reinforced with harder wood to prevent damage to the wagon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you should use ox. Travelling speed will be lower but it is easier to care for an ox. We could even trade with the local Elfrican tribes to replace our ox. But horses? That is hard to come by from the locals.¡±

    Jan nodded. ¡°I will inform the men and tell them to procure ox instead of horses.¡±

    ¡°When will the wagons be constructed?¡±

    ¡°A couple of weeks. But the first wagon should be constructed by the end of the week. Consider it as a prototype. I will be inviting the various corporals to look at the wagon and test it out since they will be using such wagons in an actual battle.¡±

    ¡°Very well, send one of your men to look me up then. But until then, I will be heading back home.¡±

    The Corporal got onto his horse and rode off. Jan got up on his horse and followed behind him.

 Chapter 33: Wagons

    ¡°We have hundreds of varieties of wood to choose from when constructing the wagon. But only 17 are useful for construction. There is the good old hard yellowwood, which is sturdy. But there is also Boekenhout, a much softer wood that is used as a shock absorber. Yet, it could stay still even with its softness. The wheel is made of iron to traverse the hostile environment. Charcoal is added to protect the rim from rust or rot when fording a river. About 12 ¨C 16 ox is needed to pull a fully loaded wagon,¡± The wagon engineer explained to him.

    One of the men his father brought over was a savant in wagon construction. An Engineer from the Netherlands, he came over to South Elfrica to seek new opportunities. He even helped in the construction of Pretorius¡¯ wagons, culminating in their various victories against the natives which heavily outnumbered them.

    ¡°You may ask, why do we do so much for these wagons? Because these wagons aren¡¯t only for transportation, they are for war.¡±

    He paused, and the Corporals watched his next moves.

    ¡°When an Elven ambush is carried out, you must immediately surround yourself into a laager. If you don¡¯t know what that means draw a circle of wagons around yourselves. The elves won¡¯t be able to strike you with their throwing spears as you hide under them for cover. From there, you can open fire as they struggle to climb over or under the wagon to reach you. Since you know the ins and out of the wagon, you could hold them off in a melee.¡±

    The engineer walked to the wagon and pulled off the cover. The bows, or frame supporting the cover stood naked. But on the wagon bed, an artillery piece sat behind the jockey box.

    ¡°Due to your Commando¡¯s modifications to the wagon. Each wagon will be able to carry fewer people. But,¡± He pointed at the artillery piece and continued,¡± You should be able to fire that whilst on the move. I have reinforced the wood that the cannon sits on, but tests will need to be conducted. Still¡­¡±

    The engineer began unscrewing some screws and popped off the artillery piece with some effort. He carried it for a couple of seconds before setting it down.

    ¡°It can be dismounted and moved to a more favourable position to allow a 360-degree firing angle if you aim it. If you mount it, you could probably fire it directly in front. But no elven ambush would likely attack you in front. So, you would be dismounting this a lot.  I¡¯m sure you all could imagine the applications such a piece could serve you. Such as loading it pre-emptively and dismounting it to quickly fire upon an enemy.¡±

    The ox bellowed as the engineer screwed back the artillery piece.

    ¡°Well then gentlemen, you should give it a test. You will be depending on this for your lives.¡±

    A couple of men got onto the wagon and grumbled about the lack of space in the interior due to the artillery. Jan got up as well, excited to give it a test. One of the corporals got up and went to the front by the jockey box and took a seat. Holding onto the reins he urged the ox forward. A slow pace began as the ox began trotting forward.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give that artillery piece a shot,¡± One of the corporals mumbled in Elfrikaans and began grabbing a cleaning rod. He rubbed the cannon¡¯s interior. Another man brought over a bag of gunpowder and dumped it into the cannon. A small ball of metal that was a couple of inches long was retrieved, and it was rammed into the cannon with a ramrod. Lighting the fuse at the back, the wagon shook as the men covered their ears.

    A couple of metres away. Dirt was kicked up along with the plants that were rooted there. What remained was a crater. The wagon was still moving. The ox, rattled by the noise, was still trotting slowly. One could feel that it was slower than previously. But give it a bit more time, and they would surely be used to it.

    ¡°A harder wood needs to be used,¡± A corporal remarked as he knocked the base of the cannon. Jan looked at where he was pointing and found that the wood bent somewhat due to the force of the cannon.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the shoddy quality?¡± Jan hissed at the engineer as the wagon made its way back.

    The engineer brushed his words with a wave of his hand.

    ¡°You asked for a prototype. This is a prototype. It has not been field tested. So some errors like these from time to time show up. Now we know we should reinforce that region with more hardwood,¡± The engineer remarked as he tapped on the bent region of the wagon.

    ¡°Do not blame me for modifications to the usual design. The old tried and tested wagon is used because it can be used in all environments. Modifications that change the way it works, like the artillery piece mounted on it, would cause things like this to happen. So that begs the question. Do you still wish to continue with this design? Or we should remove the artillery and put it in the storage?¡±

    Jan sighed.

    ¡°Continue with the current design, please. If it is completely unfeasible, then we shall revert to the usual wagon design.¡±

    The engineer grumbled silently, about how new Commandoes always wanted to make their wagons stand out and be unique.

    ¡°I have received calls for assistance from Boers in the Transvaal and Free States region. They have trouble dealing with the Elfrican natives and require our assistance. They have sent these calls throughout South Elfrica. My contacts in Cape Colony said they have also received such messages and wish to hear my response on the matter,¡± Andries Pretorius explained.

    He summoned most of the Commandoes and their Veldkornets to Pietermaritzburg to discuss regional affairs.

    Jan was there with his two Veldkornets. Pietje, elected by the various rural Corporals and Russell, head of the Port Mpande administration.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know whether we should participate. I don¡¯t think the men would want to go without our wagons,¡± Pietje whispered into his ears.

    ¡°Pretorius, isn¡¯t it obvious? Boers should help Boers. We should help our brothers in the North,¡± A Dutchman declared in Dutch.

    ¡°Forgot about them. Although now it''s winter, the climate in Elfrica is still good. We can still farm our crops. They choose to venture inland, it''s their responsibility to take care of themselves if they piss off any Elfrican tribe,¡± Another rebutted.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°I agree. The last time we all helped was when Dingane massacred Piet Retief and his party. It doesn¡¯t seem like a serious issue this time compared to last time. We all have worked hard to trek all the way here. Shouldn¡¯t we spend some time enjoying the fruits of our labour? It hasn¡¯t even been a year after our last battle.¡±

    ¡°This will not be the first, and last call for help. They can always fall back to one of the Boer settlements nearby. But no, they chose to venture even deeper inland and brave the risks of doing so. I see no point venturing so far out to help them out. What if the Xhosa launch an attack on us? Or Even the Zulu? Won¡¯t our women and children be massacred instead? Just like how the Zulus did to Piet Retief, you think they won¡¯t do the same to us?¡±

    Everyone in the room was apathetic to the Boers¡¯ situation. They fought hard to establish themselves in this hostile environment. Every day, one man probably dropped dead from malaria or some other disease. It¡¯s not like that wasn¡¯t a cure. There was, but one had to obtain the bark of a cinchona tree from Peru. Its costs are absurd considering how many other settlers also desired cinchona. Naturally, the wealthier Europeans who settled in Elfrica were willing to pay higher prices, so the poorer settlers could only subsist by praying to God for a solution.

    Pretorius sighed, reading the room.

    ¡°I understand your concerns. And we did fight hard to obtain these lands, especially to avenge Piet Retief¡¯s death. I also know that most of you are weary from fighting. But perhaps some of you might be interested in helping them out, I won¡¯t stop you. And I can assure you, if your town is attacked by any Elfrican tribe, I will rush to defend that town.¡±

    And with that, it turned into a social gathering as the men got into their respective cliques. Commandoes got together under a Commando-General, who chatted with other Commando-Generals. Jan tapped on the shoulders of his two Veldkornets and pointed to Pretorius. Since they didn¡¯t recognize anyone here, they decided to go straight to their faction, which is Pretorius¡¯ faction. Brushing elbow to elbow with the other Commandoes serving Pretorius they made some small talk.

    The other Commandoes asked about the port affairs, especially the recent revolt by the Boers. But Jan calmly assuaged their concerns and said that business was running as usual. They heaved a sigh of relief and remarked that they had varying shipments of goods heading to that port.

    Veldkornet Russell tried his best to interact with the other Veldkornets. But since most of Pretorius¡¯ Veldkornets are Dutch, he felt rather isolated with his broken Dutch. Some tried to integrate him into their discussion, finding an Englishman trying to speak Dutch to be rather amusing. Whilst others conversed with him in their broken English, making it hard for both sides to communicate with one another.

    The one who slotted in the best was Pietje, who had a similar background. They were Dutch homesteaders who lived off subsistence farming and were elected by the farmers to represent their interests.

    They said things like how¡¯s harvest or the price of seeds. Pietje was discussing the recent Cooperative they formed, the Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie or BZEC, and how he was able to negotiate lower prices with the merchants as they got into a bidding war once they realized that if they were not chosen to do business with, they will have no business.

    He smiled and told the tales of merchants pleading with him to give them the contract as they needed to fit the family or whatnot. He laughed as he said that those merchants charged exorbitant rates for their seeds a couple of months ago and did not bat an eye when he pleaded with them to lower their prices. Jan was sure the begging part was an exaggeration, but it added to the tale, so he did not cut in.

    ¡°They got give you any bribes or whatnot under the table?¡± A fellow Veldkornet asked.

    ¡°Oh yeah, many of them did. Here¡¯s the thing, I took all of them. And gave the contract to the one who gave the best prices for their seeds. This guy had a decent reputation, and I did business with him from time to time, and he lowered his prices for the contract. The rest of the merchants gave bribes. Didn¡¯t bother to lower their prices. So, I got free money!¡±

    ¡°Woah, Pietje, you gotta calm down. What if all these farmers all setup workers'' cooperatives, then aren¡¯t I going to lose my job?¡± Jan thought to himself.

    ¡°The Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie is a decent idea. Those British merchants won¡¯t be so haughty once they realize they aren¡¯t the only game in town,¡± Pretorius remarked to Jan.

    ¡°It was your idea, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°I see, how¡¯s the militia coming along? Got your wagons yet? Your father¡¯s giving me daily updates on your progress. Seriously, this guy would only give me reports on his district monthly, but for you, daily! Wish he did the same for the districts.¡±

    ¡°If I did it daily, Pretorius. Then all the trees in South Elfrica will have to be cut down for the paper I will be sending you. And you will need to provide more money so that I can hire the men to write all these out for you. As it stands, I¡¯m writing every one of those reports,¡± Vincent Boddewijk replied.

    ¡°Tell you what, Veldkornet. I want you to organize your district into a cooperative also. From now on, you will buy all your seeds for your farmers, and you will sell your crops on their behalf. I¡¯m interested in setting up a trial for this before implementing it if the people are satisfied.¡±

    ¡°Very well, but you gotta send me more money for all the additional paperwork I have to send.¡±

    ¡°Just tax your farmers harder. Put a maize tax or something to pay for it!¡±

    ¡°Do you want me to go around my district and tell them that the reason why additional taxes are levied on you is that the almighty Andries Pretorius requested me to do so?¡±

    The men laughed.

    ¡°Still, I heard from a couple of engineers. Do you want to try mounting a cannon on one of the wagons? Why do such a thing?¡± Pretorius asked.

    ¡°Preferably, I wanted it to be able to shoot while on the move. For example, let''s say we are fleeing from an ambush. The mounted cannon can help provide a distraction to elves as dirt and plants are flung into the air. Or better yet, we do not have to assemble the cannon for storage. At the battle, we can dismount it, and bring it to where it needs to be.¡±

    ¡°So, it¡¯s for skirmishing? Flight Commandoes could do a better job. They¡¯re more manoeuvrable since they¡¯re on horseback.¡±

    ¡°No, I intend for it to be a shock troop. The wagon is a good cover against the spears, and it would mess up Elven formation.¡±

    Pretorius shook his head.

    ¡°That¡¯s too risky. Throw a spear at the right angle, and it can and will penetrate a man in the wagon. You should stick to the method of surrounding yourselves with a wagon in a laager formation. And with your artillery pieces, you should be able to hold yourselves well.¡±

    ¡°But what if they retreat?¡±

    ¡°Then let them retreat. No need to pursue or hunt every last one of them down. Sure, they might bring trouble to us sometime in the future. But with their numbers dwindled, the damage they can cause will be limited.¡±

    ¡°It''s just a theory. I¡¯m thinking about how to fully utilize my wagons. So I¡¯m testing out all sorts of formations in my head. But, when I¡¯m ambushed, I will immediately form a wagon fort instead of charging into the enemy.¡±

    Pretorius nodded, remarking, ¡°Good.¡±

    He went off to chat with the other participants, leaving him and his father.

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of going North to help those Boers out? Aren¡¯t you? Or do you just want to test these weapons against hostile elves, since the Zulus and Xhosa aren¡¯t a threat?¡± His father asked.

    ¡°Of course not! Our wagons have not even been constructed. Hell, we haven¡¯t even trained most of the men to work together. We will be massacred if we even try to help them out.¡±

    ¡°If I was younger, in my twenties, I would help those Boers out. Not out of the goodwill of course, but out of the loot I could get. The slaves or their cattle. It¡¯s ripe for the pickings. But I¡¯m not as hotblooded as I used to be,¡± His father sighed, and went off to chat with the other Veldkornets, his old friends during the various campaigns against the Zulu Kingdom.

    ¡°Wait, we¡¯re going to help them out?¡± Pietje asked, walking near Jan. The young scholarly Commando shook his head.

    ¡°Of course not. I do not care about that region. Like the other Boer said, they took on the risk to venture that far inland, they should expect this to happen.¡±

    ¡°I want to head to Zoutpansberg. And we might be passing through the area. Consider it an exercise. A little field trip to see if we could hold our own against the various Elfrican tribes. But we would do things realistically. We will negotiate with the natives first. And if push comes to shove, then we can test out our new weapons.¡±

    Pietje nodded, satisfied with his answer.

 Chapter 34: Bubble

    ¡°Construct a road to increase our connection with Pietermaritzburg. For the stone required, source them locally. I don¡¯t care if it is obtained from a Boer or a native,¡± Jan explained, signing some documents before handing them over to a bureaucrat.

    ¡°Right on it,¡± The bureaucrat remarked before heading off with the document in hand.

    If they were in Europe, it would be cold, and snow would be falling from the skies. But winter in Elfrica? Winter does not exist, it is constantly hot and sunny, except for the occasional rains that fall. It made the land a perfect place for farmers, they can farm all year round, switching crops to deal with the constantly changing market prices. Even more so, the Boers couldn¡¯t close themselves off from the natives.

    The natives outnumber them by the thousands. Thus, they cannot afford to close themselves off, and not interact with them because they are savages. Jan looked out of the window. The fence that divided both towns, was covered with graffiti and posters. He wanted to bring down the fence, but it needed to be gone in a gradual process. Even if it was down, the Boers won¡¯t acknowledge the Zulus, and segregation will commence.

    From Jan¡¯s memory of the photos, he saw of South Africa during the Apartheid era, he could feel things going that way. Seats would be divided in half, one for whites, and the other for the rest of them. Whether they are coloured, black or whatever racial classification cooked up by the administration in the capital, Pretoria. That being said, wasn¡¯t Pretoria named after Andries Pretorius? He wondered how the real Andries Pretorius would feel knowing that his name was tainted with such a legacy.

    So, things had to be done gradually. Most important of all were the trade restrictions. He was sure many other Boers were circumventing it. The restrictions were just in place to appease the rural farmers. But surely such restrictions could be loosened to allow trade to increase, and finally for the restrictions to be gone. Then he could begin integrating the Zulus.

    There were many useful things farmers needed. Wood. Wood can be easily and cheaply harvested by Zulus due to its large workforce. And that wood is needed for fires to cook food, replace tools and maintain them. Or perhaps seeds, but he would have to spend a lot of effort to convince Boers that Zulu seeds could suffice compared to the exorbitant prices sold by foreign merchants.

    Port Mpande lacked a local wood harvesting industry, so no one would complain if he loosened it to allow a cheap supply of wood. Perhaps those Boers who cut down trees ad hoc would grumble, but he doubted they would stage another revolt like last time.

    He arranged a meeting with Nokuthula, who came dressed in Western wear. It seems she was ready to discuss reconciliation, as she wore a simple shirt with jeans.

    ¡°Not going to wear your tribal wear?¡± Jan asked.

    She shrugged, ¡°It¡¯s rather bothersome to put on all the accessories. Plus, there¡¯s no need to politick anymore. My people were rather satisfied with the fierce display I put on. Nonetheless, they are extremely interested in trade.¡±

    ¡°As relayed by the bureaucrat, I will loosen the imports of a few goods so that the Boers won¡¯t complain. These are wood, ivory, animal skin, tobacco, iron and various other goods detailed in this list,¡± He slid a piece of paper across the table, and Nokuthula studied it.

    ¡°What about our crops? Don¡¯t want them?¡± She asked.

    Jan looked at her as if she was an idiot.

    ¡°You should the farmers on my side would be displeased if we let you sell your crops here. You would slash prices by half by the end of the week, and we will have another revolt on our hands. I hope you do not wish to see bloodshed.¡±

    She smirked.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. And I presume you still want the fence up?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that I want the fence up. It¡¯s my people who want the fence up. All Zulu merchants will be inspected through the gate.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind if I do the same to any Boer merchant do I?¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°How about the shipment of arms?¡±

    ¡°That will be put on hold temporarily. They are needed elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°You might think that you are being secretive about where you¡¯re using them. But my contacts told me that you¡¯re forming a militia from your Boers. And you¡¯ll need a stockpile of firearms to arm them.¡±

    ¡°Say whatever you wish.¡±

    Jan smiled.

    ¡°Is that all you called me over for? We could have corresponded via an envoy without the need for a face-to-face meeting,¡± Veldkornet Nokuthula remarked as she left the town hall. She draped herself in a hood to shield the colour of her skin and the sharpness of her ears.

    ¡°Good work, pastor. I have heard reports from my men saying that your missionaries are giving clothes to the rural farmers. You did say my name as well, right? Saying that I¡¯ve donated some.¡±

    ¡°This won¡¯t be the first time I have lied, nor the last, Dutchman.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that pastor, I let you cause some chaos in the port. The various investigations made against the slave traffickers, I could have easily kicked you out for that. Your organisation might have grumbled due to the unfairness or whatnot, but they will scold you for not following the laws.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that Commando. From all of your actions, you make it seem as if these slave traffickers were pests to be exterminated. It could be said I¡¯m doing you a favour by making their life difficult.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I hope that the expansion of the local Church goes well. I notice all the new elves that joined the church, I hope they have no relationship to the traffickers. I sure do, pastor.¡±

    Jan grinned, and the pastor smirked at the same time. New initiated elven missionaries were cleaning the room. One came over and served them two cups of water.

    ¡°You¡¯re Dutch Calvinist Commando, this is an Anglican Church, it could be said that this venue is not suitable for you. How about converting? I could give a free baptism.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°You want me to lose my job, don¡¯t you pastor? I can assure you, once I¡¯m gone, you will be immediately kicked out by my successor. Sarel Cilliers ain¡¯t too pleased with your presence. That man is temporarily living in the Port, leading the construction of the local Dutch Protestant Church. I hope you will be able to get along. Because if you can¡¯t, I will have no choice but to kick you out.¡±

    ¡°More charity is good. I¡¯ll be able to also focus on the charity of the elves. Do you know what your faith believes? Your faith believes that these elves could never be Christian, and thus you cannot be equals. Your faith is absurd. For I believe that the elves can be Christian, and we¡¯ll be equals once that is achieved.¡±

    Jan nodded sagely.

    ¡°Yes, that is the faith I believe in. So what? I am Dutch, not an Englishman. Why should I bother converting to an Anglican? I think the old me, the one who went to South Elfrican College would have immediately jumped on this opportunity, becoming ever more English. But now? No.¡±

    The Anglican pastor shook his head.

    ¡°So, what do you want to discuss? Here to cause a racket? Want to kick us out for real?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. I have good news and zero bad news. From now on, you do not have to only give charity to Boers. Since you like elves so much, you can focus your efforts on the natives that you love. The new Dutch church will serve that role. It was weird to have an Anglican church service with the Dutch, now that can be remedied.¡±

    ¡°Finally¡­¡± The pastor mumbled.

    ¡°Now then, would you mind if I implement a tax on all of your donations, it will come to help the town in a long way¡­¡±

    ¡°Get out.¡±

    Day one of the loosened trade restrictions being enacted. The gates were opened and the local police force for the Boers had a new job to ensure items not allowed to be traded were brought in from the Zulu side. All those who violated this order were fined.

    With that in place, Jan rehired the Zulu bureaucrats so they could facilitate smooth access for Zulu merchants, removing the language barrier in place.

    One of them accompanied him, explaining what her other co-workers were saying as they looked over the various Zulu merchants'' belongings.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. But maize is part of the restricted food items. It is fine to bring one or two. But you brought a whole shipment. Isn¡¯t it obvious you¡¯re trying to sell them here? Haven¡¯t they briefed you before coming here?¡± The bureaucrat asked, as the merchant blanked out and stared at her.

    She sighed.

    ¡°Then, I¡¯m very sorry, sir. You will be fined accordingly. But the shipment of maize will be brought back to the other side. Any damages with the shipment will be compensated accordingly, so you do not have to worry about any mishandling of your goods,¡± The bureaucrat barked out orders to an officer, who wrote up a ticket and slapped it on the wagon of maize.

    Calling some more officers over, they hauled that over to the Zulu border, where Zulu warriors carted it to a small hut where such goods were stored at.

    ¡°You will have to pay the fine or you will never be allowed entry. Next!¡± The Zulu bellowed as the merchant scampered along, trying to recoup his loss to pay the fine.

    ¡°it seems things are going well. I will be more worried if there is a lack of merchants coming in. I would think there would be something wrong,¡±

    ¡°Well sir, a fair number of Boers are heading into the Zulu district as well. It must be due to the acceptance of British currency on the other side of town. We have traded in shillings and pence, but there are still some holdouts who have not gotten used to the currency. So they still trade in cattle.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think it will be a problem. I feel that some of the merchants are going there to exclusively obtain more cattle, which is popular among their rural clientele. Still, got any suggestions to encourage the Zulus to use more sterlings?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± The bureaucrat¡¯s eyes shifted to the left and right, before saying,¡± I don¡¯t think I have the authority to say something like this. Perhaps you should ask Chief Nokuthula, but I believe that as long as trade increases over time. My people are more likely to use British currency more and more often. I¡¯m sure they can agree that paying someone with cattle is harder than with a couple of metal coins.¡±

    A few grumbles could be heard about the various Zulus entering the Boer side of town. But they were mostly by drunk men, disliking how the Zulus quickly outcompeted them in various industries due to the influx of Zulu goods.

    ¡°My wood. It¡¯s gone. My side hustle is all burned to dust thanks to those Zulus! We should kick them out!¡± The Boer grumbled loudly.

    ¡°Shut the fuck up! Your wood was fucking expensive! Like you charged absurd prices for it, fuck, you were asking for our liver!¡±

    ¡°Well, you could have chopped it down yourself asshole! Don¡¯t like it, don¡¯t buy it!¡±

    ¡°Well, my family and I chopped our wood instead. And from now on, we¡¯re going to buy them from the Zulus!¡±

    The Boers began yelling at one another. But the small number of dissenters never found the same support as they once did about food prices, so they were quickly squashed by the silent majority who were extremely pleased with the lowered prices of goods.

    The landowners were most pleased as they were now able to obtain a cheap source of luxury goods through the Zulu ivory and animal skins. Most prized of all was the leopard skin, which they began wearing out in the streets, showing their status amongst the poor farmers and the middle classes. The urban dwellers, seeing how the rich differentiated themselves from the rest of them with Zulu luxuries, began buying up Zulu luxuries as well. A fashion trend began, as prices of Zulu luxuries rose day after day.

    The Zulu merchants sensed an opportunity, and began procuring more luxury goods, and kept sending them to the Boer market, who immediately ate them up on arrival.

    ¡°This is a bubble waiting to pop!¡± Russell remarked, don in a sash of cheetah.

    Jan¡¯s eyes raised as he looked at Russell who bought into the trend.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand! None of the urbanites would take me seriously if I don¡¯t have this on! All the men and women pay more attention to me!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that is the case? It¡¯s not for vanity or anything like that right? You¡¯re not one of those fools who buy into a bubble right?¡±

    Russell kept silent.

    ¡°So what do we do? Do nothing? I don¡¯t think this bubble would cause wide-reaching effects. The damage would be rather limited amongst the middle classes and upper classes. I don¡¯t think much unrest would be created also. Most of them would be blaming themselves for their stupidity in buying into such a bubble in the first place.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. I have heard tales of rural farmers buying ivory and animal skins for investments since they see the price going up every day. They have even begun hoarding these various goods. If this bubble bursts, all strata of society will be affected once the price crashes. Hundreds of Boer savings will be wiped out.¡±

    ¡°Fuck! People are really stupid! How can they fall for a bubble? Every FUCKING SINGLE TIME!¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by that Jan? This is the first-ever bubble?¡±

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°Probably the first for us. But in history, many such incidents happened. Tulip fever in the Netherlands and the South Sea Bubble in England are some examples.¡±

    ¡°And just like in history, there is no way to remedy the situation. The bubble will burst eventually. All we can do is try to limit the fallout, or somehow jack up the intrinsic value of such goods?¡±

    ¡°Or¡­ we can find someone else to take the brunt of the bubble for us. Name me some countries where ivory and animal skins would be popular in?¡±

    ¡°Europe? Elfrica has some strange wildlife which would seem bizarre to most Europeans. I believe the aristocrats and capitalists might be interested in owning such goods.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, we will create an export route with some merchants and dump these goods and their inflated prices into Europe. So, when the bubble bursts in the town, the damage would be limited. Go and find a European merchant who is interested in these goods. I¡¯m sure there are plenty who see the daily rising prices with greed and one of them will be stupid enough to buy in. Have them buy most of the stocks, and limit the fallout for these merchants to swallow.¡±

    Russell nodded.

    ¡°I will discuss with the Zulu and European merchants respectively. We¡¯ll let them trade with one another directly so that Boers won¡¯t be eating too much of a loss. They will still eat a loss though, so prepare for the unrest that will follow once the bubble bursts.¡±

    As Jan predicted, the demand for Zulu ivory and animal skins suddenly dropped as the wealthy chose to pursue other goods to stand out amongst the riffraff that also procured Zulu ivory and animal skins. In the following days, the prize sharply declined. By the end of the week, the market was filled with a glut of luxuries caused by Boers dumping these goods all at once, hoping to recoup some value before the price drops even more.  Damage was limited so most of such goods were bought away by foreign merchants, so few Boers were caught in the aftermath.

    And with that, ends the first ever Zulu Luxury Bubble caused by the sudden loosening of trade restrictions.

 Chapter 35: Investigation

    ¡°If you¡¯re going heading out, then you¡¯ll have to get to know the locals. It¡¯s either the Khoikhoi or the San people,¡± His father explained.

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°The Khoikhoi live similar lifestyles to us. They have cattle, and they migrate from time to time once they exhaust the food in the region for the cattle. The San, or Bushman as we call them, aren¡¯t pastoralists like the Khoikhoi, and live hunter-gatherer lifestyles. The problem is that these two groups don¡¯t like each other. You see, when the Khoikhoi bring their cattle to graze on the land, the usual animals the San hunt start dying off as their food sources start disappearing. So, these groups get into constant conflict due to this.¡±

    ¡°How do they look like?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure. To my eyes, the Khoikhoi and the San look the same. But if you want an actual example. Oi! Jacob!¡±

    A dark elf began stumbling before them. And as his father predicted, he really could not tell the difference between him and the other elves. It was like how Asians could not tell Europeans apart, and how Europeans could not tell Asians apart, that sort of thing. It held true for the elves, who probably all saw Europeans as the same, whilst they could tell intercultural differences between one another.

    ¡°Jacob here is one of the Khoikhoi, or so he insists. I got him whilst trekking. There were numerous Khoikhoi chiefdoms in the land before we came. But they were under pressure from both sides. The amaGqunukhwebe were conquering and assimilating them from the East, whilst we came and settled in their lands from the West. Many of them were displaced, Jacob is the descendent of one of them, whom I had to pay a decent sum to obtain him as a servant.¡±

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the difference?¡±

    His father dismissed the Khoikhoi, Jacob and whispered to him.

    ¡°Honestly, there isn¡¯t any. But don¡¯t say that to their faces, they will be pretty pissed off. Practically, you don¡¯t have to worry about these things. Just think of Khoikhoi as pastoralists and San as hunter-gatherers. Wealthy San people who become wealthy enough to own cattle might make classification difficult, but just consider them by how they make a living and you will do fine.¡±

    ¡°But the most troubling of all is the way they fight. The San know the terrain well. They will ambush you with poison arrows, and I have lost many men due to their arrows. My only advice is not to mess with them and negotiate with them for safe passage. Do not try to fight them. If you give them cattle or two, I¡¯m sure they will leave you alone. The Khoikhoi aren¡¯t too dangerous. But due to intermarrying and mixing, you never know if they have inherited some of the San¡¯s techniques.¡±

    ¡°That reminds me. Wanna hear an interesting fact?¡±

    His father grinned and Jan shrugged.

    ¡°The third group will be the Bantu speakers known as the Xhosa. You¡¯ve met them previously with Pretorius, and were even ambushed by one of their parties. Xhosa in the Khoikhoi language means ¡®to destroy¡¯, and the amaXhosa, the term which the Xhosa used to refer to themselves means ¡®angry men¡¯ or ¡®the men who do damage¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t this mean the Khoikhoi were the original inhabitants since they named the Xhosa?¡±

    His father shrugged.

    ¡°Who knows.¡±

    ¡°But anyway. The Xhosa organized themselves into various chiefdoms. The chiefs that are not from the Royal family are known as Great Councillors. Only chiefs from the Royal Family can address themselves as Chiefs.¡±

    ¡°So, I wasted my time negotiating with an unimportant nobody.¡±

    ¡°These nobodies have their territories by the outskirts of the kingdom. Boers do pass through them from time to time. So, while the raids in her territory likely stopped altogether, it could not be said for the other Xhosa chiefdoms. However, I wouldn¡¯t say your efforts as wasted. In parlaying with her, you have shown that they could be brought to the negotiating table, so they¡¯re setting their sights in the Transvaal and Free States region.¡±

    Having a fruitful discussion with his father about the various affairs, he bid him goodbye.

    Captain T. C. Smith marched from the Eastern Cape with a couple of hundred men to station themselves in Port Natal. In the march through the Frontier region, they did not meet any Elfrican attacks, probably sensing a different vibe due to their discipline compared to the regular trekkers. A month later, they reached Port Natal and camped by the base of the Berea hills.

    There, the captain looked through a telescope and found the town safe. There weren¡¯t Boers marching around, carrying out their uncivilized savagery. Putting the telescope aside, he breathed a sigh of relief. But this time, he took a closer look for any elves that were to reside in the town. He double-checked to ensure that the town was occupied by elves. Seeing the elves being subservient to various English merchants, he heaved a second sigh of relief.

    Now he could carry out the mission entrusted by Governor George Thomas Napier. Splitting the men in half, he let the demoralized rest in Port Natal, letting them rest there. The rest will be marching to Pietermaritzburg, where they will greet Pretorius and his group of Boers. And while stationed there to ensure the protection of their British citizens, they would investigate the trade links between the town.

    His men grumbled about going to such a backward town, especially those that were tasked to go to Pietermaritzburg with him. Officers relayed messages that the men needed some time to rest since the travel was exhausting. He took a day¡¯s rest with the men in Port Natal.

    The next day, he decided to let the men rest for a week so that they can resupply the various goods they used up during their trek. Most important of all was the unpredictability of the Boers. They usually started numerous conflicts with elves at random times. Who¡¯s to say they won¡¯t get into a fight? Andries Pretorius might be a reasonable man, according to the Governor. Even if he was infuriated with the British presence for some time, he doubted the man who launch an attack. All it takes was a man who careless finger, and things will go to hell. It will be better to bring his full force to bare if a fight comes. But until then, he will indeed be taking a break in Port Natal, enjoying the last comforts of civilization before heading into savagery.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Back and forth cattle raids in Transvaal. The request of assistance from the town of¡­ handwriting is ineligible, I will need some time to decipher it,¡± Russell explained, holding the worn piece of paper with poor cursive handwriting.

    ¡°Here¡¯s another one,¡± Pietje remarked, who recently picked up how to read, and his eyes slowly hovered over the paper¡¯s contents.

    Enunciating each word carefully, he read it aloud, ¡°Another cattle raid. A Boer family was slaughtered. Slaughtered an entire town. Need reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°We will not intervene or bother to send assistance. These people started to raid cattle, their cattle will be raided back. They can negotiate a settlement on their terms. No doubt the elves are not happy with constant back-and-forth cattle raids.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea. An entire family might be slaughtered in this one,¡± Pietje retorted in Dutch.

    ¡°So what? Hundreds of families die in the Great Trek. And if it is too dangerous, they could always fall back to the nearest Boer settlements nearby,¡± Jan coldly explained.

    ¡°Plus, there¡¯s not much help we can send them. Any help would take months,¡± Russell agreed.

    ¡°Fuck! I¡¯m itching to slaughter some elves after reading all of this!¡± Veldkornet Pietje stormed out of the room whilst throwing the papers on the desk. Russell quickly worked to put them together.

    ¡°When did the engineer say he will get the wagons constructed?¡± Jan asked.

    ¡°It will take a couple of more months. The first batch has been delivered to the corporals nearest to the Port. They have been testing it out, reporting any faults to the wagon engineer.¡±

    ¡°Good to let the men who will be using it for months start to get used to the design.¡±

    ¡°Jan, about the trip to Zoutpansberg. Must we go there? It¡¯s rather far, around the Northeastern region of the Transvaal. Wouldn¡¯t a good test excursion be to Cape Colony? If it can survive the Great Trek, it can surely survive anything.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s the thing. We don¡¯t know if it can survive anything. Plus, the men need to get used to going on campaigns that last over months. I need to get used to that. Speaking of that, we need to appoint successors whilst we are gone on our little excursion.¡±

    Russell nodded, explaining, ¡°I have decided on my assistant as the successor. Pietje put his wife as his successor. I advised him of it, but he said that if anyone disagreed with his wife, they disagreed with him. What about you Jan?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. I do not know who I should appoint. By right, I should appoint my Co-Commando, the Zulu Princess, but there¡¯s no way the inhabitants would accept a Zulu Princess as a Commando for their district. So, I think the best option would be to leave it blank, yes, I will not appoint someone as my successor. My father would be the best choice, but even he is busy managing his district in Pietermaritzburg.¡±

    ¡°Then who will decide on the decision whilst you are gone?¡±

    Jan pointed at Russell, and at the doorway where the angry Veldkornet yelled through.

    ¡°Both of your successors will co-share decision-making. Like how the Roman Republic worked. Two consuls. They will run the town. Your successor can run the urban districts. Pietje¡¯s wife can run the rural districts. Any disagreements on important matters, well, we¡¯ll settle it through democracy?¡±

    ¡°Democracy? Are you sure the people in the town won¡¯t inadvertently destroy the town? You must remember half of them can barely read or write.¡±

    ¡°Well, they will be running things while they are gone. If they trash the place, it¡¯s their fault. I¡¯m sure your successor will be able to negotiate with Pietje¡¯s wife to prevent any such things from happening. Plus, you should have some faith in the Boers. They elected Pietje, he seemed like a decent Veldkornet.¡±

    Russell became downtrodden, looking towards the floor.

    ¡°That¡¯s the issue, though. If we start encouraging Democracy, I fear you will be deposed. After all, you were not elected. The only reason your Commando is because Pretorius supports your claim to the position. If the man wavers his support or the people¡¯s support turn against you, you will lose your position.¡±

    ¡°Coming from an Englishman, I thought you will be encouraging more democratic reforms! Or complain about Westminster, about how your Prime Minister torpedoed in the country in 45 days?¡±

    ¡°There was such a Prime Minister?¡±

    ¡°Sometime in the future,¡± Jan slyly smirked.

    ¡°I might be such a man. But I¡¯m also a man smart enough to not cause himself to lose his job. I am very comfortable in my role. I am decently paid and well clothed compared to the jobs I had to do in the various fields of farmers. And I would like things to stay that way.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think Pretorius will allow things to fall that way. Thinking from his point of view, he isn¡¯t sure of the loyalty of the newly elected Commando or Veldkornet. I doubt he would let that happen. He is fine with having me be the Commando, he knows that I rely on him for this position, and that is why I am forced to be loyal. And who can blame him, the Port is the gateway to the wider world. Without it, we¡¯ll go further inland, hiding away from the British. But with this, we can drum up support for our cause around the world.¡±

    ¡°All the more we shouldn¡¯t leave your seat vacant. Who knows what will happen while we are gone?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll give it a shot. We¡¯ll never know if it succeeds or fails if we don¡¯t try. Pretorius is there to serve as insurance if anything happens. Plus, we can learn from our mistakes and set up a proper succession in place for the future if we have to leave next time.¡±

    Captain Smith began digging up information from the locals in Port Natal. As the reports sent to the Governor, the local mayor, a wealthy English merchant, confirmed that the entry of Boer goods has dropped by a large margin.

    ¡°Yet, it¡¯s not as if they have moved further inland from Pietermaritzburg. Various traders went there are found that the population had not changed in recent months. It is only growing. Surprisingly, Port Natal has not become more bustling!¡± The mayor exclaimed.

    ¡°Why haven¡¯t you sent anyone to investigate the reason behind the reduction of trade?¡±

    ¡°It is not as if we will all go bankrupt if the Boers stop showing up. The profits brought by trade with Boers are rather minuscule. Why focus on the thousands when there are tens of thousands in the foreign markets of Egypt? Hell, millions in India, especially the spices.¡±

    Smith frowned and grumbled mentally about the mentality of merchants.

    ¡°You¡¯re not afraid that they¡¯re pulling back to launch an attack on Natal? Their leader, Andries Pretorius has always insisted that the port should be part of their little Republic. Governor George Thomas Napier might say it is highly unlikely, but their actions are unpredictable.¡±

    ¡°What is there to worry about, with men like you in the army, I¡¯m sure no Boer would dare to lay siege to the port!¡±

    With that praise, he decided to stop grilling the man. He went to the local banks and scoured the accounts of various wealthy men.

    ¡°Give me the accounts of any Boers who have created an account with a reasonable sum of wealth.

    ¡°What would you consider reasonable?¡± The bank manager asked, flipping through the books.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much a Boer makes¡­ Say, about a pound sterling. If there is a sterling within their accounts, I would like to see the information that was registered.¡±

    ¡°Give me an hour or two, we have a lot of books to skim over. Would you like to include foreign Dutch traders in your search query?¡±

    Smith took some time to think.

    ¡°I would not be surprised if there are some links between the Boers and the people from their homeland. Yes, give me information on these people as well.¡±

    ¡°Then it will double the time needed to search through the books. Give us a range from two hours to four hours and we will try our best.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you close the bank and get all your staff to search with you!¡±

    The bank manager¡¯s lips quivered.

    ¡°There are many traders who wished to exchange funds now. Would you want me to inform these men that a gentleman called Captain Smith is holding up the entire system due to his immediate demands? Do not blame me if a storm of complaints is sent to the Governor. These men are not someone to be easily trifled with.¡±

    Smith snorted.

    ¡°These men? Now is around winter, so the monsoon winds should be blowing the traders from Asia here. All those people likely Arabs or Europeans? Tell me what kind of power these men have to hold up my investigation!¡±

    This time, the bank manager glared at the ignorant captain.

    ¡°These are powerful men. Traders from the East India Company come from time to time. And you should know what kind of links the East India Company have back in Britain. I do not need to say that a letter from the company could have you easily demoted. So do not obstruct our processes.¡±

    And with that, the bank manager ignored the captain¡¯s presence.

 Chapter 36: Cattle Raid I

    It was a simple wagon travelling down the rocky road. Mountains in the horizon stood ominously on the horizon. The trees in the distance obscured their sight. The wild sheep chewed grass as the mosquitoes buzzed.

    The group decided to little further away from civilization, but not too far away. A kilometre away from the nearest homesteads, but still a possibility of falling back.

    The plan was simple. Through the trees, was estimated to be a site of a Zulu village. Smoke rising from the treetops confirmed their suspicions. It was too much to be the campfire of a single family. No, it was a communal campfire, likely to cook whatever they have hunted.

    They will sneak in there, opening a couple of shots, to spread chaos throughout the village. Whilst the Zulus try to form up into their formations, they will head to the kraal where all the cattle are kept and open the gates. The Zulus will be too distracted with the cattle to focus on them, and they will sneak off with a couple of cattle.

    Honestly, what could go wrong?

    These groups of farmers were newcomers who came after the formation of the Republic. They had heard tales of the large amounts of cattle looted by Pretorius and his party during the various battles and wanted a piece of the pie. After all, they used guns, while the Zulus used spears, so it was obvious who will win.

    The sound of vegetation being trampled stopped them in their tracks, and they fell to the ground. Clutching their rifles close by, they peeked to see a Zulu herding a couple of cattle back to their kraal. The cow lazily mooed as it munched on the grass. The elf urged it forward with a push.

    ¡°Follow him,¡± Their leader whispered in Dutch. The rest of the men nodded, and they slowly crept behind the young elf. Their barrels were all traced on him. They rather not shoot him since it alarmed the camp, but if they didn¡¯t and the boy instead yelled, the result was no different. They would rather take the chance of the camp treating the gunfire as some distant noise from one of the nearby Boer homesteads.

    The boy entered a clearing, where they suspected, stood a group of Zulu huts. A kraal was filled with cattle, and the boy opened the gates and ushered the cattle in. The cow slapped its tail against the boy¡¯s face who probably swore angrily, before closing the gates. The cow mooed.

    The boy then entered one of the huts, and the Boers raised their heads a little higher, trying to get a better view of their surroundings. In the middle, a big fire was being held, and a dead buffalo was lying on the ground. Elves were carving up the meat, preparing to cook it.

    The Boer leading the group looked at his group of men, who eyed the cattle with greed. Their enthusiastic eyes encouraged him to reach for his gun. Cocking it, he aimed it to the sky and open-fired.

    Bang!

    The sound of the fire-eating wood echoed as the Zulus took some time to register the noise. At the same time, Boers were rushing to the kraal, leaping over a couple of fences. They shoved a couple of Zulus to the ground, hitting them a little, before heading to the centre of the village where the cattle were. Bashing down the fence, they pointed the guns at the nearby Zulus who cowered in fear of their guns. Grinning, the rest of the Boers surged forward.

    The other unthreatened Zulus quickly picked up their spears and launched sporadic attacks. The Boers opened fire, cutting them down as the others herded the cattle out of the kraal. Their blood was pumping, and they could taste beef for dinner soon. However, a sudden gunshot had one of the Boers slumps a cattle.

    ¡°Which fucking idiot shot that shot!¡± The Boer leader yelled, and another shot was fired, taking down another man.

    Doing a 360 scan, he finally found the culprits. They weren¡¯t human. The elves that ran to their huts revealed their newly purchased firearms. The Boers baulked at that sight and raised their firearms back at the elves.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to slaughter you all. But you gave us no choice,¡± The Boer grumbled, and urged their cattle to hurry on out as they returned fire. The elves ducked behind the fences, and the shots dug into the wood.

    As the elves were busy reloading, those that weren¡¯t armed with firearms began lobbing throwing spears, taking down a couple of men or the cattle they were riding on. The anguish cries of the Boers echoed throughout the forest.

    They got to get out of there before another Zulu village came to their aid. But suddenly, the elves stopped chasing, and watched as they left with their cattle.

    ¡°Heh, heh,¡± The Boer laughed as they made out with cattle. Indeed, they will be eating beef for dinner!

    ¡°The Zulu Veldkornet Nokuthula is complaining about a group of Boers attacking a Zulu village in Zululand. They were last seen heading to the rural districts of the port,¡± Russell reported with a grimace.

    Jan sighed and held his head with his hands. He swore, truly, those rural farmers were the biggest troublemakers. It''s because they didn¡¯t follow any central authority like the urban dwellers, and that¡¯s why they spark incidents like these from time to time.

    ¡°Just as I was excited for our little excursion to Zoutpansberg, these fuckers had to ruin the atmosphere. I fear that instead of Boers trashing the town, it will be Zulus trashing the town this time.¡±

    The fence that divided both sections of the town was closed for the day, and no one was to be granted entry. A small mob was forming in the Zulu section, no doubt seeking to pressure their inaction into action. Jan could have easily settled it like how politicians did, apologizing or whatnot. But that would likely displease the rural farmers, who saw him as submissive to the Zulus.

    A Boer mob was also forming, likely out of fear of the Zulus tearing down the fence to tear them into pieces. They brought their guns. Men and even their children, young teenagers that were around 16 held their muskets, gulping at the Zulus.

    ¡°How should we deal with this? Should we have those farmers hanged for doing something as stupid as this?¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Russell shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s not possible. I don¡¯t even think the Zulus will be pleased. These men are associated with us, they also want retribution to fall upon us.¡±

    ¡°You suspect that they think we are the culprit?¡±

    ¡°If anything goes wrong, who would you blame? Even if we said we didn¡¯t do it, they¡¯ll say we orchestrated them to do it.¡±

    ¡°Should I press the Pretorius panic button? It feels extremely out of my hands. This can very easily turn into a shitshow,¡± Jan grumbled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send a message to Pretorius and let us see how he will respond. That man always acts immediately, so I don¡¯t think we will have to wait for a reply. If he thinks he needs to do something, he will personally come here and fix it.¡±

    Jan looked at the papers on his desk. Yet again, mass resignations from Zulu employees of the administration. Perhaps he should stop hiring Zulus in such important roles, there is no doubt incidents like these will happen time and time again. Should he let his administration collapse because the Zulus stop going to work?

    But for the time being, he went with a strategy of appeasement and decided to visit the Zulu village where the Boers launched an attack. Nokuthula accompanied him, but she brought an entire entourage of Zulu warriors, intimidating him with his measly force of two Boers. The only reason he brought so little was that Nokuthula requested him to do so.

    Likely, she needed to play a game of politics. And here, the men were surrounding the Boers glaring at them with fury. He kept a stone-cold expression, silencing the voice in his head that told him he was going to die today. The other Boers could not keep their cool and their nerves showed up by clutching onto their firearms for their dear lives.

    ¡°It looks like you came, weak Boer. For you cannot even reign in your people.¡±

    Jan said nothing to those words. The Zulu chief presented the village, the kraal. A small fence surrounded the village in a circle. That circular fence surrounded various Zulu huts. And in the centre of the huts was a circular fence presumably for cattle. He could only assume based on the various droppings seen in the grass, they were reminiscent of those left behind by the cattle of farmers in the town.

    ¡°The group of men attacked from this direction,¡± Nokuthula pointed at a couple of trampled vegetation. Leading him to it, she asked him to stand there and looked at the holes in the fence.

    ¡°From here, they fired a couple of rounds to distract us.¡±

    Pointing at the various footsteps leading to the fence, she pointed out the chip in the fence likely made from some object.

    ¡°A couple of them leapt in, and began attacking the nearby Zulus,¡± She pointed to a hut, where they tried their best to help the injured. They did their medical techniques in their hut, not wanting to show them their magical techniques. Shaka Zulu did say the Zulu way of life was superior to the European ways, perhaps their medicine was leap years ahead. Then again, human medical science was based on Galen for a time, who dissected animals like pigs and chimpanzees to determine the anatomical makeup of humans. So perhaps their ways were superior.

    ¡°Another group opened the gates and urged the cattle out. Then a firefight broke out at the same time,¡± She revealed an empty cartridge in her hand. On the other hand, were a couple of metal balls with some blood stains on them.

    ¡°Extracted from the patients¡± was all she had to say about the source of the bullets. But some were clean, lacking blood stains, while others were dirtied with dirt or mud.

    ¡°They carted off the cattle there,¡± She pointed at the flattened vegetation that was trampled by the herd of cattle.

    ¡°So, what do you plan on doing about this?¡± She threatened as the Zulu warrior tightened the circle that surrounded, making Jan and the surrounded Boers touch one another.

    ¡°I can assure you, we will find a solution to it,¡± Jan stammered, hoping that the little trip would end and he goes straight back to the town.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    With that one remark, the men backed off, giving them room. The Boers heaved a sigh of relief.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need an answer now. But I want it soon. I know where your office is. Don¡¯t blame me if we show up uninvited.¡±

    The town was chaotic and politically charged. All strata of society were discussing how to resolve this incident caused by the rural farmers.

    ¡°It¡¯s simple, toss those fuckers to the Zulu dogs. They started it, they should suffer the consequences!¡± An urbanite hollered in the inn using Dutch.

    A rural farmer who was eating in that inn stood up and glared at that man.

    ¡°Listen, fucker! The only reason this happened in the first place is because of you! All you city dwellers get to have nice salaries and eat good food. But what do I get on my shitty farm? I eat the same food every fucking day!¡±

    ¡°Well, just come here and get a job, you stupid farmer! Oh wait, you can¡¯t read or write, then who¡¯s fault is it!¡±

    ¡°Well fucker, I have a family to take care of. When do I have the time to go learn how to read and write? So, ask my children to manage the farm for me? They can¡¯t even wipe their ass!¡±

    The men were about to get into a fight, but men from their respective strata pulled them away from each other.

    ¡°Enough! Fuck! There¡¯s a Zulu horde right outside the fence and you want to fight here. Get the fuck out of here!¡± The innkeeper hollered and pointed at the two men who sulked.

    Posters were being put up by the youth in the town, who supported each party based on their various family background.

    Jan could only watch as the town tore itself into pieces and sighed.

    ¡°Well, we can all agree that business will be bad, again,¡± Hein Hindriks glared at Veldkornet Pietje.

    ¡°This wouldn¡¯t have happened if you didn¡¯t buy up all the surrounding land. Where were the farmers you displaced going to go? Start a new farm somewhere else or work in your fields. These men chose to do the former. And naturally, they would feel it¡¯s unfair and want to level the playing field!¡±

    At its core, it was an argument against inequality. The urban Boers were more educated and more skilled and thus were highly paid compared to their rural counterparts. They were homesteaders who live off subsistence farming, they weren¡¯t going to be rich.

    That was why Pietje was sympathetic to the Boers who launched the cattle raid.

    But Hein differed, as he saw those Boers as troublemakers. Trying to poke the sleeping bear.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter, someone will have to be responsible to Pretorius. If we start another war, all our heads will roll. I recommend giving in to their demands by handing over those men. Compensate them double the cattle that were stolen as blood money, and hope that things could smooth over. No one wants to start a cattle raid between one another.¡±

    ¡°Commando Jan Boddewijk, I can assure you, if you do as he says, you will lose your positions. The rural Boers will revolt. I say fuck them. I remembered you have recently procured artillery, bring them all over here and line them against the Zulu side of town. The Zulus won¡¯t escalate with them in play. Then we punish those men ourselves. This is my word as your Veldkornet and as the head of the Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie,¡± Pietje glared at Jan and threatened.

    Interlocking his hands, he stayed in deep thought. Silence fell in the room. Footsteps could be heard coming from the stairs. A man leaned against the door frame, clutching a letter. It was the Head of Administration of Port Mpande, Russell Corbyn.

    ¡°Jan, a letter from Pretorius,¡± Russell conveyed with little enthusiasm before slapping the letter on the desk.

    Jan sighed and opened it.

    Dear Jan,

    I¡¯ve received your correspondence on the recent cattle raids conducted by men affiliated with you. I was thinking about stepping in to solve the issue, but I thought otherwise of it. As a Commando, this is an issue you should be able to deal with. Call it a test of sorts, I cannot have you rely on me to resolve every little situation you encounter. If you fail this test, I will ensure that you will be safely escorted back to your father¡¯s district. A new, more capable Commando shall be installed.

    Andries Pretorius

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°Pretorius ain¡¯t coming.¡±

    Hein and Pietje continued arguing with one another, thinking that if they won the argument, he would do as they said. But he kept silent, letting them argue. Naturally, he didn¡¯t want either of them said.

    There was no way to move, and if he pretended it never happened, the Zulus were going to escalate. Cattle raids would increase throughout Zululand, and his position would be axed. He needed more time to manoeuvre.

    ¡°Pietje, we¡¯ll do as you say,¡±

    The Veldkornet grinned, and Hein groaned.

    ¡°Get me all of our artillery and line them against Zulutown, I will not allow them to escalate things. However, I need more time. Lead me to the men who conducted the cattle raid, I have some questions to ask.¡±

 Chapter 37: Cattle Raid II

    The first-ever general mobilization was called, and all men were assembled by the artillery pieces. They were holding drills in using it, loading blanks before firing. Cannons echoed throughout the town.

    Sitting in a wagon, Jan silently watched the man hold the drills. They were nervous, and the Zulu horde slowly massing on the other side didn¡¯t help to calm their nerves. He didn¡¯t think any of them wanted to fight and wanted to focus on their homesteads instead. But because of a few naughty apples, the whole tree must be axed.

    It was a corporal in a remote district by the Zulu border. The sight of cattle moving about, munching on the grass seared into his mind as the wagon stopped by the district. Getting up, the corporal recognized him and immediately sauntered over to him.

    ¡°Commando, it is pleasure to see you here!¡± The corporal began sucking up to him in Elfrikaans. If it was any other situation, he would be worried about the dagger behind his back. But it was obvious why.

    Zulus wanted blood. They couldn¡¯t settle this diplomatically. Giving cattle back is blood money, which is something they would never accept. It was obvious what will appease them, throwing these men under the curb as well as some reparations of cattle.

    ¡°Tell me the reason behind the cattle raid. I have not authorized such a raid. So please enlighten me why you conducted such an operation?¡±

    The corporal stammered, turning to see the vast cattle in his ranch to regain his confidence.

    ¡°The Zulus conducted various raids on our lands. I decided not to report it to you because we thought we could handle it ourselves. So, we decided to take back our cattle by force, teaching them a lesson at the same time!¡±

    Jan stoically looked to the corporal to see if he wanted to change his story, but the corporal had nothing to add.

    ¡°I apologize that we escalated it in such a manner. Hopefully, you would help resolve this for us.¡±

    The corporal was no doubt confident. He couldn¡¯t throw them to the curb, what kind of leader would he be if he threw them to the Zulus?

    He spent a couple of hours talking with the newly wealthy residents of the district. The kraals were full of cattle, and the children joyfully ran about, playing in the fields. He grimaced, knowing what was to become of these children if he carried out what he thought was right.

    The corporal introduced him, and the residents were all cheery, the thought of throwing them to the dogs never crossed their minds. And they treated him well, no doubt as a silent plea, to not abandon them.

    He cut his visit short, finding it uninformative, and the corporal enthusiastically bid him goodbye.

    ¡°The only decision I could think of was to send them all the Zulu. Let them choose what they wish to do with these men. It is the right decision and the only one that they will accept. The women will become widows, and the children will become fatherless, but we must do what is right,¡± Jan coldly explained.

    ¡°The only problem is that such a decision will immediately be opposed by the Boers, seeing it not more as a submissive move. Then we may have to deal with another revolt.¡±

    Jan looked towards the window. The port¡¯s bay was filled with small ships, devoid of life. What once was filled with merchants ferrying their goods from smaller ships to bigger ones became a lifeless dead zone. Every merchant already fled, leaving only the Boers to resolve the issue by themselves.

    Every merchant already intuitively knew that the town would likely be laid siege and scurried away to avoid the aftermath. The Boers were all alone, like they always were, politically.

    ¡°Pretorius has pledged his support in the event of a Zulu attack if the Zulus dare to escalate this, it will be considered the outbreak of war. The treaty made with Queen Mpande will be considered violated by the Zulu. And every Boer throughout the region will be mobilized,¡± Russell explained, holding a letter that came a couple of days later.

    ¡°The problem is¡­ the weapons we supplied to the Zulu. They aren¡¯t going to have spears and whatever magic they have. They will firearms and artillery. This ain¡¯t going to be pretty or bloodless.¡±

    ¡°I doubt they will be able to do much. They have little experience with them. We have a lifetime of experience with firearms, surely, we can outmatch them.¡±

    ¡°No, trying to hold the Port is a horrible decision. We should fall back to Pietermaritzburg and let Pretorius lead the attack to seize back the port. We are heavily outnumbered, and we should not try to fight to the death. I rather fight when we have the support of the other Boers.¡±

    ¡°Still, it¡¯s the worst-case scenario. The Port Mpande project will be over if things turn out like that. And all of our efforts will be wasted.¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°Draw up plans for an evacuation. Notify every corporal to get their family out of here. I cannot guarantee peace, but I won¡¯t allow for unnecessary casualties. The Zulus have slaughtered women and children once, they¡¯ll do it again.¡±

    It was the roadblock. The way to peace resulted in his position being lost. The way to war also will result in his position being lost. He held hopes that the Zulus were buffing. They were escalating it as a show of strength, but what was likely to happen was a retaliatory cattle raid by one of the Zulu chiefs. But that would also result in a full-blown war due to his obligations as Commando.

    He had to throw the men to the curb, but he didn¡¯t want the Boers to turn against him for doing so. He needed to somehow shift the responsibility of deciding the fate of the troublemakers to someone else, so the Boers won¡¯t turn on him. Hmm¡­ Pietje was elected, wasn¡¯t he?

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    What if, he held a referendum, and let the people of the town decide? But the close-knit Boers will not choose to have their brothers thrown to the Zulus. The rural farmers will all vote in that direction. While the minority of the town''s urban dwellers would vote the opposite. But the farmers¡­ they can¡¯t read or write, right?

    If he were to hold a referendum, he couldn¡¯t show what people voted for. He needed to hide what people voted from everyone, then he could obfuscate the results to his liking. That means he couldn¡¯t summon the men and asked them to raise their hands in a vote.

    A plan began to formulate around a polling station, one that is rigged to his desire.

    Making a small sketch on the piece of paper, the top read, ¡°I support the extradition of the Boers to the Zulu.¡±

    The bottom read, ¡°I do not support the extradition of the Boers to the Zulu¡±. Boxes were put beside these words.

    He used complicated words like ¡®extradition¡¯ to confuse the farmers that could read. With the confusing ballot paper, he needed to also spread the message to the illiterate farmers that they needed to tick the top part if they didn¡¯t want to throw their brothers to the Zulu. There was the issue that some of the urban dwellers might be confused by the word, and they might tick the top part as well.

    Tapping his finger on the table, he could always rig the results. No matter what people chose, he could just choose the result he liked the best. He then shook his head. No, the farmers will be unlikely to trust the results if they did not have a representative counting on their behalf.

    Most important of all was the polling station, he couldn¡¯t show the ballot to anyone so that they wouldn¡¯t notice his actions. A bureaucrat was to be stationed outside of the voting area, which will be enclosed so no one can see what they voted for. The Boer will likely ask which one they ought to tick for their cause, and the bureaucrat will tell them to tick the top. Mix and match from time to time so people don¡¯t get too suspicious.

    Jan snorted. A fierce supporter of Democracy in real life, and here he was intending to rig the results in his favour, how the tables turn.

    ¡°We will vote on the matter,¡± Jan conveyed his decision to the various men gathered in his office. Veldkornet Pietje was stunned by the representative of the landowners, Hein.

    ¡°I hope you will spread the word and notify your respective people to inform them of this. It will be held by the end of the week. Further information will come before the day of polling. It will be decided with a ballet.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. Most of the farmers can¡¯t read! And you telling me that you think that they can choose what they want out of a ballet?¡± Pietje complained.

    ¡°A bureaucrat will be stationed outside the station. They would have to swear an oath beforehand, and they will truthfully help the Boer inside to obtain the result they wish.¡±

    ¡°I see, on the bible?¡± Pietje replied, satisfied.

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°I think this is a good choice, since this decision affects all of us, it would be good to let us have the choice of how we want things to end,¡± Hein remarked.

    Making some small talk, the two men left soon after. But before Russell had a chance of leaving, Jan called out, ¡°Wait.¡±

    Russell stopped in his tracks.

    Smirking, Jan explained, ¡°We have many things to discuss.¡±

    Jan explained his plan to rig the referendum in his favour. They were going to exploit the farmers with a complicated ballet. The bureaucrat who was supposed to swear an oath won¡¯t even do one in the first place and will just be said to make one privately. And before the ballet box goes to the farmers for verification of the results, they would first check if the results are what they want. If it isn¡¯t, they would dump fake votes in their favour or just toss some out.

    ¡°So, this whole thing is a sham. A sham so that the people won¡¯t come after you for making the decision you already intended to make.¡±

    Jan nodded.

    Russell held his head in his hands.

    ¡°Yikes, this is¡­ rather extreme. Aren¡¯t most of our bureaucrats Dutch Protestant? They are likely extremely religious; I don¡¯t know how you plan on getting them onboard with the idea.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get them to man the polling station. Get someone that is not Dutch, preferably an Englishman to man the polling station. Perhaps you¡¯re a suitable candidate.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it is rather sacrilegious. Especially in a world where Gods are real, I fear the consequences of doing something like this.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t make an oath, why would the gods punish you? If anything, they would just let it be. They have many other things to keep track of than this small thing.¡±

    Russell only shook his head.

    Jan sighed.

    ¡°Alright then, I suppose that idea is out. I too don¡¯t want to mess with Gods since an oath is involved. Then all we have left is the ballot paper. We will have to make it so misleading that even the bureaucrat helping the Boer out will not be able to let the Boer pick what he wants.¡±

    An idea popped into his head. There is no reason to give a voter the chance to oppose. And it''s not as if the bureaucrat is lying if he told them to choose the box to abstain from in the first place.

    He redrew his sketch of the ballet ticket.

    On the top was ¡®I support the extradition of the Boers to the Zulu¡¯.

    The bottom said, ¡®I abstain¡¯.

    Two simple choices, and if the bureaucrat honestly decided to help out the Boer, all he could say was to tick the bottom box. There were many reasons one wanted to abstain, whether it is out of opposition to neutrality. For those who opposed his measures, all they could do was to turn in either a blank vote, or tick abstain. As he had mentioned earlier, the referendum was rigged from the start. He was going to get his peace whether his people wanted it or not.

    Explaining his thoughts to Russell, his lead bureaucrat admitted that it was a decent idea. But he asked about the few literate farmers.

    ¡°Let¡¯s say they know what the word ¡®abstain¡¯ means. And let¡¯s say they know the connotation for abstain. An example would be Pietje who recently learned how to read and write, what to do about them?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very simple, tell them if they agree with none of the choices, they can not choose to tick any of the boxes. Either way, a blank ballot is considered an abstention. Most of these farmers will want to have their voices heard, so they would tick a box. Either box they tick, I win either way.¡±

    Tsk. Tsk.

    Russell clicked his tongue, admiring the strategy.

    ¡°I like it. But tell me about this secret ballot thing. I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°Think of it as a parcelled-out section of a room where there are opaque panels so you can¡¯t see into that section. The ballet box will be placed there, locked so no one can tamper it. The voter will receive a pen and a ballet paper,¡± Jan showed the draft made on the piece of paper, before adding on, ¡°They will put a cross on the section they support and put the paper in the box.¡±

    ¡°That is all they are required to do. And since our dear bureaucrats are oath-bound to help the voters out, they can¡¯t tamper with the election even if they wish to do so.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m worried about. Some of these men likely don¡¯t share the same views. So, once they catch a glimpse of the ticket, they¡¯re going to blabber their mouths about how unfair the referendum is.¡±

    ¡°Have them vote last. Right after everyone has voted. Then they can see the ticket with their own eyes. And since they are oath-bound not to disrupt the referendum processes, it''s too late for them to change anything. They can complain all they want afterwards, but technically, they did vote for it.¡±

    ¡°So, where should we set up such a station?¡±

    ¡°Since everyone is mobilized and in town, we will hold one right by the town hall. I hope that the administration will be able to organize things smoothly.¡±

    ¡°We sure will.¡±

    Bibles were procured. Boers with some prior experience in carpentry were temporarily dragged away from their stations to carve nice wooden panels right by city hall. A local printing press in the town hall began churning out those ballet tickets which were kept under lock and key to prevent anyone from catching a glimpse of them.

    Orders were given to the Veldkornets, who relayed them to their subordinate corporals. They were going to hold a referendum, the gist of it was that they decided how things would end. Whether they would sell out their fellow Boers or appease the Zulus depend on what they crossed out in the ticket. They were questions raised about the ballot paper, but their concerns were assuaged once they heard the bureaucrats are oath-bound to help their every need during the referendum.

    Instructions given to the bureaucrats differed from the ticket¡¯s contents.

    The top supported the extradition.

    The bottom does not support the extradition.

    Thus, from there, the voters shouted out what they wanted, and the bureaucrats calmly explained what they needed to do. It was such a simple task, that the bureaucrats thought nothing of it. Surely it will be a simple arrangement.

    Then come voting day, and things went to hell.

 Chapter 38: Cattle Raid III

    A letter to Sarel Cilliers and that man dispatched a devout Dutch Protestant to the town. Unlike the newcomers who could see the massing Zulu army, the pastor was calm and seemed confident.

    ¡°Has Sarel told you why you had been dispatched here?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I am here to oversee the proceedings for the vote that is to be held.¡±

    ¡°It must be rather confusing since you might be more familiar with gathering everyone into a venue and asking them to raise their hands if they supported the motion. But I decided to do this so that my men will have the privacy to decide without the opinions of others affecting their choice. No one will or can trace the votes to another man. It will be entirely anonymous. That is why, I need your assistance to make the bureaucrats undergo an oath so that they can organize things, honestly.¡±

    The pastor nodded, clutching a book in his hand, he skimmed through a couple of pages before slamming it shut.

    ¡°This¡­ referendum proceedings¡­ will take place tomorrow?¡±

    Jan pointed outside the window, where a small area has been demarcated. Wooden panels were being put up. But there is no roof so that if the person inside needed assistance, they could shout out so the bureaucrat could assist the man.

    ¡°In the morning of tomorrow, we will gather all the men in this hall, and you shall make sure every one of them undergoes an oath.¡±

    Now that Jan was thinking about it, if he was thinking of fudging the results, nothing was preventing the bureaucrats from doing so as well. After all, they do not all uniformly share the same thoughts as him. Some of them were farmers as well, so they might not take too kindly of him throwing the Boers to the Zulu wolves. He could only hope his trickery was not found out.

    ¡°There,¡± The corporal pointed at a building. Light reflected from the cut-out meant to be a window. A metallic object which reflected much light could be seen shimmering.

    ¡°There,¡± The corporal pointed at the few artillery pieces arrayed in opposition to the Boer artillery pieces.

    ¡°Their artillery should only be a token few. But I must admit it is pretty smart to not play all of their cards, hiding some in the numerous buildings they constructed,¡± Jan remarked in Elfrikaans, admiring the corporal¡¯s observations.

    ¡°What we are doing is intimidation, is it not Commando? Since they¡¯re not calling our bluff, perhaps we should shift some pieces into some buildings so that when a fight breaks out, they wouldn¡¯t be able to guess where it''s coming from.¡±

    ¡°Very well, corporal. Please do so but aim the cannons at where we have spotted them. I suppose it is hard for them to realize since they cannot dispatch men over here to see from our point of view. But it is the same for us. Perhaps shift the cannons back to the second row of buildings instead of the buildings right on the Zulu border. They are more agile and will storm our positions quickly. Putting them on the second row to fire some shots off before going into melee will do us well.¡±

    The corporal nodded and barked off orders to his men manning a couple of artillery pieces. He dispatched several men to inform the other corporals of Jan¡¯s decision.

    ¡°Give us one more day, and we¡¯ll be able to give you a favourable response,¡± Russell remarked while looking over the letter in his hands.

    ¡°Too brusque? Any way to write it so it is more formal so that the Zulu ego is stroked?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think any amount of ego-stroking will assuage their anger. Just imagine if a couple of Boers were killed by the Zulu, how will we respond? If they said, here is some cattle, we¡¯re very sorry, I don¡¯t think anyone will be happy.¡±

    ¡°I could do what schoolteachers do. Write I¡¯m sorry one thousand times, Do you think that will work?¡±

    ¡°They will be surprised at first, but anyone will think you¡¯re an idiot.¡±

    Jan shrugged.

    ¡°Now about the corporal and the men involved in the cattle raid, we have his position right in the centre of our artillery formation, right? Keep a couple a close eye on them. I don¡¯t want them running away on us.¡±

    ¡°There is a recommendation by some of the men, shall we¡­ sabotage their wagons so that if they tried escaping, they wouldn¡¯t be able to do so.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead. Dispatch a couple of men saying that the wagon is due for maintenance, and unscrew a couple of parts, make sure the wheel falls off or something. But I don¡¯t want too much damage, I still want to use the wagon once this matter is settled.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡±

    ¡°Then regarding their women and children, how should we deal with them?¡±

    Jan kept silent.

    If he was feeling especially cruel, he could have sent them along with the men to be executed. The Zulus did not discriminate being the sexes, or the youth of their victims. They¡¯ll die either way. But if anyone knew that he could be sure of mass desertions. Hell, he wouldn¡¯t even know if the Englishman before him would even support him after making such a barbaric decision.

    ¡°Good thing we enacted property laws for women. Their assets should be handed over to the widows so that they manage them on their children¡¯s behalf. The children? Perhaps a couple of therapy sessions¡­ I mean prayers at the Church would do. Time heals all wounds in the end.¡±

    ¡°That brings into question. Some of these men don¡¯t have children, so their widows would become the sole proprietor.  When the woman marries another man, what happens to the property? Does it automatically go to the man as usual?¡±

    ¡°It will still be in the woman¡¯s hands. As a woman, she may not be mobilized. But I do have some plans in drafting women in any future conflicts.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane! Mobilizing women! Are you sending them out there to die in droves?¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°What? Are we still in the age of chivalry? Firearms are a great equalizer. I believe a man and a woman can both fire a firearm. Most important of all, it will double our manpower pool. We fight in the hundreds. Another couple hundred people wielding firearms would also double our force multiplier. When we must fight thousands of elves at the same time, this is very much necessary.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what Sarel Cilliers would think about it. Seems¡­ rather blasphemous. Hell, I don¡¯t even know what Pretorius might think about it.¡±

    Russell began spinning his finger in circles, perpendicular to his forehead.

    ¡°So, they¡¯ll think I¡¯m crazy?¡±

    ¡°What else.¡±

    ¡°Desperate times call for desperate measures.¡±

    Nokuthula did not reply to his letter. But it seems the Zulu horde dispersed a couple of hours later.

    ¡°On one hand, I feel relieved. But on the another, I feel an ambush is coming. When we¡¯re doing this polling thing, I fear that is when we are at our weakest,¡± Veldkornet Pietje commented.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it, group, by group. We¡¯ll start from the left side and call over those who man that artillery piece. Once they¡¯re done, we¡¯ll call the next group. Then the next, and the next,¡± Jan pointed to the first artillery piece on the left, before tracing his finger to the last one on the right.

    ¡°If they attack at that time, we¡¯ll lose an artillery piece. Then I want all men to concentrate fire on that piece, purposedly destroying it. Better to destroy it than let the Zulus use it to wreck our formations.¡±

    ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll inform the corporals, accordingly. Let us hold this¡­ referendum.¡±

    It was polling day. And Zulus were nowhere in sight. Zulutown was empty, barren, and lifeless. If a tumbleweed tumbled throughout the town, it would not be too surprising.

    ¡°I¡¯m scared. My instincts tell me something is wrong,¡± Pietje remarked.

    They were looking at the town hall, where the pastor went in a couple of bureaucrats to ensure that they conducted their oaths respectively. If they broke it, well, the religious Boers won¡¯t break it.

    ¡°Almost as if they have repositioned themselves somewhere else¡­ What if¡­¡±

    A horrible thought began sinking into his mind.

    ¡°They are horrendously agile right¡­ The likelihood of them attacking the farms a couple of kilometres away before splitting to encircle the town is not impossible, right¡­¡±

    ¡°Then we need to retreat! Immediately! Fuck! We can hold this referendum in Pietermaritzburg or somewhere else, but we absolutely cannot be cut off.¡±

    Nokuthula did not reply to him, so it was not like he had any assurances that it was the case. He cannot trust the Zulus, so he must assume the worst of them. And that they have likely done something he didn¡¯t like. If not, where did everyone go?

    ¡°Here¡¯s the plan, we¡¯ll evacuate to St Lucia. The English township. I don¡¯t think the Zulus would dare to lay siege to the English settlement. The English might complain we¡¯re dragging them into this, but at least we¡¯ll have more men to mount a defence.¡±

    ¡°Good idea, if we tried to retreat to Pietermaritzburg, they might have already had an army there ready to cut us down.¡±

    The cattle raider Boers were assigned to the centre wagon, and their wagon was fixed up for the trip. Quickly briefing the men in 15 minutes, they lugged everything valuable into a wagon and set off.

    Sitting silently in the wagon, Jan watched the rolling grasslands and held onto his musket. These were perfect terrain for a Zulu ambush. Especially on those hills, he imagined a Zulu party appearing on it and he quickly imagine what he needed to do. First of all, he had to order all the wagons to form a circle, so that they could create a wagon fort. Then, they would swivel all their artillery pieces outward, and massacre the enemy that tried to brave against them. He paused.

    ¡®But they have artillery? And I supplied them with it? Isn¡¯t such a strategy really stupid since we are clumped up? Perfect for artillery.¡¯

    For once, he regretted selling weapons to the natives. Truly, this was what Pretorius got so upset about. Boer tactics needed to change to a more mobile form of warfare. They couldn¡¯t rely on hiding in a fortress, or else they will be massacred by their constantly evolving enemies.

    Spending the time to think, many minutes pass by, and they were finally at St Lucia. They set up camp right by the outskirts of town. But to prevent the English from thinking they were laying siege, they dispatched a messenger to establish contact with the local English town council.

    The Council members stammered once they effectively saw a large gathering of Boers right by the town. Wasn¡¯t this a siege? A messenger stormed in, a Dutchman, but he knew how to speak English. But it was so horrendous, with such a horrible accent, that he almost wanted to cry for all English speakers out there.

    ¡°In summary, they were there to temporarily camp, and they had nothing to worry about.¡±

    Such a message was extremely distressing, to say the least. And every member of the council had more things to worry about.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re stupid enough to believe those Boers. It¡¯s like how they go to the natives and speak. Hello there, we are here for your farmland. We come in peace! And then they just slaughter everyone there or turn them into servants.¡±

    ¡°Either way, we can¡¯t win in a fight, if they¡¯re serious. So let them be. They don¡¯t have the balls to mess with Great Britain. One message to Governor George Thomas Napier and every one of these farmers will know what it¡¯s like to pick on someone their size.¡±

    In the Boer camp, a wagon was designated as a polling station. It just so happens to be the Boers he plans to deport after this referendum. Wagonless, they sat around waiting for their turn and each man started queuing up.

    ¡°Uhh¡­ this is a little embarrassing, but I can¡¯t read!¡± The Boer yelled in Elfrikaans through the wagon cover.

    The men stood in line a couple of metres away so they could only hear muffled yells. The nearby bureaucrat grumbled, ¡°Yes, I can hear you. And yes, you¡¯re not the only one. Do you see the two boxes on the paper?¡±

    ¡°I think I see it.¡±

    ¡°The top one means you support the extradition of the Boers who committed the cattle raid to the Zulu. The bottom one means you don¡¯t support the extradition.¡±

    ¡°Fuck! What does extradition mean?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to send the men who committed the cattle raid to the Zulus or not? Tick the top if you support it, and tick the bottom if you don¡¯t support it. No one will know what you choose.¡±

    ¡°Ok then, I will tick the bottom one.¡±

    This was how it went as Jan observed. The Boers would repeatedly yell that they didn¡¯t understand the contents of the paper. The bureaucrat could only grumble about repeating the same script from time to time. After about the tenth time, he gave up and stopped saying the word ¡®extradition¡¯ and got straight to the point.

    Seeing that he was looking at the bureaucrat, the bureaucrat angrily gestured at him for assigning him such an infuriating task. He smirked to the man¡¯s dismay.

    The pastor also stood outside with a saintly smile, hearing out the men¡¯s concerns, acting as a therapist for all their worries while they stood in line, bored with the whole proceedings.

    ¡°This is fucking boring! Why can¡¯t we get everyone together, get them to raise their hand and get this decided already!¡±

    ¡°Voetsek! You think I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re planning to do. You¡¯re planning to let those fuckers get away with it after fucking us all over with this shit!¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°They get to strut around with their nice cattle that were stolen, creating this. And now we must fight a war I don¡¯t want to fight. I want to go back home and focus on my farm!¡±

    An argument broke out but the presence of the pastor stopped many of their words in their tracks.

    ¡°I apologize for my behaviour, pastor.¡±

    ¡°No, I apologize for my behaviour, pastor.¡±

    ¡®Hmm¡­ deeply religious,¡¯ Jan thought watching the Boers become so submissive to the pastor. For sure he cannot give too much political power to Sarel Cilliers and the Dutch Protestant Church, if not, they will establish a Theocracy or some nonsense.

    And that all began with teaching Boers how to read and write. He had a plan for the upcoming excursion. Since most of the trip is sitting around in wagons and waiting for days to pass by, he planned on having Boers that were literate educate the illiterate Boers during their trip which would take many months.

    And to sate his curiosity, he was curious about what would happen if he applied such a similar programme to the servants, they would bring along with them. Educated servants¡­Will they be dangerous, or will they be benign?

    Still, they had to pick up the servants before the trip to Xhosa lands. But it will be a fun little experiment, to see how elves who lived with their tribalistic ways all their lives were now able to see the bigger picture.

    But until then, he stood in line, and it was his turn. He climbed into the wagon, the bureaucrat heaving a sigh of relief, knowing that he didn¡¯t have to go through the same routine. Picking up the paper, he crossed the box on top. Satisfied with the paper, he slid the paper into the box. Patting the box a couple of times, he made sure it was secure and left the wagon.

    Last of all, was the bureaucrats. And they were not very pleased once they realized the contents of the ballot paper compared to the instructions they were given.

 Chapter 39: Cattle Raid IV

    The Dutchman walked into the wagon. He was one of the last few bureaucrats that facilitated the polls. He grabbed the ballet paper and looked at it, expecting to see the same thing he received from the instructions.

    ¡®I support the extradition of Boers to the Zulu¡¯

    ¡®I abstain¡¯

    It was completely different. He let go of the paper and picked it up. Looking over it once again, he confirmed that the contents were completely different. Anger began stirring inside of him. He was oath-bound to be as honest as he could to the people, and he did just that. But the instructions he receive, and the ballet paper were completely different. In a way, it could be said he broke his oath.

    He tore the paper in half, and shoved it into the box, storming out of the wagon. The other men in line watched his furious expressions as he left the wagon. He decided to wait outside, wait until everyone was done. Then, they¡¯ll all gather to their Commando, and demand answers.

    ¡°Explain yourself,¡± The bureaucrat demanded in Elfrikaans.

    Their Commando only blinked, taking some time to register the contents of their words.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb, our instructions and the ballot paper were completely different! Why did you lie to us? Don¡¯t say that abstain means oppose or whatnot. Abstain means abstain. It is meaningless! This whole thing was rigged!¡±

    ¡°So what?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°I said so what? If you¡¯ll vote to escalate this, who will be responsible? Will you be ready to fight the Zulus? You think they¡¯ll close their eyes and pretend it never happened if we don¡¯t hand over those men. Even I would not be that forgiving!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem! The issue is about trust!¡±

    The room fell silent, and the bureaucrats shuffled about. They kept their fury in their hearts. One of them held the box filled with the various ballot papers.

    ¡°We swore an oath to uphold the proceedings. Without it, I was tempted to smash this box open and tell the truth to everyone,¡± The one holding the box said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your thank you. I never did it for you,¡±

    The bureaucrat dumped the box into Jan¡¯s lap.

    ¡°We will do our jobs properly. We will count the votes.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Jan repeated, not knowing what else to say to the hateful glances directed at him.

    ¡°We have discussed things before we came here. We will resign. We refuse to work under your lying administration. However, we will not speak about this to anyone due to our working relationship the past few months.¡±

    ¡°What will you be doing?¡±

    The man sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure about what the others think. But I¡¯m thinking of trekking away to Transvaal or the Free States to set up a farm.¡±

    Another chipped in.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind starting a farm here, but I do not wish to work under your administration.¡±

    ¡°Same, Natal is like my home to me.¡±

    One of the men went out to bring over a representative, Pietje who did not seem to catch the connotation of ¡®abstain¡¯ and absentmindedly thought it mean to oppose.

    ¡°So, let¡¯s count the votes,¡± The Veldkornet enthusiastically called out.

    One of the bureaucrats raised his hand, seeming to have something to speak.

    ¡°Commando Jan, you might have distrusted your men due to the various incidents that took place in the town. And I can assure you that your distrust is void. We are simple farmers. We have no wish for conflict. You would have gotten the result you wished for anyway; I am sure of that. I hope the way you do things will change. With no one to trust, it must be a very lonely existence.¡±

    Pietje looked towards the man with confusion, but the bureaucrat didn¡¯t elaborate further. Rubbing his hands together, he grabbed the box and took the key from a bureaucrat who passed it to him. Inserting the key into the hole, he turned it and unlocked it. And from there, they began counting.

    80-20 ratio. A very special ratio is the Pareto Principle. And the bureaucrat was right, 80 percent voted in support of sending the cattle raiders to the Zulu whilst the remaining chose the opposite. Dumbfounded, Jan looked towards the bureaucrats, who shook their heads in disappointment. Pietje ran out of the wagon to announce the results to everyone, leaving the men in the know together.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Jan could only sputter a single word out, wondering why this was the case. The farmers were very close to one another. Surely they won¡¯t sell out one of their kind to the Zulus? How was he wrong? And where was he wrong?

    ¡°Jan, the ones who opposed it complained the loudest. Most of us didn¡¯t mind. Most of us didn¡¯t want to fight. We trekked through the hell known as Elfrica and wanted to spend some time relaxing on our farms. We didn¡¯t want to go through that hell, involuntarily. Those men deserve it, and they should not drag us to hell with them.¡±

    ¡°People who can¡¯t listen to orders. People who can¡¯t keep their base instincts in check do not have my sympathy. Do I want to trek together with such a person? Do I want to fight side by side with such a person? Do I want to have my life depend on such a person? No. These men will not have my sympathy.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    ¡°We¡¯re not stupid. We were once simple farmers; we know what needs to be done. Why treat us as if we are idiots? We are not warmongers. We do not wish for blood. We only want to farm in peace.¡±

    The men began leaving one by one, leaving him all alone in the wagon. He took quite some time to think, before the bureaucrats came back, shoving an ex-corporal to the ground. His hands and legs were bound.

    ¡°Let me go! Fuck! How dare you betray one of your fellow Boers!¡±

    The bureaucrat slapped him in the first and had him kiss the wooden floor of the wagon.

    ¡°You want to fight so much? Go and fight the Zulus then! We strip you and your men bare and throw you all to them. Let¡¯s see how long before one of those elves hunts you down. Don¡¯t drag us into it, asshole!¡±

    The ex-corporal stopped resisting, realizing that the men around him didn¡¯t support him.

    ¡°Fuck! I don¡¯t even know the results of the vote. At least tell me before you drag me off!¡±

    Jan took a couple of steps forward, letting the man keep his eyes on him. Squatting down, he caressed the man a couple of times on the cheek.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the results. 80% voted to have you sent to the Zulus. 20% voted to not do so. That is to say, most men agree with this verdict. Any last words before the elves eat you alive?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you! You never cared about us farmers! You treated us like shit! All you care about is your stupid little town and pretended we never existed! You see us as troublemakers! How come all those townies make so much money and I make so little? It¡¯s all your fault!¡±

    Slapping the man on the left, he followed up with another slap on the right.

    ¡°So what? Does that give you the right to go and commit cattle raids? Do you know what you have just done? You violated the treaty Pretorius made with Mpande! Now, who¡¯s going to be responsible for it? Huh! Answer me! It won¡¯t be you, asshole! It is me because I am your Commando!¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t recognize a little shit like you as a Commando! You didn¡¯t go on the Great Trek like the rest of us! Your father brought you here like a little Princess! So how it¡¯s like Princess?¡±

    Enraged, Jan slapped the man on the left.

    Crack!

    ¡°Can talk so much shit now! Wow, and you were so quiet until now! Why become so arrogant? Now that you realize you¡¯re about to die then start to talk! Should have done it much earlier!¡±

    The man began snickering.

    ¡°I wonder why anyone follows you! A fucking traitor to your people! You are Dutch, yet you dance around like an Englishman. You bring in foreigners, then enrich them. The German rats, the Belgian shopkeep. What have you done for us? All you do is enrich foreigners. Even bring in a fucking Anglican Church, I don¡¯t know how the fuck you¡¯re a Commando?¡±

    Crack!

    ¡°Many of those that live in the place I play town are Boers. Hell, most of them are. To earn good wages, you need to be skilled. Tell me what else are you good at other than stealing things from other people? Can¡¯t read. Can¡¯t write. And you wonder why I invited all those foreigners. They bring schools! Schools to teach you to read or write! But you didn¡¯t give a fuck! And grumble why can¡¯t I make as much as them.¡±

    The man snarled.

    ¡°I have a family to feed asshole! I¡¯m not a princess like you!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re alone. You have a wife, right? Ask her to manage your farm for you and go learn!¡±

    ¡°Only an asshole of a man would do something like that!¡±

    ¡°You could pamper the shit out of her once you make the big bucks in the town. Fuck!¡±

    One of the bureaucrats brought over a cloth to gag the man¡¯s mouth. The man struggled amidst his restraints, but the men held him down.

    ¡°The other men following him gave up without a fight. So what now?¡± Pietje asked, pretending the prior conversation never happened.

    Jan sighed. That man was likely not wrong, and that was how most of the farmers likely saw him. They only kept those words in their hearts. And only when the ex-corporal was in his death throes then he revealed all the anger the local populace had towards his governance.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m very sorry about the way I run things. I¡¯m sorry that I neglected all of you. He¡¯s not wrong. I treated you all like dirt, never pretending you all existed. I never went on walkabouts to see how you all fared. The only times I went to you is when you had something to do for me. But I never went to you for your sake. I admitted I have failed as a Commando in this regard.¡±

    The wagon¡¯s interior fell silent, as everyone¡¯s eyes looked towards him. The corporal still struggled, but the men continue holding him down. No one had something to add to his words.

    ¡°I won¡¯t ask you for your forgiveness. I¡¯ll solve it by action. I¡¯ll import machinery from Europe and make farming easier for you all. And when we go for our excursion to Transvaal, we will be sure to pick up lots of cattle to ensure prosperity for all of us.¡±

    No one had much to say. They took some time to process his words and silently nodded. No impassioned speeches were made, nor did men fall to their knees thanking him. No, that wasn¡¯t how it works. He failed the Boers, and he needed to make it up to them. So, everyone carried on with their duties, hopeful that he would make do with his words.

    The question remained of the men¡¯s fate. All the men subordinate to the corporal said that it was the corporal¡¯s idea. Using his authority, he had the men join him in the cattle raid.

    He didn¡¯t want to send over every man. Doing so would depopulate the district, and he needed every man for the excursion. Manpower was limited in these parts, for they made the dangerous Great Trek. If it was possible, he only wanted to send over the Corporal. But the Zulu would also want compensation, so there came the problem and recompensating them with cattle. But with whose cattle?

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s right to send all of them. Just send the corporal,¡± Pietje commented.

    ¡°Then where will we get the cattle? The more men we send, the fewer cattle we must pay,¡± Russell remarked.

    ¡°Do you see human lives as equivalent to cattle? What is wrong with you?¡± Pietje grunted.

    ¡°I¡¯m saying the facts. Would the people be willing to donate their cattle to assuage the Zulu anger? Or what? Raid another Elfrican tribe for their cattle? Can we afford to embroil ourselves in such a conflict? If we send them all, they ought to be pleased.¡±

    Jan stepped in.

    ¡°Let me ask you Pietje. Do you think people would accept having a tax on their cattle to compensate the Zulus? It is unlikely they would be satisfied if we returned all the stolen cattle. We need more to show our good intentions.¡±

    ¡°I think the men would be ok with having some cattle donated from the kraal. Most of them understand it, especially since we were that close to death. The question remains, how much?¡± Pietje remarked, remembering them fleeing the town for fear of a Zulu encirclement.

    ¡°Tell you what. Strip all the cattle from the offending corporal¡¯s district. You can¡¯t have me believe that the district lacked cattle before they made that raid. They¡¯ll compensate the Zulus. We shouldn¡¯t have others be responsible for their tomfoolery.¡±

    ¡°The district will be destitute for years to come if we do such a thing. Should the children and women be punished due to the men¡¯s misdeeds?¡± Russell asked.

    ¡°That is a matter we will deal with in the future. The world is unequal after all.¡±

    ¡°I hope you find this arrangement, suitable.¡±

    Jan finished the deal he discussed with the various corporals and Veldkornets and explained its contents to Nokuthula.

    They were dressed in their cultures'' wear, and warriors from both sides stood behind each of their respective leaders.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll hand over the one responsible. What about the men with him? They have some part to play as well. Hand them over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that is not possible. These men were pressed into service by the corporal. They were like¡­ his servants, and they would be punished if they didn¡¯t do as he told them. Thus, they are innocent,¡± Jan lied.

    Nokuthula frowned.

    ¡°Ok. But about the cattle?¡±

    ¡°We will strip the district that they are from for all its cattle. It should return about double of the stolen cattle.¡±

    Nokuthula nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯m still not satisfied. My people¡¯s anger will not be assuaged until every man involved is handed over. If the men are too afraid to come, then send over their women and children,¡± She showed a nasty grin.

    Jan firmed himself.

    ¡°I will not allow innocents to be punished. That is unjust. I will not budge on this. I believe I have done my best to negotiate this outcome. Any more and I¡¯m afraid we will not be able to find a settlement. If you wish for more cattle, you could have asked.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to do this, then give me triple of what was stolen. The families need to be recompensated for why the deaths of their sons and the loss of their cattle. I will ensure that they will live like royalty for all the harm you Boers cause.¡±

    Jan showed a despondent look. After some time, a pathetic expression appeared on his face and he sighed.

    ¡°Very well, I do not have a choice.¡±

    ¡®And that¡¯s why I lied. The cattle in the district are about quadrupled from what was stolen. Non-cattle owners won¡¯t steal cattle that well.¡¯

    A couple of days before.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, how did they have so many cattle?¡± Jan asked Pietje after the man his corporals did a census of all the cattle in there.

    ¡°The district is old. And many of these men profited off the Zulu-Boer conflict during the initial establishment of the Natalia Republic. They conducted numerous raids on Zululand¡¯s villages, pilfering all of their cattle.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense. It would be a shame to return all of these to the Zulu. I didn¡¯t want to turn this district destitute after all. The women and children don¡¯t deserve to bear the burden of their fathers.¡±

 Chapter 40: Farming Machines

    Before the Dutch ever stepped foot on South Elfrica, there was the Portuguese who circumnavigated the Cape of Good Hope. The Ottomans were the centre of trade between Asia and Europe. All the wonderous spices had to pass through them. Naturally for their role in the transaction, the Ottomans slapped a tariff on these exotic goods.

    The Portuguese, not wanting to rely on the Ottomans for these Asian goods, wanted to find a direct route from sea to Asia.

    A Portuguese captain, Bartolomeu Dias of three caravels was forced to make landfall in the Cape Colony after a storm forced them southwards from the Namibian coast. The man did not know it at that time, but he had just rounded the southernmost tip of Elfrica. They were the first ships of Europe.

    Sparkling white sand on the beaches kept the man¡¯s interest as he looked upon the mountain ranges. Most interesting of all to Bartolomeu was cattle grazing nearby. There were humanoids there, with pointy ears. Telling the men to lower a boat, he decided to make landfall.

    The elves naturally were astounded by the fairer skin aliens making onto shore. They watched dumbfounded as the boat slowly crossed the waters to reach the land. Stepping out the boat, he did a little wave with his hand while watching their way of life. Their oxen were fat, plump, full of meat. Reed saddles were attached to them.

    They stood there, watching the Europeans¡¯ every action. Seeing a nearby spring, Bartolomeu and his men decided to refill their casks with fresh water. In the meantime, he decided to open contact.

    ¡°Hello there,¡± Bartolomeu spoke in native Portuguese.

    Yet for some reason, they started lobbing rocks and various other knickknacks on them. They started scampering away for cover. A little furious by the reaction of the natives when he had been so kind, he reached for his crossbow and opened fire.

    An elf was shot down as the bolt latched itself onto its skin. Alarmed, the other elves began fleeing with the injured in tow. Grumbling about the stupid natives, he and his men continued refilling their casks with fresh water.

    This was the first contact between the natives of East Elfrica and Europeans. And was a sign of the bloodshed that would follow them all, centuries to come. An endless cycle, that will never end.

    Back in Port Mpande, it took some time for the residents to move back. Empty establishments were now bustling. Mines were full of workers, even children helped pull out the black gold from underneath the dirt. The port was bustling. It was small, compared to Port Natal, but they didn¡¯t need a large trading port.

    Port Natal was for the British, an international trading hub. For the Boers, they didn¡¯t need an international trading port with a trade Empire. They just needed a small port to ship various goods. Without railways, most goods were transported by wagons. And how much could Boers ship out, due to their decentralized nature? Of course, Port Natal had to be seized in the future, but Port Mpande served their needs fine.

    ¡°You know, I¡¯m curious, where did all of you Zulus went?¡±

    Jan asked. Relationships between the two groups were not well. Perceived betrayals from both parties made the communication awkward, and he dreaded communication. There were so many times they were at each other throats, he wondered how they could still sit here and talk as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°What else? We feared that the letter was a ruse. And that the Boers were planning an attack on the day itself, so we fled. We rather fight you once you¡¯re deep in our territory.¡±

    Because of this, misunderstanding was abounded. And that any olive branches were seen as potential threats. It cannot be helped, since so many wrongs were conducted.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    Jan simply commented, not wanting to divulge his side of the story.

    ¡°Now then, would you mind opening the Zulu borders for land surveying? I know some men that are good at surveying land, and they are sure that the Zulu borders are full of rich minerals. Iron, coal, copper are some examples.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not! How do I know that these men aren¡¯t agents to survey our lands so that conquests are easier for your men in the future?¡±

    ¡°These men are not locals. Foreigners. German rats. They don¡¯t even look like us. They look like rats.¡±

    ¡°Foreigners? They do not help your case. After all the incidents between both of our peoples, how can I trust you? How can you even trust me if I was to do the same?¡±

    ¡°I can trust you. The Zulus did once own the land. If you said that you came here to survey the land, I can understand,¡± Jan sarcastically remarked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s us not discuss this matter any further. I do not see any further progress in this.¡±

    ¡°Very well, let¡¯s discuss other things. You Zulus live on this land for a very long time, correct? So, you should understand how to best grow crops? And how to rotate them as well. Would you mind sharing your knowledge with us Boers?¡±

    Chuckling, Nokuthula replied, ¡°Why? Don¡¯t you Boers know everything there is about the land by now?¡±

    ¡°We have only been here for about a year or two, especially for those of us who came with Pretorius. It is best to hear from the original owners of the land.¡±

    ¡°Then you should understand how we do business. Our currency is cattle. How many cattle are you willing to offer for us to teach you our knowledge?¡±

    ¡°That depends. There is little to verify the veracity of the knowledge you provide. How do I know that harvest won¡¯t become exceptionally bad if we follow your advice?¡±

    ¡°That depends. Are you an idiot? Will you really ask all your farmers to transition to our ways once we tell you our knowledge? A wise one would only limit it to a farm or two, or perhaps a district to test things out. And from the rumours I heard, there is recently a district full of troublemakers, that maybe you should overstep your boundaries on.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Jan grinned.

    ¡°Indeed. I know a certain district with some cattle that can compensate you for your time to impart the best ways to farm in these lands. These people won¡¯t complain, I will make sure of it.¡±

    At the port, a Belgian was asking the dockworkers to be careful with the large contraption. It was the size of a small hut, and may men had to help lift it. Attaching it to a simple pulley, they removed it from the small ship, and carefully placed it in the harbour.

    ¡°Whew,¡± The Belgian remarked and checked the device. It was large, and surely expensive. Jan became a little nervous once he saw it. He thought if the budget could even afford such a large machine.

    ¡°You asked if Britain got any machines to improve productivity of farms. Well then, I got some good old machinery for you. This is a threshing machine. I notice the locals grow a lot of grain. Sorghum, maize. They are perfect for this machine. Now, instead of using flails to thresh the seeds out, you just throw it into the machine, and it works,¡± The Belgian flamboyantly gestured.

    ¡°Why so big? I don¡¯t think a simple farmer would need such a machine.¡±

    ¡°I look at you, and you seem like a smart guy. But you still ask such a dumb question,¡± The Belgian held his head in his hands and shook his head.

    ¡°The machines are for large farms in England. Most land gets bought by landowners. These men buy a machine or two, so they don¡¯t have to hire too much men to thresh the grain. In your homeland, the Netherlands, the machine has seen widespread adoption due to your agrarian nature. But in the glorious Belgium, we have no need for this, perhaps except for our brothers in Flanders.¡±

    The Belgian looked around the town and compared it with the machine.

    ¡°I tell you what, you probably only need one of this. And you probably can share it communally instead of fighting over its usage. And because you decide to do business with me instead of with the stupid English and their overpriced machines, I¡¯ll give you a discount.¡±

    ¡°This machine isn¡¯t just some cheap clone of some English machine, right? If it''s like that, I don¡¯t know how long it can last.¡±

    ¡°Of course not! I can give my guarantee, that such machines are used in Flanders as well. And if they have any complaints, I would have already gone bankrupt instead of coming all the way here.¡±

    ¡°Give me a big discount and I¡¯ll recommend you to the other Veldkornets and Commandos to buy Belgian machines as well. I¡¯ll need some time to test it out, but I can assure you that if it works well, you have many orders soon.¡±

    The Belgian fell into deep thought.

    ¡°It pains my heart. The machine is so expensive! My liver! 20% discount! That¡¯s the best I can give.¡±

    ¡°Voetsek! 20% discount! Give me at least 50% discount!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry. But if you were Belgian, then I can give you 50% off, the most I can do is 30%. It is really the best, especially for our old enemies, the Dutch.¡±

    ¡°Jou Ma se gat! What old enemies! We never got involved in your stupid affairs in Europe. You want freedom from Netherlands you can go get your freedom. Don¡¯t come and use that excuse.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. Since you have treated me so kindly, the only Boer to do so in fact, I¡¯ll give you a 40% discount. That is really the best. I can assure you. Only if you¡¯re a Belgian, then I can give you 50%.¡±

    ¡°You say one, ah,¡± Jan went to the canned food workshop and called over Siebe.

    ¡°Siebe will be buying it on my behalf, so hand over the 50% discount, Belgian.¡±

    Head of Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie, Pietje Pongers watched the large machinery, and could only say, ¡°This looks like it can accidentally kill someone. I¡¯m kinda scared.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t come talk so much nonsense! What kill someone! Unless you accidentally stick your hand in the wrong place! But it should be obvious where and where you should not put your itchy hand!¡± The Belgian ranted.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain how to use it. I¡¯ll only do it once. Don¡¯t blame me if you lose your hand or what not, ok. Now you see those two handles,¡± The Belgian pointed at both sides of the machines. Two wheels with handles attached to them were shown.

    ¡°Now I need two volunteers to grab each side. Start turning once I say stop. How about the gentlemen who were so afraid of this little cute machine, can you please step up!¡± The Belgian pointed at Pietje who gulped and took a couple of steps forward.

    ¡°And the purchaser of this machine, can you please step on the other side, thank you very much!¡±

    Jan took the other side and grasped the handle.

    ¡°I procured some sorghum, so we will use this for demonstration. Now start turning gentlemen!¡±

    The men began turning the wheels and the Belgian began feeding the machine with sorghum on one end.

    ¡°The goal is to beat the seat out. That¡¯s what the machine does, the rollers beat the sorghum seeds out, what comes is the seeds. Once it¡¯s done, then we go to the winnowing machine.¡±

    The Belgian pointed at another machine.

    ¡°Gentlemen, could you please stop enthusiastically beating the sorghum like how you beat your wives, they had enough of your treatment!¡±

    The Belgian grinned and scooped up most of the sorghum to feed them into the winnowing machine. Jan and Pietje let go of the machinery and went to the winnowing machine.

    ¡°We only need one man for this, so let us have the man who is so afraid of machinery to grasp the handle. I fed it, so can you please start turning.¡±

    Pietje took the handle and began turning it. The Belgian went into his explanation.

    ¡°Sorghum, rice, or wheat has this dry protective casing known as chaff. It is inedible, but your cattle can eat it. Most of your farmers do this by hand. But like this, only one man needs to do it and you can do a month¡¯s work in a day!¡±

    The Belgian begin feeding the machine with threshed sorghum.

    ¡°The grains you want a heavier, so they will fall in the back. The lighter chaff will fly right in front of the machine.¡±

    Just as the Belgian said it, Sorghum grains began gathering at the back of the machine, they were heavier. The lighter chaff flew right out.

    ¡°That was only a simple demonstration, gentlemen. But I¡¯m sure you can see the potential of what these machines can do for you. You farmers don¡¯t need to work so hard come harvesting season and can sit back and enjoy your harvest.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sold,¡± Pietje shared the Belgian enthusiasm.

    ¡°Pietje, I hope to procure some of these for the farmers. And I want them to be shared communally. There is no need for one man to hog up the use of these machines. I hope you will be to organize timetables so that they could wait for their turn to come up before the use of these machines.¡±

    ¡°Urghmm¡­ I don¡¯t have a clock though.¡±

    ¡°Well, why didn¡¯t you say so? I have a lot of Belgian made clocks. I can sell them all to you, for a good price.¡±

    Jan grumbled.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t the best clocks made in England? Why should we buy Belgium clocks?¡±

    ¡°You might as well buy Belgium since you buy Belgium machinery. Ours are cheapest. Used in the factory floors of Walloon. It has a real industrial use, unlike those British aristocrats who dance around with their stupid overpriced clocks.¡±

    ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll get Siebe so we can get the Belgium discount.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s with all the machinery? It¡¯s blowing a massive hole in the budget!¡± Russell complained. Due to the resignation of the bureaucrats, they had to rehire and retrain them, so the Head of Administration had to get back and do the work he normally outsourced to them.

    ¡°It¡¯s necessary. Tell me, before we go on our excursion to ¡®help¡¯ our brothers in Transvaal. Who will be left behind? Ah yes, the women and children. Without many of the men to help on the farm, I believe these machines would help them maintain productivity whilst we are gone.¡±

    ¡°That leads to my second concern. Who¡¯s going to defend the town? Are you sure these women can defend themselves?¡±

    ¡°I have dispatched a letter to Pretorius hoping he will be able to provide a token force to station in the town as a garrison. Worst come to worst, I have also prepared spare armaments for every woman from every household to fight their way out. There are also wagons for them to flee if it must be before Pretorius could dispatch a full force in the case of a Zulu attack. I doubt it would happen. The Zulus don¡¯t want to violate the treaty as well. Mpande is not some warmonger after all. The Queen is also installed by us, I doubt she wants to cause much conflict.¡±

    ¡°If. I don¡¯t think we can trust the Zulus to make do one the word. They do have a history of lying. Remember when Dingane said to Piet Retief that all he had to do was to obtain cattle from a rival tribe and she¡¯ll give them lands to settle. What happened to them? They were all massacred. Men, women, and children.¡±

    ¡°Dingane is Dingane, Mpande is Mpande. I have done all I have could in the event of an attack. That reminds me, did your successor resign?¡±

    Russell sighed.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t, luckily. He was immensely furious about the rigged election, but I talked him out of it.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°On one hand, I¡¯m inclined to believe that what we did was wrong. But I could only think of what could have happened if the referendum results were unfavourable to us, then I wonder if we would then think that what we have done was right.¡±

 Chapter 41: Zulu farming

    ¡°The bottleneck with can food production is the can. Food can be cooked easily, and quickly. But the can? With the current rate of 5 hours per metal can, we¡¯re barely putting out a can a day,¡± Siebe explained.

    ¡°What you¡¯re proposing is?¡±

    ¡°Glass. We will use glass instead. It was what the first canned food in France used as a container. Get some glassblowers from the Cape, offer them decent wages, production will skyrocket.¡±

    ¡°It sounds good. But isn¡¯t it brittle?¡±

    ¡°We could make the glass thicker to prevent it from breaking. The flimsy glass you¡¯re used to won¡¯t be created.¡±

    ¡°But there is still the chance, so what then? Especially if we are trekking into the Elfrican inland. If a sudden accident causes all our canned food to break, aren¡¯t we screwed?¡±

    ¡°I thought of a good solution, especially for you Boers. You see, we could put them in boxes, and use straw to cushion them. The very same straw could be used to feed whatever ox or horse that you bring along, ensuring there is no wastage.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ We do have that coal mine that is up and running. Then there is the sand, which we have a lot of since we¡¯re right by the sea¡­¡±

    ¡°I believe a Glassworks industry could be setup. It makes the most sense. Especially for future construction in the area. Cheap wood from all the trees nearby. Cotton grown by the local farmers. What is missing is cheap glass. Most of our current glass is imported. It is a good idea to drive construction costs to ensure cheap expansion.¡±

    Jan tapped the table for quite some time.

    ¡°I could fund a couple of cotton plantations to drive down the price. The problem is that I fear the locals who already grow them might be angered with the sudden drop in price. But for the glass, sure, why not? Get me a couple of glassblowers. I presume your Belgian friend will have something to do with it?¡±

    ¡°He does business in the Cape Colony, so he¡¯s rather familiar with the various industries there since he need to sell his machines to the locals. Yes, he will be able to sway some men experienced in glassblowing over here. You will need to provide incentives. For example, no tax for 5 -10 years to justify the decoupling from their previous supply chains in the Cape Colony.¡±

    ¡°Easy. My only requirements is that I want Boers to be trained in glassblowing, and partake in the working of the Glassworks. Other that, I have no other requests.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. And regarding the cheap cotton. Isn¡¯t a simple solution to inform the Boers beforehand of your entry in the marketplace before the next planting season?¡±

    ¡°I would also need someone to administer the farms. I have no experience with cotton. I know though, that we are going to need to import cotton gins from the Americas. Mechanical ones.¡±

    He checked the newly added Belgium clock in his office.

    ¡°Well, it seems it is time for me to do a walkabout of the various farming districts. I need to go on the ground and discuss with the various farmers about the issues they face.¡±

    Siebe nodded and bid him goodbye.

    Jan sighed.

    The clock was a blessing, and a curse. He could better organize his time and felt more productive. But in what he felt in his previously timeless world, he felt a little more rushed since he could check the time whenever he wanted to.

    There were numerous districts to pick from. Various corporals managed their districts fine, theoretically, he did not really have to intervene. Interesting things to note was that the districts with the most cattle were primarily concentrated by the Zulu border. When he asked the newly appointed bureaucrats about it, they went down and investigated it. Turns out, most of these men were like the cattle raiders. They earned many cattle fighting with Pretorius in the various battles against the Zulu and were rewarded for their efforts.

    The recent cattle raid made by one of those errant districts had him worried, but the harsh punishment of the corporal who disappeared in Zululand should keep them in line. If it failed to keep them in line, then he could only apologize to the district¡¯s widows and children who lost their husbands and fathers respectively. Then he will see if any of them will misbehave.

    Most of them grew staple crops. Wheat, sorghum, or maize to feed their families. The corrals were constructed to keep the few cattle that these farmers kept. Most men dealt with the cattle, while the women dealt with crop cultivation. Children helped in the fields or played around. It was not a kind world like in the modern world, they couldn¡¯t go to school, since they had to work in the fields. Crop failure would lead to starvation.

    Manure from the cattle were gathered and slathered on the crops, acting as the fertilizer. He took some time to shove the image out of his mind. He did not¡­ Definitely did not ¡®indirectly eat manure¡¯. He decided to personally partake in the washing of his food in the future, any brown dirt found in it shall perish! Oh, he wished for modern fertilizer, Fritz Haber, please be real and synthesize Ammonia, we need you!

    Taking in a deep breath, he regained his cool. Some men recognized him and waved. He waved back.

    The recent various incidents caused many problems for him, but due to him stepping in every one of them, he became more recognizable. He felt he had some influence amongst this folk whom he had kept very far away in the past.

    The Corporal of the district greeted him before going into an introduction of the farms around him. The various families who lived there, any recent incidents, and various other bits of daily life he had no need of knowing. He walked about with the corporal and listened.

    ¡®So, this is what being a politician is like¡­ It¡¯s kinda boring,¡¯ He thought to himself as he listened to the corporal once more repeating the story for the fifth time. Your cattle gave birth! WOW!

    He decided to cut his visit short and moved on to the next district. After the corporal finished his stories, he bid his goodbye and moved on. There were cash crops grown in some of the farms, tobacco, cassava, and good old sugarcane. They were grown in small amounts, supplementing their incomes.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    He made small talk with a couple of farmers as well as the corporal of the district and found it not too different from the previous district. He once again cut his visit short and decided to head right for the district he was here for.

    The district that was corporal less, and the corporal¡¯s widow took over her husband role as corporal. He was worried about getting shot, so he held his musket in his hands and kept his head low. It was not the only thing he worried about. It was likely the men were also pissed since he repossessed most of their cattle and sent them away to the Zulu. He changed his mind and decided to run straight back to the town. Gather the bureaucrats and bring a small force so he could ensure a small firefight didn¡¯t break out.

    ¡°You¡¯re the man who got my husband killed, ain¡¯t you?¡± A husky feminine voice called out.

    Like him, she held her musket in her hands. He immediately pointed it right at her.

    ¡°Woah, woah. Calm down, I¡¯m not looking for a fight. If I had any problems with you, I would have shot you by going straight to the town hall. I think most of us would do so too.¡±

    He lowered his musket and studied the woman.

    She wore a red bonnet, with a black dress with a flower pattern done in a white thread. A white shawl was draped around her shoulders, while a red apron covered her front. A musket was held in her hand. Her physique was no damsel in distress that was for sure. He wondered if he could even lose arm-wrestling to her.

    She smoked on a pipe, and as the pipe shook, some tobacco fell out. Removing it, she looked over him from head to toe.

    ¡°I can see what he meant by how you¡¯re no typical Commando. Tell me, how many farms you own. I can guess, zero. Men like you don¡¯t belong out here. You belong more to Cape Town.¡±

    ¡°No beef?¡±

    ¡°Zero. That fucker took a gamble and paid the price for it. I did warn him out of it, but what can I say, he never listened. I¡¯ll have to raise my son myself, that fucker. So, you¡¯re going to reappoint a new Corporal or what? I had to do his job for him too, bloody hell.¡±

    ¡°That depends. Any man volunteering to be the new corporal?¡±

    ¡°None. They''re too busy crying at home about all the cattle that were taken away,¡± She paused, before mimicking their tone, ¡°If we didn¡¯t steal that cattle we could have still kept all that cattle, Aaahh! Why did I do that? Their wives are busy beating them up for it.¡±

    ¡°Literally, or figuratively?¡±

    ¡°You decide.¡±

    ¡°Well, more cattle will be taken away from the Zulus. They should be satisfied I didn¡¯t send them all to the Zulus instead. We¡¯ll be testing out Zulu methods of farming on this land. Since these experts have farmed here for thousands of years, I believe the yields would be increased. I hope for your cooperation in this regard in the next planting season.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mind since you didn¡¯t take away all the cattle. But here is where I draw the line. This deal sounds like it will take all the cattle from this district. I refuse. You can cancel the deal or get a bullet between your eyes. Your choice.¡±

    Jan took a couple of steps back, a little intimidated by the fierceness of this woman.

    ¡°Of course not. I understand that milk is very important to the diet. I have no wish for turning this entire district destitute. It brings me no benefits after all to see you all become poorer. I need a token sum. One cattle per household. We¡¯ll test out Zulu farming methods. The returns from these will surely be greater than whatever cattle lost.¡±

    ¡°Else?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°What if it is a complete disaster?¡± She removed her pipe, before enunciating more clearly, ¡°Then what then? Who will return us the lost cattle? Or even repay us for the bad harvest?¡±

    ¡°If it turns out like that, I will be responsible. I will recompensate you for the expenses. I can procure cattle from the market for the various households. I will also procure food to ensure your families will tide the harvest.¡±

    A white cattle chewing on some grass caught his eye.

    ¡°By the way, it¡¯s that yours?¡±

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°I believe if we hand that over, the Zulus will be most satisfied.¡±

    ¡°Sure, why not. Nothing special about it, it¡¯s just white. I want to be recompensated for the cattle. Get me another cattle, else.¡±

    She pointed at the area of her face between her two eyes.

    He decided that it was much better to deal with the men than the women. At least they weren¡¯t that scary.

    He had some bureaucrats swap cattle with the female Corporal, and locked the white cattle in the local town¡¯s kraal, where all the farmers impounded their cattle during their stay in the town. This was so they wouldn¡¯t be fined if their cattle decided to let out the brown fertilizer all over the ground. It was a mad dash for every farmer who reached the town. They had to pray as they urged the cattle forward right to the kraal, before shoving them into it.

    Some unlucky farmers had cattle that couldn¡¯t hold it in and gave free fertilizer to the ground outside the corral. Naturally, the officers who saw a free fine to be given out struck their prey with a ticket slapped on their cattle.

    ¡°This cattle is impounded until you pay up at the town hall. I know your name, Ruud. You¡¯ve been fined numerous times before.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by that, everyone I know has been fined numerous times before! Why be a dickhead!¡±

    ¡°Woah, woah, it looks like I need to increase the fine. Keep it up Ruud, and I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    The farmer swore right in the officer¡¯s face, and headed straight for the town hall, ripping the ticket off his cattle¡¯s ass.

    Not all cattle were equal. And to the Zulus, certain types of cattle were more valuable than others. Cattle were their currency, but like currency, there are many denominations to it. It was just that cattle were a subjective currency. Its age, colour and breed affected the prices. And the value is determined based on the opposing¡¯s party perceived value.

    Shaka Zulu was known to prefer a white inyoni kayiphumuli breed. Inyoni Kayiphumuli is known as the bird which does not rest. Their hide was milky, and dark spots appeared around its ears and various other parts on its body. fAnyway, the Zulus have a fascination of white cows, and from his research, white cattle birthed by commoners were usually sent over to their queen as gifts. Thus, a white cow is considered a significant gift.

    He didn¡¯t need to go through the trouble of procuring one from every household. A simple white cow should suffice for the Zulus. Nokuthula wouldn¡¯t have much trouble finding a use for such a cow. It could be given as a gift to others, or it can be simply milked until it died so that it can be eaten. It really depends on what one wanted to do with it. But cattle are definitely not useless. Perhaps except for the farmers whose cattle could not help but give free fertilizer to the streets.

    And they would swear that their cattle were useless as a ticket was slapped on its ass, and the officer impounded it in the town¡¯s kraal.

    ¡°I believe this should suffice,¡± He presented the kraal to Nokuthula. The return of trade has let the presence of Zulus been normalized in the town, and most Boers didn¡¯t bat an eye. Except for the man who still put up those human supremacist posters. Like sir, we get it for the millionth time, ok, you won¡¯t get any converts by putting it up by now.

    ¡°So, the whole kraal? What a generous gift,¡± Nokuthula remarked.

    ¡°What! No! Of course not! Are you Stu-, uh-hum, I mean that white cow. I believe that it should suffice, it is incredibly valuable.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a white cow,¡± Nokuthula motionlessly remarked.

    ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s just a white cow! It¡¯s precious! Do you ever see a cow with a hide that white! It is rare! Usually, you see a cow and there¡¯s some other colour mixed in its hide! It¡¯s special!¡±

    Jan stopped, thinking that he was overselling things here.

    Nokuthula shrugged.

    ¡°I will admit that white cows are rare, but it¡¯s not something I must possess. It¡¯s just a white cow. Should I jump around in glee, hug you and thank you for giving me a cow? It¡¯s just a cow. Plus, I have plenty back at home.¡±

    Rubbing his forehead, Jan sighed.

    ¡°Could you please accept this cow in place of numerous cattle? We are not too sure whether Zulu farming methods could be applied and integrated with the Boer way of life. So, do you consider this a payment for the time spent educating the farmers of the district?"

    "Of course, I won''t say no to free cattle, but I prefer to have the whole kraal." You mind handing over the entire kraal? The Boers have wronged us. I think that all the cattle of the kraal would be enough to put an end to our troubles.

    ¡°No. Take the livestock and leave.

    ¡°Fine.¡±

 Chapter 42: Dutch Church

    ¡°Really now? Naming the church against the trekker who donated the most? I must admit it is a good idea, but you¡¯ll have to apologize to the man on my behalf. I won¡¯t have such egotistic desires tainting the church. The best I can do is a simple plaque to honour him, it should please him,¡± Sarel blasted Jan¡¯s ideas of the church.

    He held his head in his hands and sighed.

    ¡°When is the last time you went to Church? Or have you been going to Anglican ones while in the Cape? Tsk, tsk.¡±

    Jan could only helplessly shrug, and Sarel could only clench his fists in rage. But he took a deep breath and simmered down.

    ¡°Nonetheless, I wish only for a simple Church. I shall take the rest of the funds and began giving them out as charity to the locals. Could you ask your men to help in the construction?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know whether the men would be willing to work for free though, there is much work abound. Construction of the road networks to Pietermaritzburg as well improved infrastructure to the various districts needs to be worked on.¡±

    Sarel smiled widely, but Jan didn¡¯t think it was out of happiness. It was forced, and wrinkles could be seen jarring out on his forehead.

    ¡°I will overlook your previous transgressions against the faith. All I ask is for men to be provided. Surely, they aren¡¯t as faithless as you. So, what are you waiting for?¡±

    Jan nodded, and quickly organized his desk. He got up and left the room, watching Sarel looking at him leaving the room. He went to the office down next door and peeked his head in.

    A farmer was scheduling his use of the new machine procured from the Belgian. Pietje was carefully writing the farmer¡¯s name, district and date and time in a little notebook and nodded. Seeing Jan¡¯s entry, he closed the notebook, and welcomed him in, telling the farmer that it is settled. The farmer bounced out of the room with pleasure, leaving the two men in there.

    ¡°Sarel needs some men to help in the construction of the Church, any man willing to work in it?¡±

    Pietje snorted.

    ¡°What a stupid question! Any man would be willing to work on it! It is our duty as Boers to construct Churches in every town! Hell, I¡¯m going to mobilize every man, from every district to get it done!¡±

    Jan raised his hands.

    ¡°Look, I believe that is too much, call up those that are willing to work as volunteers. I don¡¯t want to disrupt those that might be busy with various affairs. Plus, I doubt mobilizing all of them would improve construction speed by a large margin.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the site? Right in town? Or right beside the English church?¡±

    ¡°Right beside of course! How could I put the Church elsewhere?¡±

    With shifty eyes, Pietje looked around for anyone else in the room.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be great. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.¡±

    Sarel stood in from behind the frame.

    ¡°Of course, gentlemen. Nothing would go wrong. I would have a little chat with the pastor from the Anglican Church or urge him to relocate out of our lands.¡±

    Willing volunteers were called out as soon as they realized what the project was for. Men descended in droves by the construction site, signing up to build the Church that they were waiting for, for a very, very long time.

    Sarel organized some of his fellow devotees to organize the crew, whilst he entered the Anglican Church. Men were divided into work groups, and they were each assigned to a different task. For instance, clearing the land, laying the foundation, putting up a framework and logistics and others. Some required more work than others.

    After what seemed like a long time, but Jan checked his Belgian pocket watch, 30 minutes, Sarel came out with a grin on his face. The English pastor also came out and the two men shook their hands with much glee. It was a sight to behold, and even the Boers were a little confused. But as soon as the pastor went back into his abode, Sarel¡¯s expression became a frown.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t want to move. Said that we wouldn¡¯t provide charity to the elves, and he¡¯ll do it in our stead. Those godless heathens think they deserve the same charity as we? What a joke,¡± Sarel grumbled, but his face reverted to the calm, wise expression he had when the Boers had something to confess.

    ¡°Gentlemen, let us get to work, hopefully we¡¯ll get this done in a day.¡±

    The unified Boer spirit was at work, for whilst they lived in a fashion of every man for themselves, their religion united them. Not only the men, but the women were also involved, and they handed out refreshments to the men resting between jobs. Sarel could only be delighted with the quick progress and went up to talk with the various men between shifts. No one could deny the charisma oozing out of him. His warm presence when meeting him for the first time allows one to let go and tell them everything problem they face.

    It was also his passion in his work. The man loved his work, and Jan could only see him wide smiles constantly on his face as he made small talk with the farmers. He changed his tone to fit within the farmers, adding swears from time to time, the veneer of professionalism vanishing once he opened his mouth.

    Informal sermons were being held, and he didn¡¯t mind interrupting them to hear the concern of the Boer who stepped up to chat with him. It was no wonder how the man was very close with Pretorius and the various men following him. He had talent, passion, and faith.

    That only made Jan wary of such a man. Get on the wrong side, and he could be quickly deposed. That man could say a word and do just that. For the brief time they spent with one another, he didn¡¯t think the man was that petty. But he could do that.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    There was also the incompatibility in faith. The Anglicans thought if they could convert the natives to Christians, they would be equal in their eyes. The Dutch Calvinists thought differently and didn¡¯t share the same view. In their eyes, no amount of converting would civilize the godless elf. Noah¡¯s curse on Canaan, Ham¡¯s son, that ¡®a servant of servants shall he be¡¯ was how they saw the elves. Their servants. These are the literal interpretations of the bible they tried to read while trekking.

    He didn¡¯t know how Sarel saw things, but he was pretty sure it was not like that. The lack of elves on his farm when he first visited was a surprise, but perhaps a good one. He needed to beat the supremacist thinking out of the Boers, and the only way to do so was Sarel. But he couldn¡¯t walk up to Sarel and ask him about his thoughts, it would kind of rude. Wait, but he could, couldn¡¯t he?

    Sarel spent some time before walking away, deciding to take a walk around town. Jan joined him. He decided to ask directly.

    ¡°Sarel, what are your thoughts on the elves? Do you think they could be our equals?¡±

    Sarel¡¯s eyebrows naturally arose from the sudden question, and his face scrunched up as his mind began wandering.

    ¡°Some men think they are godless, and meant to be our servants, like Canaan. But I do not think that is the case. Every creature is equal before God. God loves its creations equally, so why are the elves any different?¡±

    Jan didn¡¯t know how to reply to that.

    ¡°Makes sense, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°It is not something I would dare say much to the men. They don¡¯t enjoy such ideas, naturally. But I do sneak it in from time to time, in my sermons.¡±

    He stopped, and the two took some time to silently admire the Boer side of town. They walked by the ports, where small ships ferried goods in and out of the bay. They walked by the kraals and watched the cattle. They walked along the fence, still filled with the human supremacist posters. The Zulu side of town was a view to be seen. Nature, intertwined with buildings. Vines crept up on huts, not in any parasitic nature that would ruin the structural integrity but seemed to reinforce this. Flowers could be seen dotted here and there. The vividity of the various colours and the rich plant life made him feel very poor. The lush green bushes lining up their side of the fence overshadowed the posters.

    He compared the squalor of the Boer side of town with the grassy fields to the other side and felt he got the bad end of the deal. Hell, he was even tempted to move there. He felt like a very poor man.

    ¡°I must admit the other side is beautiful. Left to develop to their own devices, much beauty can be created,¡± Sarel remarked.

    ¡°Why thank you very much sir, I cultivated them myself,¡± An elf peeked over the hedge and waved at him. And of course, it was the Zulu chieftess, dressed in a simple shirt with khakis. A wide brimmed hat shielded her from the warm Elfrican sun.

    ¡°It¡¯s a nice hedge. It¡¯s not as if its alien, like the surface is completely smooth. Some parts were allowed to have natural imperfections blend in to avoid the uncanniness of most artificial hedges.¡±

    She nodded in agreement, ¡°It took some time to formulate the right combination so that it can work with Boer constructions. Seeing that it works with the fence, I believe you Boers might want some of it. Your district looks so dreary and boring. There¡¯s also free fertilizer on the ground from time to time, always must watch your step. Yet there¡¯s barely any life.¡±

    ¡°So, we can have such beauty here as well?¡±

    ¡°For a price! We¡¯re not a charity! Cattle or sterling pounds? We might need a consultation or two to get what you want just right.¡±

    Jan had a feeling that instead of private military contractors, South Elfrica will be full of private landscaping contractors in the far future. Is that a good thing?

    ¡°After the local church is done, I do not mind a couple of hedges to spruce up the surroundings. As long as its better than the Anglican Church.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That one? We added the various flowers and hedges around the Church. If you want to outdo that, hmm¡­ We can discuss this after a consultation in the future, alright, I¡¯ll need some time to think.¡±

    The elf¡¯s head disappeared beneath the hedge.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised by the sudden progress. Most of us were fooled by the squalor of the district during the initial months. To see it become like this, perhaps the fence was more of a net benefit to them than it is to us,¡± Jan remarked.

    ¡°They are not to be trifled with. They have abilities we lack. Only a fool would seek to exterminate them all instead of working with them,¡± Sarel agreed.

    They came back to the construction site and watched as the framework was being completed. A simple wooden floor was placed, sourced from the Zulus and Sarel¡¯s provisions of timber which he brought via wagon.

    ¡°It would be a shame if construction slowed if we didn¡¯t have enough wood¡± was all he responded when Jan asked him about it. They could procure it from the Zulus, there was no need to do this. It was likely a political thing, so he could say the Church was constructed with Boer wood. Then again, the man made his living through the harvesting of lumber, it could also be for business reasons. Whatever the case was, he kept mum.

    By the time, evening fell, walls were being put up. Men were hammering boards in place around the frame. It was getting dark, and the men were tired, so they retired from their work for the day. Jan wanted to see Sarel to a local inn, but the man refused his offer, saying that he could stay with a local Boer family. Which every man volunteered; every Boer was inviting him to their homes so that he could rest for the night.

    ¡°You know, I must ask. It would make more sense if the Commando of the town accommodated me. But I cannot find your estate, or even a farm belonging to you. So where do you live?¡±

    Jan shrugged.

    ¡°I either live in one of the inns if I want to sleep in another place, but usually, I sleep in the office. My bed is right by my desk.¡±

    Sarel slowly nodded.

    ¡°I see, I will then take up the charity of one of the local Boers, have a good night,¡± Sarel went over the nearest Boer who offered to take him in for the night, and accepted his offer. The Boer excitedly led Sarel to his farm, and the rest of the men headed home, intending to finish the construction by the next day.

    That night, Jan decided to rest his head at a local inn.

    The next day, after the men had their breakfast. Jan had his at a local establishment owned by a Boer. His skin was not as white as most of them. He¡¯s a descendent of a Cape Malay slave and a Boer, resulting in his skin pigmentation. There he was served Bobotie, a dish with minced beef that is spiced that is overlaid with a baked egg. It looked like a casserole. He was served a small slice, which he purposely ordered to see if it suited his palate.

    Biting into the slice, he could taste the curry powder, and he took some time to savour the mix of egg and meat with the tinge of curry. It was palatable, much more delicious than the extremely dried meats he had first tried. He ordered another slice and wolfed it down as well.

    By the time he headed to the construction site, Sarel was already on site, conversing with the farmer who took him in. Naturally, it went along the lines of him thanking the farmer profusely, while the farmer humbly said that it was fine.

    A roof was starting to put up, and a man was climbing up on ladders, hammering away to secure it in place. Sarel, in the meantime, began carving up a cross, a simple cross with no man on it. It was plain and simple. He was transfixed in his work, and he ensured every detail on it was taken care of. Jan decided to watch the artisan at work.

    He worked until evening when he was done, and he carefully looked over the simple cross that he ensured no blemishes could be found. The surface was perfectly smooth, and he cannot, no, would not allow any splinters to tarnish its image.

    Jan hasn¡¯t really seen the need to go that far. Hell, Sarel could have easily finished it in an hour or two, but because he took his own sweet time chipping away it slowly, it became dark. Sarel took one last time to admire the cross, and personally lugged it to the front of the Church. Climbing up a ladder, he hanged it there.

    Climbing down the ladder, he took a couple of steps back to admire his work. He nodded in satisfaction.

    Jan didn¡¯t see anything special. It was a work in progress. The entire building was made of wood. If he wanted any longevity, he wanted to have it be constructed in stone and cement. But with the construction of the Church, the dissenters and complainers who were uncomfortable with the lack of one could finally stop their complaining.

    ¡°I forgot one more thing!¡± Sarel hollered and raced back to his temporary workstation. He grabbed a plank of wood and began meticulously carving into it. After another hour or so, men had brought over candles made from animal fat to help him in his work. Sarel was totally immersed in his work and blocked all exterior stimuli.

    When he finished, he produced a plate, engraved with the name of the Boer, that helped the most to finance the building of the church. He walked into the building, placed the ladder against a wall, and had it hammered.

    And with that, the first Dutch church was finally constructed in Port Mpande.

 Chapter 43: Pretorius inspection

    The most comfortable thing for Jan to do would be to sit on his ass in Port Mpande and focus on building up the town. That way, he could let its people prosper, and smooth any complaints personally. The people might eventually grow to love him for increasing their wealth, but he would never earn the respect of the Voortrekker. When people discuss behind closed doors on whether he could be a Commando, most of them would have doubts. As a mayor, he would be fine. But as a general? Nay.

    And the more he focused developing the town, the richer people got. These people would settle, satisfied with the daily amenities. They would lose what made them trekkers. They would stop going to shooting ranges to train their aim for fear of an attack, instead they will focus on working at their jobs and scheme to earn a promotion.

    These men won¡¯t be able to fight if he brought them out late. He must go to Zoutpansberg and retrieve the gold for industrialization. Else, they will be stuck in an export focused economy, exporting raw goods to the European powers who would use factories to climb the value-chain in the economy. He wanted to take on the role that Europeans took on and serve his Elfrican clientele directly.

    Pretorius was directly in town with a couple of his most trusted followers. They were experienced and battle-hardened through the constant battles with the natives. Their latest experience was with the Zulu, it wasn¡¯t much, but it was there on their CV.

    The Dutch engineer was able to get a working prototype, and he had that for Pretorius and the men to study. They had to squeeze themselves due to the cannon taking up a lot of space in the wagon.

    ¡°Less men will be able to ride it, so I assume you will have to use more wagons,¡± Pretorius remarked, stepping out of the wagon.

    ¡°I see it as more mobile artillery platforms. Artillery is the way to victory.¡±

    Pretorius nodded.

    ¡°Now then, what about the musket? Where do you get them? British?¡±

    He handed over a Brown Bess, the British Army¡¯s muzzle-loading smoothbore musket. Comparing the prices between the local arms workshops owned by the cultivators, the British won due to economies of scale. Of course, when procuring them from the British merchants, he would say he was a British citizen by technicality.

    The merchants would scoff, and ask if he was truly a British citizen, why was he out here joining the Boers?

    And he could only respond by saying that was what the British government insisted. And since they were British merchants subordinate to the British government, they should treat him like one, and sell him arms at favourable rates.

    They would grind their teeth and grumble, but once he would say he was looking to buy them in bulk, they immediately got to work haggling with him.

    It was an old musket. That saw great use during the Napoleonic wars before being replaced in the 1850s with the Enfield rifle. It¡¯s rugged, old and battle tested through decades of warfare, no different of his world¡¯s AK47. And since they were ¡®British citizens¡¯, they might as well use British weapons.

    The muskets weren¡¯t all the same size. Merchants procured them from different sources, from differing branches of the British military, thus they were different in sizes, but it was fine since it was cheap.

    Pretorius was expressionless. There was nothing to be happy about, he expected to have every man equipped with one.

    ¡°Take me to your armoury. I wish to see how many of these you have.¡±

    ¡°Well, we have enough to equip every man, woman and child in this town, with some spares for servants to even fight along our side.¡±

    Jan brought Pretorius and his entourage to a warehouse and showed the stockpile of British armaments he had been stockpiling. Vast number of cartridges was piled up in a corner. He didn¡¯t exactly know how much he had. He had to check the accounts for the exact number, but it seemed endless. It was probably enough for every musket owner to fire 20 shots each.

    Pretorius brushed his finger against a musket. He rubbed that finger and felt the texture was different.

    ¡°There is some dust on these guns. I expect them to be cleaned from time to time. You will never know when the Zulus may launch an attack, no matter how improbable it is, so you must keep your weapons maintained,¡± Pretorius shook his head in disappointment.

    Jan could only feel d¨¦j¨¤ vu from his time as a conscript, where the sergeants could be extremely anal about this sort of thing, and he could only suck it up and polish the shit out of his rifle. At least this time, they weren¡¯t shouting in his face about how their grandmothers could run faster than him no matter how hard he tried.

    He nodded, and Pretorius brushed it aside.

    ¡°Food stocks. How long could you feed yourselves before going hungry?¡±

    Jan showed the canned food that was piling up in another corner. Some were glass, the prototypes from the new Glassworks, but most of it was still metal.

    ¡°I assume you will still be bringing some dried meats just in case anything goes wrong with the canned food. It might spill, or the can was not sealed properly, leading to spoilage.¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°For the trip to Zoutpansberg, I have prepared about half of the required food supplies for the trip. These foods are meant for emergency use so they can last for a long time. We will be trying our best to live off the land with the help of our servants.¡±

    ¡°That brings me to my next question. Have you procured some horses? Or all of you will be in the wagon. It will be good to have a Flight Commando to scout ahead to prevent an elven ambush.¡±

    ¡°I have procured some from Pietermaritzburg, good old Cape Horse that should be in the stables by the kraal.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    One of the men whispered into Pretorius¡¯ ears, and Pretorius didn¡¯t ask to inspect the horses.

    The Cape Horse was what allowed the Boers to dominate the landscape. Imported from the island of Java during the era of the VOC, they were bred to be larger and stronger than the local Basuto pony. Men part of a Flight Commando would ride on horseback at a shooting distance to the enemy, dismount, open fire, and gallop out of the enemy range to reload their muskets. They worked in pairs, so their partner could also fire some shots, before letting them come back with their reloaded musket. Rinse and repeat, it was an annoying strategy, which made the Flight Commando great skirmishers.

    ¡°Then I must ask, what kind of reason are you heading all the way to Zoutpansberg for? What justification do you give your men? Cattle? Riches? Or to help the Boers there? I rather have you focus on developing the port instead of trekking there.¡±

    ¡®Should I tell him the truth? The gold. Hmm¡­ But even the biggest saint would be corrupted by riches.¡¯

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m thinking of assisting the men in Transvaal, but to also commit a scouting mission, and meet with the other trekker leaders in the region. Of course, I plan to bring back a lot of cattle for the men under my command.¡±

    ¡°You would meet Hendrik Potgieter during your trip. I do not think he would be hostile, in fact, he is likely to be accommodating. Say that you serve under me, and I doubt he would give you much trouble. Most problematic of all is the natives. Shaka might have cleared out a large chunk of them, but they¡¯re still there. And they¡¯re still hostile. It¡¯s not like on the Cape, where they are servants. The Khoikhoi and San can be very terrifying out there.¡±

    Jan pointed to his stockpile of weapons in the armoury.

    ¡°And we¡¯ll be ready for them.¡±

    Pretorius was right, and he needed to cook up a damn good reason to get his men to move. An existential threat then to get people moving, but he did not have any nearby. There¡¯s little which would make people care about the happenings of a faraway place, and most of them would rather kickback on the farm and relax. Nor could he use greed as a carrot, since the most recent cattle raid mostly cowed such desires.

    There remained the matter of compensation. But funds were tight. Yet, there was always something he could pay them in, cattle. It didn¡¯t have to be his ones, he could procure them from Transvaal when fighting against the natives, who no doubt will attack him. It is not a question of whether, but when. Yet because they brought along servants, who also would want a fair share of the spoils in the battle, the payment he could provide decreased evermore.

    He was moping around, thinking these affairs when Pietje walked into his office and addressed him.

    ¡°I notice that our stocks of canned food have drastically increased. Commando, are you planning something?¡±

    Jan supposed he should spill the beans, but not about the gold. If he paid these men with gold, it would take only a couple of months before the beans are spilled, and for the English to completely flood into the region. And once they have enough of a presence there, they will call on their British government to secure their positions, and the Boers would be chucked out of the gold.

    ¡°I¡¯m planning for an expedition to Transvaal. Consider it a test for all the new weapons we procured. In the meantime, we can assist any Boer homesteads that require our assistance, as well as loot the cattle of the natives.¡±

    Pietje grinned.

    ¡°Sounds profitable but you better divide the spoils equally! You better not take a lot of the cattle!¡±

    Jan raised his hands in his defence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even own a farm. Where am I going to put the cattle? The local kraal? It¡¯s going to need a huge expansion if I do that.¡±

    The rural farmers seem rather satisfied with his proposal. Pietje may not represent all their opinions, but he surely represented a good chunk. The next question was whether he could get the urban dwellers along with him on this expedition. He went to Russell¡¯s office and asked about it.

    ¡°Will the men be interested in mobilizing to Transvaal?¡±

    Russell shrugged.

    ¡°Highly unlikely in my opinion, but what do I know? Not all will sign up, but most of the ex-farmers will procure cattle for their family farms. The landowners are a giant question mark though. These men who grew stout with their land wealth may not be as enthusiastic and choose to stay in town instead.¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°Makes sense. Enriching them made them lose their edge as trekkers, and they aren¡¯t as willing to trek, focusing on developing their land instead.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ok. These men will fight to the last breath if an elven attack descends on the town. They are good fodder for the elves to slaughter, buying time for the women and children to escape. Consider them as a small local garrison.¡±

    ¡°These men have numerous children as well. The first two would inherit quite a bit of land. But from then on, what would they inherit? Almost nothing. These children of these men will likely be tagging along. So do expect some participation from the landowners.¡±

    ¡°Seems more trouble than its worth. What if they die on the trek? This is no daycare centre; I¡¯m not babysitting them.¡±

    ¡°They are not aristocrats, most of them work on the family farm. They are hardy and can be expected to pull their own weight. You have nothing to worry about on that front.¡±

    Jan paced about the room, before saying, ¡°Good, work with Pietje and send the summons to the various men. This expedition will only be voluntary, so they are free not to tag along if they wish to do so.¡±

    Summons were sent out, and men were volunteering with their various Veldkornets. The rural farmers headed to Pietje¡¯s office, so that he could add their name to a growing list. A scant few turned up on Russell¡¯s office, who also added their names in a notebook. The reason given for few turning up? Apparently, after the last two incidents involving the Boer revolt and cattle raid, there was much work needed to be done to put the port back into shape. Thus, these men wanted to focus on their own work. That was the excuse given. But Jan knew that these men had grown comfortable with the settled lifestyle and lost all what made them Voortrekkers.

    Unfortunately, the composition of the trekking group would make up of the rural farmers, the people he was not very close with. He did neglect them to focus solely on the industrialization of the town. The relationship was frosty, but it somewhat warmed as he spent some time to improve their living standards. There were detractors who hated his guts, no matter what he did though.

    It took a week or so, and Jan set the date to the 4<sup>th of</sup> December 1840 where they will be mobilized for the trek. In the meantime, he held drills so the men could get used to working together within their new wagon groups. Problematic relationships were filtered out, and men were swapped to different wagons, before the men could work with their new teammates coherently. They got used to riding while firing the artillery on the wagon as well as herding the ox in case the servants deserted them.

    Men who claimed they were good with horses were supplied with the horses Jan procured. They were given trials riding them, and the ones who lied were immediately filtered out. Those who brought their own Cape Horse were automatically assigned as part of a Flight Commando, to do scouting missions during the trek.

    The day came and the men made a detour to the Xhosa¡¯s land to pick up the amaZulu¡¯s servants they had contracted with. He did give the men a warning that they would be depending on them for their lives at times, so they should treat as well as how they treated each other. Failure to do so would result in expulsion from the expedition. Adding the servants to the wagons, they travelled noticeably slower, but the Boers were more comfortable as the servants helped to take care of their every need.

    They headed to Pietermaritzburg, the first stop of the journey. As Jan scanned the busy town, he could see it change drastically compared the last time he was here. More trekkers undergoing the Great Trek to get away from British rule settled here, and the town was becoming bustling. There, they made greeting calls to the local Commando, Andries Pretorius.

    ¡°I see you will be going on the trek, good luck out there,¡± Pretorius remarked, and Jan nodded in acknowledgement.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get killed out there. Kill them instead,¡± His father said in a saintly manner.

    ¡°I will.¡±

    They took a short break in Pietermaritzburg, letting the men linger around in civilization for a couple of hours. Afterwards, he got up into a wagon, and the men assigned to the Flight Commando got on their horses and galloped forth. As required of them, they scouted the lands ahead, sending back a messenger to report to the Veldkornets in the other wagons, who would then send a concise report to him.

    Precisely because the Boers were decentralized in their leadership, he could rely on the men acting in the best possible way in a conflict. That way, he didn''t need to micromanage too much on the battlefield, letting the men do what''s right. Except they will likely charge after the enemy after they routed them and get ambushed from a hidden elven party. All right, then, he would need to exercise some authority in warfare.

 Chapter 44: Trek I

    ¡°Large cattle herd spotted in the North. Veldkornet Pietje has assigned another pair of riders to confirm the report,¡± The man riding abreast of his wagon hollered.

    Jan nodded, and the servant guiding the ox along gestured towards the rider, who galloped away.

    It reminded him of the old World of Warships when playing as an Aircraft Carrier. He had to dispatch planes to scout the areas around him, except, the riders were the scouts. Veldkornet Pietje managed the riders, sending information from time to time. But the information wasn¡¯t entirely accurate. If this was a video game, then the information would be objectively accurate.

    However, the information he received is given by other humans, who cannot give objective information. A blurry image in the far horizon could be said to be a mountain or a hill.  As Carl Von Clausewitz put it,

    ¡°War is the realm of uncertainty; three-quarters of the factors on which action in war is based are wrapped in a fog of greater or lesser uncertainty. A sensitive and discriminating judgment is called for; a skilled intelligence to scent out the truth.¡±

    Luckily, Pietje also did not take the reports at face value and dispatched riders to confirm the sight.  Soon enough, a rider rode abreast to his wagon that was slowly pulled by the ox.

    ¡°False alarm. The rider mistook the trees as cattle!¡± The rider hollered.

    Jan signalled to the Xhosa servant, who gestured at the rider on his behalf. The rider galloped away.

    If there was such a large herd of cattle, then wouldn¡¯t there be a fearsome tribe herding that cattle? Much of the area they trekked was depopulated by Shaka Zulu¡¯s conquest. The natives called it Mfecane. It gave the Boers much land to settle on, but the natives were still there, so the two fought over the limited resource pools in certain regions.

    Anyway, the riders gave many false alarms since they were still mainly in Boer territory. Various ranches and townships were spread out as they left from Pietermaritzburg to Howick.

    Howick had little settlement, as most chose to settle nearby Pietermaritzburg. A few enterprising Boers settled the area, and merchants were selling their goods to the constant passing of wagons heading to Pretorius¡¯ district.

    Howick was a simple town, with a large lake filled with freshwater. The Elfrican wildlife made their lake their home, and it was lush with the flora and fauna. The flamingo stood on top of the waters, staring at the humans watching them.

    They took a break here, letting the horses and ox rest. Pietje organised the men together to view the Howick falls. A large body of water gushed over the cliffs straight into the pool at the bottom. Many men were overtaken by the stream of water while trying to cross the river above the falls.

    The constant falling of water was therapeutic, and Jan stood there, closing his to listen to the waters crashing down below. The men scampered around and they met with a Zulu sangoma. The elf¡¯s strange headdress had the men back off and reach for their muskets. But the Zulu raised its hands in peace, having no wish to fight. The commotion roused Jan from his contemplation, and he opened his eyes to see the Zulu newcomer.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ the Boer who set up shop by the bay area. You match the description given by Nokuthula. The least Boer of the Boers,¡± The sangoma spoke in Elfrikaans, although it was hard to understand him due to the sound of the falls obscuring much noise.

    ¡°What are you here for?¡±

    ¡°KwaNogqaza, Place of the Tall One. It is not a place you Boers ought to be. Those who think that they are above nature will fall into this place. It is a dangerous one if you¡¯re not a sangoma.¡±

    Jan frowned.

    ¡°Tell me what is this sangoma you speak.¡±

    ¡°The Boers would call us Shaman or medicine men. But I must warn you, our medicine has adverse effects on humans. Your last resort would be coming to us to seek aid.¡±

    Jan waved his hands to the falls before him.

    ¡°What¡¯s so special about this land? That you must come all the way here. The falls are beautiful, but what else?¡±

    ¡°Inkanyamba slumbers in the pool. No man makes it out alive of the pool once they enter the pool. Inkanyamba is a giant serpent with the head of an equine. It is not to be trifled with. If it rouses, great storms will befall the land.¡±

    Jan took some time to imagine a snake with a horse head. The mere concept was foreign that his mind went blank. The best way he could visualise it was chopping off the heads of a horse and a snake, and swapping their heads from their respective body parts.

    ¡°Have you seen Inkanyamba?¡±

    The sangoma wisely nodded, but said nothing, keeping his lips sealed.

    Any of his men walking near the pool immediately backed off once they heard the tale from the Zulu. Any thoughts of playing in there also disappeared. This was a magical land, Inkanyamba might exist. If this was the old magicless world, he would take the Zulu¡¯s words with a giant grain of salt. Then again, some believe the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot or a Megalodon still exists even if the odds are zero.

    That brought up the second question. Could Inkanyamba be weaponized? His head might be big, as big as Napoleon¡¯s upon thinking such a thought. A mere human using such a creature as a weapon would be ludicrous to the sane. Those storms are nifty, even if excessive rain would prevent the Boers from relying too much on their firearms. Then they will have to fight in melee, and the elves will win from such a conflict. Yet, if there were any ships landing troops, it was a sure way to get them wrecked.

    ¡°Does Inkanyamba accept any favours asked of it?¡±

    The Zulu shook his head.

    ¡°Inkanyamba might wish to do so. But it is temperamental, it will not listen to the wishes or wills of beings like us. All we can do is offer prayers and hope for the best.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°How will you know if Inkanyamba acts?¡±

    ¡°Our ancestors would appear in our dreams and tell us not directly most of the time. But we will know, and I will interpret their message and pass them to others.¡±

    Jan closed his eyes and felt the passing breeze. Opening them, the elf left the Boers alone and went to conduct his prayers. The Boers looked towards him, wondering what they should do next. Should they harass the elf or leave him alone? He returned a glare asking them what they were looking at him for, and marched off leaving the elf be.

    No matter how tempting the supernatural was, he rather stick to the comprehensible real world. And the Boer farmers thought likewise and followed him.

    There was nothing much to see other than zebra or wildebeest grazing by the river. They grazed by the far end, far away from human habitation. The men did some hunting, trying to gun some of these animals down, and successfully shot down a zebra. The rest fled away. And that¡¯s when the second group open fired on the runners, bringing down another.

    A Boer leaned by the Zebra and stuck a pose, grasping the Zebra¡¯s head. A man snorted and did the same on the second zebra.

    ¡°You all look like idiots. Haven¡¯t your mothers told you not to play with your food?¡± Pietje commented and shoved those men off the zebra. He and his men began carving it up. Zebra steak was on the menu for tonight.

    As the men trekked, the Drakensberg mountains were always in sight on the horizon. South Elfrica contains steep slopes that surround the central plateau that faces downward in the direction of the oceans. The Eastern side is known as the Drakensberg mountains, and it marked the boundary between the Free States and the Natal region.

    The Dutch settlers during the VOC era were amazed by the heights. And they gave it the name Dragon¡¯s Mountains, for it seemed the mountains could have contained dragons. Some men missing during the ascent, which further enflamed such rumours. These ideas were not shared by the local natives, however.  The highest point is known as Ukhhlamba in Zulu, whilst it is known as Maluti in Sotho. It means, Barrier of up-pointed spears. The rugged appearances of the mountains, with steep-sided blocks and pinnacles, gave rise to that name.

    But when one swivels their head in the direction of the Free States, the mountains became softer and rounder. An ascent was not as harsh. It was difficult to drive up a mountain, now imagine making a wagon go up.

    Fortunately, they are heading in the Transvaal region, so they trekked forwards, keeping the mountain in sight. The great escarpment guided them, for as long as it stayed in their sights, they would not be lost.

    They stopped by another town. Most of the sites they passed through were settled by numerous Boers and their Commandoes. After all, most families had to pass through the same route on the Great Trek. Some decided to settle where they were, where the land was plenty, further away from Pretorius¡¯ land, where the first farmers snatched up most of the land.

    Mooirivier, as the Duch called it, or pretty river. Its name was deserving, for, unlike the rough rivers that trekkers usually had to ford, the Mooirivier was calm and peaceful, letting trekkers easily ford it. And with the water body so close by, multiple farmers saw it as a great opportunity to claim the verdant lush fields. It was full of grass for their cattle.

    The Zulus called it Mpofana, ¡®young eland¡¯. And like the name, lots of eland antelopes could be found grazing nearby. Up ahead by the Zulu frontier, they could see merchants bringing over cattle to trade with the nearby farmers. None of the farmers did seem alarmed by their presence. There was nothing to fear, trade was desired by both species after all. Worst case scenario, there was always Pretorius down the road to back them up.

    A Dutch Church makes its presence known. It seemed Sarel and his followers had constructed one. Most of the men, deeply religious, made their way inside and spent some time conducting prayers. Not wanting to be left around, Jan followed them.

    ¡°Hello, sir. How can we help you?¡± The angel on the other end spoke up.

    ¡°Tell me about Inkanyamba.¡±

    The furious clicks and typing of the keyboard could be heard from the other end. Grumbles could be heard about how little information they had was heard on the other end. There was also the sound of commotion from others on the other side. Could it be, that it was a giant call centre on the other end?

    ¡°I have very little on file. It is not within our jurisdiction. My advice is to ask a Zulu sangoma if you wish to find out more.¡±

    Jan frowned.

    ¡°Alright then, let me ask, there are many Christian dominations in this world. Do you serve all of them, or are you the Dutch Protestant branch?¡±

    ¡°How do I explain to your technologically backward heads? Hmm¡­¡± Whoever on the other side of the line mumbled out loud. He was pretty sure whoever was on the other side was no angel at this point.

    ¡°Well yes, we do serve all faiths. We serve specifically the Dutch Protestant branch. I was transferred over to this branch when I heard some human nailed some paper on a door in Europe. Most of us were. You won¡¯t be able to understand what I¡¯m saying, so be satisfied that I¡¯m giving you an answer at least.¡±

    ¡°Then tell me. What are you exactly? Are you aliens? Call centres. Keyboards. Mouses clicks. It sounds exactly like a call centre. I know cultivators exist in this world, so are you all in another realm?¡±

    Silence greeted him from the other side.

    Click.

    No response.

    It would be interesting if they were cultivators. Some of them in the Chinese novels powered up through faith, it would not be surprising they made use of this to power themselves in other realms. Still, so many questions, and no answers.

    Another town in the Natal Midlands, Estcourt. Located on the confluence of the Bushmans and Little Bushmans River, humans could be seen with what seemed to be Khoikhoi servants. Their skins weren¡¯t too dark, nor were they too light. The sound of clicks they used to communicate with one another as they herded the cattle for their Boer masters. Cattle grazed on hills. There were a lot of them. If he was the chief of an elven tribe, he would be tempted to raid them for their cattle.

    Pietje acted as a tour guide of sorts, and the men followed behind him as he brought them to a cave. Other Boers were in there, looking at the walls. Rock art was depicted on the walls. Humanoid creatures, which were more stick than man, grouped on the wall. As they strolled past the wall, non-elves could be seen. Elves hunting, elf-animal hybrids.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know much about those strange elf-animal hybrids. But an Englishman told me in Natal that it was likely one of their medicine men.¡±

    ¡°Who made this?¡± The Boer asked in Elfrikaans.

    ¡°San. You won¡¯t see any of them here now. Shaka got rid of them all. I don¡¯t know how old it is, at least decades old at this point,¡± Pietje shrugged and they spent some time admiring the art.

    Although most can¡¯t read or write, art is universal. And they could appreciate it. But like schoolchildren sent to an art museum, they quickly got bored and left.

    ¡°They have so much cattle here¡­ I am so tempted to steal them,¡± A Boer remarked.

    ¡°You stupid? If it was elves then who cares. But these are men like us. I¡¯m going to laugh if you get shot while trying to steal.¡±

    All these numerous towns on the way were fallback points that Jan made in his mind. They haven¡¯t yet reached Transvaal and were still in Natal, so they were relatively safe. But he kept them in mind in case of an elven ambush. Other Boers passed through the roads, and their relations with the natives were questionable at best. One bad incident and they may mark every Boer as the enemy.

    Lastly, after a couple of days, they were on the outskirts of Natal, a small town known as Van Reenen. Named after the first settler Frans van Reenen, he greeted the large party Jan brought along with him. Most Boers travel by family, so a large party attracted a lot of attention.

    ¡°Welcome to the outskirts of Natal. This here is known as Van Reenen. Heading to the Free States or Transvaal? I know a pass that could get you through the Drakensburg.¡±

    Frans looked towards Pietje, who seemed to be the leader of the party since most of the men gathered around him.

    Pietje looked towards Jan, who spoke up on his behalf.

    ¡°Another time. We¡¯ll be heading to the Free States this time. To Potchefstroom.¡±

    ¡°I see. Pretorius, ain¡¯t someone you want to follow huh? Anyway, numerous Basuto Chiefs are nearby. They don¡¯t fall under Queen Moshoeshoe, so you might be attacked. I don¡¯t they won¡¯t attack you considering the size of your party. But I say this to every man who passes through here.¡±

    Frans grinned.

    ¡°Better yet. You could settle down here. Not too close, or not too far away from Pretorius. Pretorius doesn¡¯t have much reach here. So, if you were attacked, you could ask Pretorius for help. I will assure you I can be a good Commando in managing you all.¡±

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°That is not possible, sir.¡±

    He didn¡¯t elaborate further. And they took a short break, before passing the Natal region into the Free States.

 Chapter 45: Trek II

    They were entering into the Kingdom of Lesotho territory, Queen Moshoeshoe¡¯s lands. A couple of Boers had settled down here, disregarding her claims. They lived with the Sotho people, who came to trade from time to time. They were independent chiefs, which Moshoeshoe lacked control over her. She, who claimed to be the leader of the Sotho people in the region, had little power here. She could only grumble about the Boers encroaching onto what was her ¡®territory¡¯.

    The territories were known as the Highveld, and the swarm of yellow grass mixed with the green flora was a sight to see. There are no mountains, only endless plains of grass, perfect for pastoralists.

    There were resting in the small town of Swinburne, a small light of civilization amidst the wilderness. A couple of farmers greeted the large party. Why wouldn¡¯t they? A large Boer party meant protection. And for the few Basuto merchants that came to trade, they were much more careful with what they should and ought to do. The farmers were hospitable once their ears clued to the fact they followed Pretorius and remarked about Pretorius¡¯ deeds.

    The Battle of Blood River was the battle that started the trek. If he had lost, Boers wouldn¡¯t have so easily migrated into the Natal region. And perhaps, chose to stay under the British Colony, and will instead flood into the Xhosa territory. The Xhosa would surely be pleased.

    Men got to work disassembling the wagons.

    Around 150 men were with him on this trip, not counting the servants. 10 people could fit into the wagon, due to the artillery mounted at the front. 8 men were served by 2 servants. One of the servants would guide the oxen forward, whilst the other would help with chores. Whether it be cleaning their weapons, doing laundry or cooking food.

    Some of the men of the 150 were on horseback. He had about 20 horses, 10 purchased, whilst the other 10 were brought about by farmers. They were of Cape Horse breed. The riders worked in pairs, resulting in 10 pairs of horsemen.

    The animals were resting as the servants and the men got to work. Hitting out four pegs of the wheels, the top of the wagon was removed in seven pieces. The men, 2 servants and 8 Boers got to work carrying it slowly over the river. There they began assembling it once more, where the servants called the coaxed the ox over the river. It was a good time for maintenance as well, so they replaced the dead wood with the local hardwood harvested from the trees.

    Jan was surprised at how little action they received. Perhaps it''s due to their party size. What would the elves usually attack? Usually, a single wagon or two is manned by families. But any elf could look at their party and see it as a war party. Only those out of their minds would dare to launch an attack. But at this rate, he¡¯ll have little justification to take cattle and hand it over to his men.

    There were calls for help from other Boers. Surely, he could justify to himself and the men that stealing the cattle from the elves attacking these Boers would be just. The elves could just run off and gain the protection of another tribe for sustenance. It¡¯s not as if they would all starve and die, right?

    As they continued on their journey, the Flight Commandoes reported more and more sightings of Sotho elves following them in the Free States. Pietje dispatched riders to confirm the reports, and the riders reported the same.

    It was a small group of scouts. But that party of elves grew, and Jan could only bite his lip as he heard the report from the rider that the elves following them grew larger.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely we have caught the attention of the local elves. They must be wondering what we¡¯re doing here. I will urge the men to be cautious in their dealings, and not cause them to escalate the situation,¡± Pietje explained as they set up camp. For now, the elves were sitting by a distance from the camp. They couldn¡¯t see it, but the riders were grasping their muskets, watching the elves staring back at them.

    ¡°From now on, form a laager whenever we camp. There¡¯s no telling what they want. A sneak attack at night will kill us all,¡± Jan advised, and Pietje nodded.

    ¡°Such a large group of elves. It¡¯s likely a confederation of some kind. Perhaps to oppose Queen Moshoeshoe''s rule down South,¡± Russell contemplated.

    A Flight Commando rode back. Dismounting from his horse, he reported, ¡°They have dispatched a small group of elves, 4 of them. They bring over some cattle, 2 sheep and 4 cows.¡±

    ¡°Tribute?¡± Pietje bemusedly guessed.

    ¡°Highly unlikely, more likely a trade delegation. Likely also to sniff out what we want. It¡¯s not every day they see such a large group.¡±

    The Flight Commando went back to their positions, seeing the movements of the elves all around their camp.

    And every Boer in camp watched with dread at the elves approaching them. What is it they want? Trouble?

    The delegation wore a mokorotlo, a conical hat with a knob that looked like the head of a lantern on top. Based on their physiques, he could make out 3 men and 1 woman. They wore the Basotho blankets, colourful blankets that looked comfy. Leather boots cushioned their every step, as balaclavas protected them from the winds.

    These weren¡¯t nobodies. The fact that they choose to come now after the elven party has been following for a couple of days showed that. Likely a small-time chief. Considering the number of elves following them, confirmed the elven confederation hypothesis Russell cooked up. There was no way a small tribe will be able to mobilize this many elves to track their movements.

    ¡°Yebo,¡± Jan greeted the delegation who stopped a couple of feet away from the camp. He scanned around the camp, the servants were hiding somewhere, likely in the wagons, whilst Boers stared menacingly at the newcomers.

    Why does he feel like a villain here? With tough-looking guys all around him holding their guns, the elves seemed so defenceless. Are they though? Surely, they would have a knife or two underneath their blankets. He would not shake their hands to confirm that.

    ¡°Sawabona.¡±

    ¡°Yebo, Sawabona.¡±The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The female elf replied. It seemed they were familiar with Zulu customs. Likely, the migration of the tribes during Shaka¡¯s conquest dispersed Zulu customs around the region.

    And they looked at each other.

    Now they were Sotho people, so they spoke Sotho. Jan couldn¡¯t speak Sotho. Boers couldn¡¯t speak Sotho. The servants couldn¡¯t speak Sotho since they were Xhosa and speak Xhosa. Then again, they were Bantu elves. So, they spoke using clicks. They could likely communicate with one another. Although some time would be needed for them to understand each other. Then again it might cause a diplomatic incident if someone said something that might mean something in another language.

    They could do something, or look at each other, wondering what to do next.

    Speaking in Elfrikaans, he asked the Boers to bring him a servant that was a good speaker. And a servant was brought to him. Pointing at the delegation, and at the servant, Jan pointed at his mouth. The servant nodded, and the two groups tried to communicate.

    The sound of clicks could be heard from both parties, and the servant came back to him and shook his head.

    This was going to be difficult. Then again, leaving them alone would not cause conflict to break out, so it might be for the best. It¡¯s rude to leave someone hanging, so he cracked his knuckles and began communicating by using gestures.

    Now how do you communicate with someone to ask them what they are doing here?

    He stretched his hands out and showed his palms to the elves.

    The elves pointed to the cattle. And then pointed at their palm. It seemed as if they wished for payment for their cattle.

    So, he asked the Boers around him, ¡°Anyone want some cattle? They¡¯re looking to trade.¡±

    The Boers took out their measly trinkets and showed them to the traders, who refused every one of them. They instead pointed to the firearms slung on their backs. The Boers sighed and went back to their wagons, not wishing to engage with the traders.

    Jan turned to face Pietje and Russell, who were looking at the scene before them.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± He asked them.

    ¡°I say give them a gun or two and trade with them. I think it is rather rude to not engage in trade. Show that we come in peace,¡± Pietje proposed, and Russell nodded with him.

    ¡°We could turn them away and they¡¯ll understand. These guns are very powerful, surely, they¡¯ll understand.¡±

    ¡°If we make them unobtainable by trade, then they¡¯ll take it by force. Throw them a bone or two,¡± Russell added on.

    ¡°Pietje, you trade with elves a fair bit as a trekker. Tell me, how many guns do we need for all the cattle? I suppose some cattle are good for trade in the future when we trek further inland. We have some spare guns.¡±

    ¡°It depends. If they¡¯re new to trading, they¡¯ll pay a lot. Since they recognize the value of firearms, they¡¯re no newbies.¡±

    Pietje went to a servant and pointed at his musket and a wagon that stockpiled muskets. The Xhosa nodded and grabbed a spare musket. Handing it to Pietje, the Veldkornet handed it to Jan.

    He took the lead and walked towards the delegation. Pointing at the musket, he pointed at the cattle. The female elf shook her head and pushed a cattle forward.

    The cow mooed.

    Jan shook his head and pointed once more to their herd.

    Reluctantly, the elf pushed out a sheep, who baaed.

    Peeking at Pietje, he looked signalled with his eyes. The man shrugged. Russell walked up to his ears and whispered, ¡°Do not be lenient or be too harsh. A generous offer could earn their favour, but you might look weak. Whilst a harsh one would bring about disdain. Still, I recommend asking for another cattle whilst throwing in a couple of cartridges.¡±

    Russell went to the elf and showed him a cartridge. Pointing at the wagon which stored them, the elf rushed off and entered the wagon. Rummaging through the chests and boxes, he retrieved a couple of cartridges and handed them to Russell. Passing it to Jan, Russell took a couple of steps back.

    Jan showed the cartridges in one hand, whilst the musket in the other. He then pointed at another cow, which grazed the grass.

    The elf pouted and shoved the cow forward.

    Jan nodded and passed the goods to a servant, who handed the goods over. The female elf grasped onto the musket and the cartridges, feeling its texture. The Xhosa servant herded the cattle back.

    Hugging the musket with satisfaction, the Sotho delegation made their way back.

    ¡°You think that¡¯s the last we see of them? Since we have done this, it¡¯s likely more of them would come over to trade their cattle for our firearms. So what then? Turn them all away?¡± Pietje grumbled.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±

    The elven scouts trailing them slowly dispersed as they trekked forwards. Satisfied that they weren¡¯t a threat, they left them be. Traders were more daring and constantly came by when they set up camp. This time, they did so in a laager, surrounding themselves with their wagons. Some even rode their cattle abreast and offered to trade.

    Jan ordered the men to shake their heads upon the offer to trade. Those spare firearms were his property. None of them was allowed to trade them away for cattle. And with that, the number of delegations looking to trade decreased in number.

    Harrismith was a small town like the ones they come across on their trek. Few farmers, and a couple of Sotho tribes trading with them. What they didn¡¯t know, was that this town was going to be extremely bustling in the future. It served as a refreshment stop between the diamonds and gold from Transvaal and the Free States. Most of these goods were shipped directly to Port Natal.

    Port Mpande was a small port. So, for large mining operations, it could not do to have the goods shipped there. But a couple of small chests of gold and diamond? Port Mpande would serve well. A couple of tracks of rail ought to be laid here. Though, paving them through the various hills and valleys would be extremely difficult. So, they should not pave through here.

    The farmers and the Sotho elves offered their sheep and their wool. The Sothos offered their colourful blankets made out of wool. Selling some of their knickknacks, his men obtained blankets to wrap themselves around with them. They looked rather dashing.

    They were located by the base of one of those mountains known as Platberg, or ¡°flat-topped mountain¡± in Elfrikaans.

    Sandstone mountains, entirely flat on the top, loomed across them. Scant vegetation scattered loosely below it. In contrast to the rich grasslands of the highveld that he and his men stepped on, the mountains were yellow-brown.

    ¡°Two things we can do here,¡± Pietje explained as he came back from a conversation with the farmers.

    ¡°One, we can hike up the mountain. The view would be nice, and would give us a good overview of where we are heading next.¡±

    ¡°Two, there are some lovely bushman paintings in a nearby cave.¡±

    ¡°You like those paintings?¡±

    ¡°The San¡¯s paintings have a certain style I like. It¡¯s not every day you see something like that.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Jan was a little surprised by his Veldkornet, someone he simply dismissed as a simple farmer was someone who appreciated the arts. A Parisian would probably turn their rich nose up while looking down at this simple farmer, but art is universal. Especially for San art. Else, why did they leave it on the walls? They could have left it in their consciousness to fester. There, they could have constantly replayed it in their memories to enjoy it. But they chose to depict the images from their minds, wishing to tell others about it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be heading to the cave first. If you¡¯re interested, you could follow along. We¡¯ll be hiking up the mountain later to see what¡¯s next.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    Jan grinned and followed the smiling Veldkornet, who excitedly headed to the cave.

    Jan assumed that every elf he saw was Sotho, but he got the shock of his life when he heard the farmer communicating with an elf.

    ¡°Sawabona.¡±

    ¡°Yebo, Sawabona.¡±

    His jaw dropped. Looking towards Pietje, he didn¡¯t seem surprised.

    ¡°Is that elf Zulu? I thought all the elves here were Sotho.¡±

    Pietje shrugged.

    ¡°Shaka¡¯s conquests also reached here. Of course, there would be Zulus here. Now I don¡¯t know whether Mpande would have much influence here in the Free States. Considering the distance, her influence is likely limited. She is likely to have much more influence in Natal.¡±

    ¡°So, they are independent Zulu chiefs, paying lip service to Queen Mpande back in Natal.¡±

    Pietje nodded.

    ¡°I think there are a lot of Zulus here. Most of the Sothos would have fallen under Queen Moshoeshoe. Any holdouts here would be limited since they have to contest with the Zulu chiefs for the resources here.¡±

    ¡°Wait, then the traders we met previously were Sotho or Zulu?¡±

    Pietje sighed.

    ¡°They were Sotho. If they were Zulu, our Xhosa servants could have easily communicated with them. Zulu and Xhosa languages or somewhat similar, so they would be able to communicate with each other. It would be like how a German speaker communicates with a Dutch. Pairing a Sotho with a Xhosa would be like speaking French to an Englishman. They are Latin words, but they won¡¯t be able to communicate with one another.¡±

 Chapter 46: Massacre

    A laager was spotted in the distance. That was the report given by one of the riders who reported back to him.

    ¡°Do they need assistance?¡± Jan asked, and the rider reported that Pietje had dispatched a couple of riders to scout closer. All they could do now was wait. Jan exchanged glances with Russell who was in the wagon with him, as well as the other men around them. Most of them came here to profit. Jan never revealed the matter about the gold to them. So they ought to be excited about a fight.

    It seemed the trip sapped them of most of their energy, for they were neither energetic nor boisterous about the upcoming fight. They were lethargic and looked towards their superiors in dismay.

    It seemed all that talk about fighting and looting was all talk. When it came down to it, no one wanted to fight. He sighed and waited.

    Four pairs of riders were dispatched by Veldkornet Pietje as he considered it to be a matter of most importance. The rest continued riding around their wagon group, scanning their surroundings for any trouble.

    Their horses trampled over the grass and leapt over the bush as they galloped closer and closer to the scene.

    Cattle could be seen outside the laager.

    Strange.

    That was what all the men thought. When defending in a laager, the cattle ought to be in the centre within the laager, what were the cattle doing out there?

    Their eyes scanned the herders of the cattle, and the dark skins revealed all that they needed to know. The sound of whistling could be heard, and the cattle turned to face the riders¡¯ direction.

    ¡°Should we engage? Or send someone to relay it back to Pietje?¡± A rider asked, grasping his musket.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± A rider suddenly announced before breaking away from the group, leaving the trio to continue advancing.

    The elves'' command of the cattle was inhuman, for no human could control cattle that well. They used cattle as a weapon of sorts. An elf whistled while riding one of the cattle and charged right into the laager. The cattle stampeded, rushing into the wagon, rocking it from side to side. A couple of shots were fired from the wagon, but the rocking made the shooter completely lose his sight of the target.

    The closer they rode, they quickly found out that the elf did not belong to either Sotho or Zulu. It was Khoikhoi. But what kind of Khoikhoi? Were they the ones who escaped from their harsh Boer masters, and seized their masters¡¯ weapons? Or were they wild Khoikhoi, who were spared from the Boers?

    ¡°No wonder my father told me to get a Khoikhoi servant, the way they handle the cattle is almost inspiring,¡± A Boer remarked.

    Wild Khoikhoi fought using their cattle. And they use blowpipes containing darts. As well as iron spears, smithed from Khoikhoi blacksmiths. The Khoikhoi did not mine the iron but relied on the existing trade networks between the locals such as the amaXhosa, Zulu and amaBhulu. amaBhulu is what the natives call the Boers, which shows how they recognised their presence as part of the landscape.

    ¡°Help!¡± The farmers trapped in the laager shouted towards the riders, hollering with every air in their lungs.

    Before any of them rushed forward, one of the riders commanded, ¡°Do not rush out! It will take much time before the Khoikhoi can even knock down the laager. We can sit and watch. Worst come to worst, we shall fight.¡±

    They stopped in their tracks, about 200 metres away from the cattle surrounding the laager. They watched as the Khoikhoi attackers watched the newcomers. They were afraid of the new humans entering the fray but watching the newcomers sitting on their horses watching them, they continued focusing on attacking the laager.

    The Khoikhoi rode their cattle, smashing into the laager time and time again. The men inside opened fire in retaliation, but it was hard to shoot when the wagon shook with you, and when you were also afraid of the wagon topping over you.

    The Boers looked towards one another.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can continue watching like moegoes! It¡¯s moerring time.¡±

    They began riding close to the cattle herd, making the Khoikhoi focus their attention on the newcomers who decided to take action. Dismounting around 100 metres, from the herd, he aimed at the Khoikhoi and fired.

    The shot struck home and knocked the Khoikhoi off the cattle.

    Naturally, the Khoikhoi whistled to their cattle, and cause them to stampede to the Boers'' way. Climbing up their horse, they rode away from the cattle. No matter how much the Khoikhoi urged their cattle on, the cattle were unable to catch up to the faster horses, and the distance between them grew exponentially.

    ¡°Elves attacking a couple of farmers in a laager. Lots of cattle spotted outside the laager, likely to be elven,¡± The rider from Pietje reported.

    ¡°Pietje has ordered all riders to join him to rescue the Boers from the elves. He will be heading forward, with or without your permission,¡± The rider rode alongside his wagon, waiting for his next words.

    Jan sighed.

    ¡°What else can we do? We should rescue those Boers, and notify every wagon to do so. Lead the way.¡±

    Pietje rode forth with the other 15 riders. Soon, they spotted the cattle reported by the messenger. Those cattle were far away from the laager and headed right in their direction. Their horsemen were fleeing from the stampeding cattle. The fleeing riders gestured at Pietje, shouting at him to flee.

    Pietje ordered the men to follow along with the riders, and they joined them, to receive a status update from the riders.

    ¡°The attackers were Khoikhoi. We have soaked up their attention, so the farmers in the laager ought to be safe. But now, how will we fight off all of them and the cattle?Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡®How will they?¡¯ Pietje thought about it. They could slowly pick them off, shooting at the Khoikhoi riders one by one. But that could take all day, and who knew what the Khoikhoi imprinted within their cattle, they could chase them till the cattle drop dead from exhaustion.

    ¡°The best way is if our wagons follow up, and open fire on them. That should get rid of the cattle, and their riders.¡±

    And thus the riders rode up a hill, watching the cattle slowly climb up the hill behind them.

    From the opposite side, their wagon group finally spotted where their riders ran off to. They saw the cattle massing by the foot of the hill, slowly making their way up. The men waved towards the wagons. Their tiny hands and bodies looked humorous from here, but Jan quickly realized what he needed to do.

    ¡°Looks like we need to test out our new artillery. Inform the other wagons to load their artillery, and slowly advance with the ox towards the cattle. I want to get as accurate as I could get with this shot.¡±

    The lone rider shouted to the other wagons who followed Jan¡¯s instructions. The ox began taking a steady pace forward, marching forward like Carthaginian war elephants.

    The Khoikhoi and their riders noticed the new party flanking them from the other side. Growing a little worried, they wondered if they should flee, but decided to press their ascent on the hill anyway. Where could the riders escape? See them try to get past their cattle. They could quickly deal with this small group before focusing on these wagons.

    The Boers on the hill made their last stand and took out their guns. Standing in a circle, they peered downwards as the cattle massed towards them. Pointing their muskets down, they opened fire.

    The storm of thunder from the guns erupted, and smoke covered their eyes. They blinked, and a couple of cattle were sent collapsing onto the ground. The few who collapsed were soon overtaken by healthy, uninjured cattle. They worked on reloading their muskets.

    The artillery was pointed right at the cattle and their Khoikhoi masters. Loaded with buckshot, they were entirely engineered to deal with the elven hordes that clumped together whilst fighting. If they were fighting against modern European skirmish infantry, then the artillery would not be very effective. But due to the backward nature of warfare in Elfrica, old tactics were extremely effective.

    Boom! The first wagon opened fire, and Jan covered his ears as all the wagons let loose their buckshot all over the Khoikhoi herd.

    The shot consisting of many smaller metal balls completely shredded any living thing in its grasp alive. Blood stains were left as the shot vaporized the once-living cattle and elves. Their howls of pain reverberated as the other artillery shots made their mark on the entire Khoikhoi group.

    Red, the colour red painted the ground.

    Releasing his hands over his ears, the Commando watched the devastation he wrought on the natives. A couple of limbs lay on the ground, remnants of whatever was left. He dismounted with the rest of the Boers, to survey the destruction they caused.

    What was left of an elf, the upper body with its legs wrecked reaching out toward him. It opened its mouth, a drone came out. Nothing legible came out of its mouth. It stared towards him. He stared back. The Boer next to him shot the Khoikhoi in the head, putting it out of its misery.

    That was only an example of what he saw of what was left on the battlefield. No doubt there were many they missed, more dead than alive. Yet they were still alive and they failed to put them out of their misery. To the elves that slowly bled out and perished, he was sorry he couldn¡¯t have done it sooner.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad I¡¯m not them.¡± The Boer remarked, reflecting on the carnage. He gripped his gun, which seemed to calm him somewhat from the sights they saw.

    Everyone has an image that these trekkers were tough men who could deal with anything thrown their way, but they were human as well. Scary sights were scary sights to them also, they won¡¯t admit it to you, however.

    Before the group were the few families rescued from the Khoikhoi. They were nevertheless nervous. Anything could have happened to them. If they were a bunch of Back-veldt Boers, he could let the men do as they wish, and ravage their wives. But since they acted as Pretorius¡¯ representatives in this region, he decided to conduct things more reasonably and logically.

    But they took the initiative in starting the conversation, ¡°Why did you slaughter all of our servants and cattle? I demand compensation!¡±

    Jan was dumbfounded upon hearing the words coming from the farmer¡¯s face. How was it his fault that the farmer got almost killed by his servants? It meant that the farmer failed to manage them properly!

    Indignant, Pietje shouted, ¡°Shut the fuck up maaifoedie! You ain¡¯t receiving no cattle from us! You got yourself into this mess and we saved you. This is how you treat us? Voetsek!¡±

    Behind the farmer, were his wife and children. Two young boys looked around the ages of 6 to 7, and two young girls around the ages of 8 to 9. They were huddling behind the woman, who grimaced upon seeing the large number of men her husband was dealing with.

    ¡°Alright, I see. Do you know what I see? I see an incompetent jukka that couldn¡¯t manage his homestead and almost got his entire family killed. Now he looks for a scapegoat, so he could justify to himself that it wasn¡¯t his fault. Sir, are you stupid? We have around 150 men here, and you want to pick a fight with us? Don¡¯t you have more important things to do?¡±

    The farmer¡¯s face distorted and reach for his gun, but Jan¡¯s men already raised their muskets at the farmer. The farmer lowered his hands away from the gun, backing down.

    ¡°Let me tell you something. I don¡¯t know why you chose to farm by your lonesome. Maybe you were kicked out from a Veldkornet¡¯s district or a Commando¡¯s town, I don¡¯t know. But if you aren¡¯t I suggest trekking to Potchefstroom. Then, maybe you won¡¯t have to worry about your treatment of your servants. Until then, have a good day.¡±

    Turning around, Jan left the farmer and returned to the bloody mix of cattle and elves. Some men followed him, whilst others who were still wary of the farmer had their muskets pointed at him. All of them were pissed. It felt that they wasted energy on a fool. It might have been better to have them be slaughtered by the Khoikhoi in the first place.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you all think. But I like to have respect for my foes, and I would like them to have the same respect for me. Gentlemen, start digging. We¡¯ll bury this sight. There are young children around, better not let them see this.¡±

    The men nodded in approval, and a laager was formed around the scene. Men got out their shovels and began digging. Most men didn¡¯t bother trying to harvest the meat of the cattle. It was mixed with elven blood. It was tainted, and they didn¡¯t want to know the taste of the elven blood. They dug a mass grave, a simple giant hole. And shoved all the remains into it. Blood stains were still on the ground, but they would be washed away with rain.

    They then worked to bury the mass grave, shoving dirt onto the pile of flesh. When they were done, anyone could see the soil was recently moved, especially with the suspicious red paint on the surface. Yet at least the site was somewhat safe for work. It was still PG-16 though.

    And yet again he received an experience he would never have done before, digging a mass grave. It felt as if he was a villain again. He slaughtered them all in one fell swoop and dug up a mass grave. Aren¡¯t mass graves associated with war criminals? He scoffed.

    Human Society probably never saw these elves equals to them yet. So, it wouldn¡¯t be considered a war crime in this period. He hoped wouldn¡¯t have to do it again, but to get the British out of South Elfrica, many more graves would have to be dug in the future.

    They got back into their wagons, and the servants had their ox trudged forward. Jan watched as the servant in his wagon had his eyes trailing on that grave. His expression was one of great fear. He knew exactly what that Xhosa was thinking. What happened to that Khoikhoi could have also happened to me.

    It was likely if the servants had any thought of opposing or rising to oppose the Boers, such thoughts were squashed from today¡¯s incident.

    The servant changed his glance to his musket. Now he did not hold a face of fear, but one of great determination. Aye, that is an elf who wanted to possess the boomstick he had.

    The gun was the great equalizer in this continent. Without it, one will never be able to fight Europeans or their settlers. The natives can only rely on the environment to bring about favourable conditions. What favourable conditions? Rain. These weapons can¡¯t fire as effectively in the rain. And it wasn¡¯t like he could train Boers to fight in the rain. Ammunition was precious and expensive, plus these men were like medieval levies, who go home after the fight.

    It would make more sense if he had a professional standing army. But here on the frontier, where could he get the spare manpower to have something like that? Every man is needed to be productive.

 Chapter 47: Hendrik Potgieter

    56 kilometres North of Harrismith, the 150 men of Jan¡¯s Commando force, 20 Flight Commando and 13 artillery wagons moved forward. The force was supplemented with additional wagons, consisting of the families they picked up.

    Before they packed up to leave, the farmer, henpecked from his wife, begged to have them bring him along, since it was likely they would perish by their lonesome. They lacked cattle, and their farm was ravaged by the Khoikhoi, it was likely they would starve.

    Jan, seeing no point in bringing them along, decided to hold an open election. Gathering all the Boers in the centre of the camp, he told them about the motion they would be voting on today. All they had to do was to raise their hands, and he would count them. If the number of hands reached 50% or more of the total amount of Boers, the motion would pass. Naturally not all 150 people he brought along voted. 13 wagons consisted of 2 elf servants each, so that subtracted 26 from the sum. This left around 124 eligible voters.

    One man asked, ¡°Will we be squeezing the families with them into a wagon? If it is, I¡¯ll vote nay¡±

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°Why should we have them inconvenience us? Construct other wagons. Iron might be lacking, so it might need regular maintenance, but it''s fine. All it needs to do is to get them in the town, and they¡¯ll do their best to live.¡±

    The men nodded in agreement.

    Voting commenced, and naturally, the option to bring them along won by a landslide. Only a few cheeky Boers decided not to raise their hands, to the jeers from their surrounding mates.

    They spent a day camped there in a laager, working on constructing a wagon. The men viewed the farmers and their families with distrust due to their prior experiences, so they didn¡¯t bother to hand them weapons. Instead, they made small talk with the once rude man, who now acted so meek once he understood his circumstances.

    For quick construction, they didn¡¯t bother adding iron rims and used hardwood as a rim to the wheel. It wouldn¡¯t last long, but they could always take quick stops to repair it. The second was that they shifted oxen from the wagons to the new wagon to pull them along. Travelling speed would take a hit, but they were in no rush. Jan was worried about the ox being overburdened with their heavier load due to the decreased distribution, but the Xhosa servants did not seem too worried.

    The group went into the town of Warden and traded with the farmers and the elves nearby. They asked the farmer¡¯s family whether they wanted to get off, but they shook their heads. They didn¡¯t want to stay near such a small town. After a few days of trekking with the big group, they realized they wanted to have the security of many Boers around them. They wanted to be in Potchefstroom, where they heard Hendrik Potgieter was a generous man, as generous as Pretorius in Natal.

    They didn¡¯t bother telling them about their relations with Pretorius and left them in the dark. So, the group traded with the natives, Sotho and Zulu, who intermarried with one another. Luckily, their Xhosa servants could converse with the Zulu merchants just fine. So, bartering a couple of muskets away, Jan decided to be generous and trade for a couple of oxen and iron to return the travelling speed to what it once was before.

    The one thing he was too embarrassed to say was that even if he lived with the Zulus for quite some time, the truth was that he still couldn¡¯t tell the difference between Sotho and Zulu. He was sure to take that to the grave, and not be killed by some drunk Zulu in a bar where he blurts it out accidentally. All he got was the Zulu greeting taught by Nokuthula, which helped screen who was who.

    After spending a couple of days touching up the wagons and maintaining them, the group left the town.

    Taking a detour from the path to Zoutpansberg, they headed in the direction of Potchefstroom. The one thing they noticed in the region, was that there was a distinct lack of homesteads the closer they got to Potchefstroom. Second, the numerous elves were watching their trek with suspicion.

    ¡°Just now, we were mostly dealing with Sotho and Zulu, but here the Tswana elves dominate. Now, I don¡¯t know why they are tracking us. Perhaps Potgieter had made some agreements with the natives here,¡± Veldkornet Pietje saddled up to Jan¡¯s wagon and explained.

    The Commando looked towards his other Veldkornet, Russell, and waited to see if he had anything to add to that.

    ¡°I wish we could have parlayed with them. But I don¡¯t think our servants would be able to open communications with them. It¡¯s like that Sotho incident all over again,¡± Russell remarked.

    Pietje shook his head.

    ¡°I was not scared of the Sotho attacking. But here, I fear the Tswana. They outnumber us by a lot. The Zulus don¡¯t have much of a presence here. They weren¡¯t as depopulated as the Sotho. Without Sarel or anyone that could counter magic, I doubt we¡¯ll be able to replicate the Battle of Blood River if we get into a fight.¡±

    ¡°No matter what. We cannot show that fear to them. Keep pace and trek forward at the same speed. Any sudden adjustments would indicate fear or whatnot. We cannot let them know we are prey; else we will be hunted.¡±

    This time, the Tswana elves massed in larger numbers than the Sotho people, Jan couldn¡¯t help but feel afraid like the rest of the Boers.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely a show. One of their chiefs will come and parlay. Politics,¡± Russell postulated.

    Sure enough, it seems the Tswana mass was a smokescreen, as the elves parted ways to make way for a big delegation. Small shields with a giant pole in the centre sticking out moved forward as the large mass of spears moved about.

    ¡°They want to parlay, it¡¯s good. They likely won¡¯t want to kill us,¡± Pietje remarked, calming the men in the wagons down. They still held tight to their guns, anticipating a fight.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Pietje hand me and Russell a horse each. Since this is the first impression, we must not look like poor trekkers, and instead, look like proper warriors.¡±

    Pietje nodded and got two of the horsemen to donate their horses to them. A laager was quickly formed, and the men huddled in the centre, their guns pointing at the outside of the laager.

    Like the trekkers of old, Jan rode forward with his Veldkornets on their Dutch ponies and looked down at the elves coming to their camp. The Tswana warriors bunched up in reaction, and Jan¡¯s first thought was that it was the perfect time to wipe them out in an artillery barrage.

    ¡°Potgieter?¡± The female chief asked and the Boers exchanged glances.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Jan replied in Elfrikaans.

    ¡°We can lead the way to Potchefstroom,¡± The chief beckoned, waving her hands.

    ¡°Why are they doing this?¡± Pietje asked as the elves led them forward of their wagons.

    ¡°I think they made a deal with Potgieter, any trekkers seeking to settle in Potchefstroom will be guided by the local Tswana elves. That way, the elves won¡¯t have Boers settle in their lands. It¡¯s a win-win for both parties,¡± Rusell offered.

    ¡°The fact that the Tswana Chief even picked up Elfrikaans shows that relations must be very close. I wonder how Potgieter can accomplish all of this?¡± Jan contemplated.

    ¡°If you ask me, it¡¯s no different from Pretorius¡¯ relations with the Zulu. Mpande and his chiefs have close ties with Pretorius. Potgieter is close to the Tswana elves. If you want to have a peaceful life, then you better cosy up to the locals,¡± Pietje explained.

    They led them for quite some time, and the journey was smooth. No fights, just simple trekking. Every time the men made camp in a laager, they would look at the Tswana elves outside the camp, also looking at the Boers inside the laager.

    He had Pietje lead the education of the rural Boers. They started with their bibles, the only book any man brought out here. They were Dutch bibles, and progress was slow. He didn¡¯t want to lead their education; he was afraid he would be caught out as a faithless fraud. Jan stuck to the books he brought along, which were in Dutch as well, that discussed the history of the VOC. Due to not being a native Dutch speaker, he trudged along slowly among the rest of the trekkers.

    He didn¡¯t expect them to become scholars and be able to read academic papers on it. But he at least wanted them to recognize Latin Characters. An educated workforce and army are a must. They can think and comprehend instructions better, increasing their effectiveness. Ask the Prussians what they thought of education and warfare.

    A couple of kilometres from Potchefstroom, the Tswana elves broke away and told them to go straight in a certain direction and warned them not to deviate from it. It was easy to tell what would happen if they did otherwise.

    The closer they got; they saw more wagons belonging to other Boers travelling to the famed Potchefstroom. Like the crowd heading to Natal, a similar group headed to Potchefstroom. They were trekkers trekking away from British domination of Cape Colony. Pretorius and Potgieter¡¯s rivalry were well known.

    The two established Boer Republics each, and trekkers had both to choose from for security or live like the traditional trekkers of old, by themselves. Now, Pretorius was more famous due to the Battle of Blood River, so many more who sought greater protection would follow under him. But Potgieter would not lose out to his more famous rival. Fewer trekkers headed his way, resulting in better land for those who chose to settle in his Republic.

    The landscape was like Pietermaritzburg. Flora was abundant, and the wildlife was flourishing. Ostriches, zebras, antelopes, and gazelles were grazing by the outskirts. Farms and fields were set up by trekkers, taking advantage of the lush environment of the bushveld.

    The large size of their trekker group attracted eyes, and farmers were worried about the large trekker group showing up. They reached for their guns, and likewise, Jan¡¯s group reached for theirs.

    One man got on his horse and ran to the centre of town.

    Pietje ordered the men to pull back. They would camp by the outskirts and wait for the man running the town to show up. The farmers were relieved and watched as the group pullback. Wagons separated themselves from the group, the trekker families they rescued from the Khoikhoi. They entered the town, looking to claim a plot of land for themselves. Jan¡¯s group could only wait.

    Forming a laager, Jan felt d¨¦j¨¤ vu from his time hiding in St Lucia. It looked as if a medieval army was digging in for a siege.

    A lone Flight Commando galloped to their camp, dismounting from his horse. The rider hollered in Elfrikaans, ¡°Please state your leader¡¯s name, affiliation, and the reason why you¡¯re here.¡±

    Jan got up from his seat in the wagon and put away the books he brought along. Getting out of the wagon, he dismounted and looked at the rider nervously looking around the camp.

    ¡°The name¡¯s Commando Jan Boddewijk, and we¡¯re affiliated with Andries Pretorius. We¡¯ll like to meet with Hendrik Potgieter.¡±

    The rider grimaced upon hearing the name of Potgieter¡¯s rider but nodded and mounted his horse once more. He galloped off. The man had a stoic expression and almost symmetrical facial hair. His upper lip was clean-shaven, but his chin grew a jungle. A simple sunhat sat on his head. Dressed in overalls, and khakis, he met the glance of Jan.

    A group of Flight Commandoes galloped back to their camp soon after. The one at the head of this formation was the man himself.

    ¡°I heard that a group of trekkers affiliated with Pretorius was looking for me. Does Pretorius have anything he wished to convey? He didn¡¯t have to send such a big group to convey a message.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, we came here on our behalf. We will be heading to Zoutpansberg. We are temporarily camping here as a stopover.¡±

    Potgieter¡¯s face grimaced upon hearing the word Zoutpansberg. The other riders¡¯ faces distorted as well.

    ¡°You ought to know, that the men there are known as Back-veldt Boers. It¡¯s a lawless place, and full of men who don¡¯t care about the law. Any agreements made with them will be broken.¡±

    ¡°Tell me more.¡±

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re after. The gold, ain¡¯t it? I have traded with them a couple of times and supplied them with things they desire,¡± Potgieter retrieved a gold nugget from a pocket and revealed it to the men before them.

    If Jan wanted to keep it a secret, well, the cat is out of the bag now. All the men with him looked towards that gold nugget with greedy eyes. His Veldkornets, Russell and Pietje, could not help but lust over that nugget as well.

    Jan kept his cool.

    ¡°You give them weapons in exchange for gold, I believe. There is not much they need from you. They live like traditional trekkers of old. The only things they come back for are our ammunition and guns.¡±

    Potgieter grinned.

    ¡°Correct. Buy a couple of them from British merchants and swap them for gold. They ask where I got the gold from.  I tell them Zoutpansberg. I believe that¡¯s where all the rumours come from. But who wants to go to Zoutpansberg? I tell every man this when they lust after the gold, you will only get yourself killed. Why would the Boers there wish to share their wealth? Better to live as traders and get their gold than fight for it.¡±

    ¡°You still want to go? With one glance, I can tell you won¡¯t make it. You and your little party won¡¯t be able to survive a fight against those trekkers. They fight like the natives, usually the shrubbery as cover and ambush any newcomers. Hell, even the Tswana elves have no wish to go there.¡±

    ¡°Commando, this is my advice. You see, I am also a greedy man. I would have fought and taken the gold by force if I knew I could. But my attempts have all failed, and thus I chose to settle here, far away from the Zoutpansberg Boers to not be perceived as a threat, but close enough to engage in trade.¡±

    Potgieter was almost as renowned as Pretorius, and his words made sense. His men also had second thoughts. Did they want to die for gold? Even Hendrik Potgieter admitted that he couldn¡¯t secure the Zoutpansberg for himself, should they do it?

    Jan sighed.

    ¡°Potgieter, let¡¯s take this conversation in private. Away from prying ears.¡±

    A beautiful town hall was constructed in Potchefstroom, and its exterior was painted white. By its side was a Church, when asked about it, Potgieter replied, ¡°Some men from Pretorius settled here and insisted on building a Church here. I thought why not let them construct it.¡±

    Settling in his seat, Potgieter prepared a cup of tea for Jan.

    ¡°The gold has allowed us to have some luxuries in the frontier. I hope you enjoy this cup of tea. The merchant told me it was very good. If it¡¯s bad, I will never purchase tea from that man ever again.¡±

    Jan picked up the cup of tea and took a sip.

    ¡°It¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°I think the same too,¡± Potgieter remarked.

    Spreading his hands on his desk, he gestured towards Jan.

    ¡°So, tell me, why did you come out here instead of staying by Pretorius back in Natal?¡±

 Chapter 48: Coenraad de Buys

    ¡°What else? As you say, Potgieter, I¡¯m here for the gold.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t what you told your men. The looks on their faces as they looked at the little gold nugget, I showed were not the faces of men in the know.¡±

    Potgieter smirked.

    ¡°Your physique might not be of someone in Zoutpansberg, but your cunning might fit right in.¡±

    Potgieter straightened his posture and leaned forward.

    ¡°Commando Jan, let us be open with one another. I do not know you, but you know a lot about me. So, before we continue our conversation. Tell me about yourself.¡±

    The phrase ¡°Tell me about yourself¡± gave Jan some PTSD from real-world interviews. Moving his mind to focus on the matter at hand, he tried to recall everything he had.

    ¡°The name¡¯s Jan Boddewijk, son of Veldkornet Vincent Boddewijk in Pietermaritzburg. After the installation of Queen Mpande onto the Zulu throne, I decided to settle in St Lucia Bay. There, I constructed a small port with the help of the Zulu. I believe that¡¯s about all,¡± Jan shrugged.

    ¡°Port? I believe you are talking about Port Mpande. No matter how much Pretorius talked about seizing Port Natal, I don¡¯t think he would carry it out. He¡¯s not that mad to attack Port Natal. Port Mpande is very small. Almost as if it is meant to be a smuggler¡¯s haven. Evading Port Natal¡¯s taxes, eh?¡±

    Jan kept silent.

    ¡°A rather young fellow you are. Your father must have supported you every step of the way. I¡¯m amazed that you are even able to organize this expedition. As a mere Veldkornet to Pretorius, I doubt he would be able to send all his loyalists with you. So, I believe the men follow you?¡±

    Jan nodded.

    ¡°Then I must ask, whose behalf are you acting here? Pretorius¡¯ representative, or for yourself?¡±

    ¡°Treat my presence here as not one affiliated with Pretorius, but one who represents himself.¡±

    Potgieter smirked.

    ¡°I can work with that. I would even think Pretorius would need to get his head checked if he sent you as a representative. No offence.¡±

    ¡°Alright then, you don¡¯t have much to say about yourself. Then let me tell you about myself. You might have heard many stories painting me as a villain in Natal. But I¡¯m just a man trying to get by. I left during the Great Trek, but the Sixth Frontier War with the Xhosa was going on, so I had to wait till the coast was clear. Heading into Transvaal, we settled by the Vet and Vaal River.¡±

    Potgieter paused to catch his breath.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to tell you another story so that you can understand better. You see, Shaka Zulu had many lieutenants. There was one known as Mzilikazi. She left the Shaka after her good service and headed to Transvaal. There, she conquered much of the region and founded the Ndebele elves. Another word to describe them is, Matabele.¡±

    ¡°I and other trekkers grouped up to expel her from the lands with the locals. Most notably, the Tswana natives who were conquered by her assisted us in our endeavour. We fought her and sent her off. She left, and we stayed.¡±

    ¡°Now here¡¯s the part you might be interested in. Zoutpansberg. Louis Tregardt and Hans van Rensburg, trekker leaders, had ventured there. They found that the natives had gold. Some men stayed and panned to obtain gold. Now, naturally, every man there got greedy, and it turn into a hellhole.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re talking about men getting shot because they went to the wrong spot to pan gold. Very quickly, the men broke up into separate factions dividing up the plots by the Doorn River. It got so dangerous, that the men left their wives here for fear of what would happen to them once they were shot.¡±

    Potgieter clicked his tongue.

    ¡°Those men are idiots. Even if they got their gold, what can they buy? No merchant dares to step foot in the Zoutpansberg because they¡¯re afraid of getting shot and having all their goods stolen. And so, all the gold has to flow through Potchefstroom, where the merchants gather.¡±

    ¡°You profit off the chaos in Zoutpansberg and once the chaos dies down, you plan to move in and set up shop.¡±

    ¡°Correct. They¡¯ll kill themselves off and then they¡¯ll start begging for some authority to be put in place. Who else but Hendrik Potgieter? We¡¯ve done business over the years; they know I am a reliable guy. I won¡¯t shoot them to steal their gold. I trade to obtain their gold.¡±

    ¡°Why not speed up the process? You and I, we could team up and conquer Zoutpansberg.¡±

    Potgieter shook his head.

    ¡°Maybe if you¡¯re name is Andries Pretorius, then I¡¯ll consider your words carefully. But to be frank, who are you? And what experience do you have in fighting? Don¡¯t be stupid and get yourself killed over some gold nuggets. They are worthless if there is no merchant to exchange for goods for.¡±

    ¡°The British merchants here give you lousy deals. By trading with us in Port Mpande, we skirt British taxes and can get you goods for the cheap,¡± Jan offered.

    Potgieter shook his head once more.

    ¡°How far are we from the nearest traders? Plus, I must secure the gold from the Elfrican tribes. Once they know our wagons contain gold, nothing would stop them from attacking us. Even if relations with the Tswana elves were good, greed can turn the best of friends into enemies.¡±

    ¡°Pretorius installed Queen Mpande on the Zulu throne. Surely, he could get the Zulus in the area to secure the wagons.¡±

    ¡°Tell me how far away is Mpande from the Zulus here. Very. She¡¯s a new queen who needs time to assert her authority around the place. Any Zulu chiefs here are independent. We¡¯ll have to negotiate with each chief one by one across the stretch of land to ensure we can secure the goods. But tell me, what¡¯s stopping them from attacking the wagons? Give them a gold nugget as tribute? Once they know there are ten gold nuggets in the wagon, then they¡¯ll attack the wagon and seize all the gold nuggets instead.¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    And with that, discussions ended with Potgieter, and nothing was gained.

    Jan sighed.

    The trip was a wasted one. He doubted any of his men would dare to venture to Zoutpansberg after hearing Potgieter¡¯s warning. He also didn¡¯t dare to go there.

    Going back to the camp outside of Potchefstroom, he kept a confident face and strutted into camp. Summoning Pietje and Russell into one of the wagons, they began discussions.

    ¡°We have two options. Somehow get the gold in Zoutpansberg without getting ourselves killed, or head back home.¡±

    ¡°If it was any other man, I would not listen to him. But this is Hendrik Potgieter, he is not any other man. It would be stupid to head to Zoutpansberg. I rather go home and see my wife,¡± Pietje commented.

    ¡°I agree with Pietje. Gold might be good. But is it worth dying for? I rather live.¡±

    Wise words.

    Turning around meant he needed to find some Elfrican tribe, attack them and ravage them for their cattle so that he could properly compensate the men. On one hand, he had options. Sotho, Zulu, Khoikhoi, San and Tswana. Now, on one hand, attacking the Zulu Chiefs here would mean little repercussions when he headed back to Natal. But they still paid lip service to Mpande, so it might fracture relations with the Zulu even further.

    There was the Sotho. Queen Moshoeshoe represented them on their behalf. But the Sotho here did not fall under her, an attack or two wouldn¡¯t have many repercussions. The problem is if the remnants might fall under her banner, then she will not be pleased with the attack. Fracturing relations with the Kingdom of Lesotho is a bad long-term decision.

    That left Khoikhoi and San. He ruled out the San because they didn¡¯t have cattle in the first place. Now, Khoikhoi. Independent Khoikhoi chiefdoms were non-existent since most Boers absorbed them as servants. He will have to spend quite some time to find one and attack them.

    That left the Tswana. And unless he never wanted to step foot in Potchefstroom again, it was a horrible decision.

    An astonishingly handsome man galloped up to their camp. His skin colour was mixed. The Boers, not worried about an attack of any kind just looked towards the newcomer and assumed he was one of Potgieter¡¯s men. They continued lying about, trying to read the bible in their hands.

    Bristly eyebrows, well-defined cheekbones paired with a hawkish nose. With a confident demeanour, he dismounted from his Dutch pony and bowed as the Commando and Veldkornets got off their wagon.

    ¡°Greetings gentlemen, I heard you were asking about Zoutpansberg. Why I hail from Zoutpansberg. How can I help you?¡±

    The Boer smiled and looked towards the trio.

    The trio looked towards one another before their eyes slanted.

    They invited him into a wagon and sat around him. Pietje and Russell sat by his side, while Jan across him.

    The newcomer¡¯s attention was captured by the artillery mounted in the wagon.

    ¡°Interesting design. I assume every wagon has one of these. You could level Potchefstroom.¡±

    ¡°And get us killed in the process. So, since you brought yourself to us. Please explain who exactly are you?¡±

    ¡°The name¡¯s Sjaak de Buys, and I hail from Buysdorp, close to Zoutpansberg.¡±

    ¡°De Buys? By any chance, are you related to Coenraad?¡± Pietje asked.

    ¡°Why yes! All who live in Buysdorp do.¡±

    Pietje¡¯s eyes widened and took some time to comprehend it.

    ¡°Can someone explain to me what you all are talking about? Seems like a Dutch thing.¡± Russell asked.

    Jan decided to play his role and pretended to understand. He sagely agreed with Pietje.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a summary. He is the biggest elf-fucker in Elfrica. I¡¯m pretty sure he fucked every elf he laid his eyes upon. Chiefs, slaves, their mothers, and their daughters. I don¡¯t know about the last one, but some say that might be true. Some claim that he has around 315 children. Anyway, most of them trekked with him to Buysdorp,¡± Pietje gossiped.

    ¡°That¡¯s about it,¡± Sjaak agreed.

    Jan tried his best to restrain his laughter. Perhaps reality is truly stranger than fiction. Why does Coenraad¡¯s story sound like a certain adult animation that shall not be named?

    Russell was dumbfounded by the absurd story.

    All he could say was, ¡°What?¡±

    Jan started bursting out in laughter.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Sjaak asked, a little bit insulted.

    Slapping his hand against his knee, he laughed even louder.

    ¡°Heh, I¡¯m sorry, heh, ha. It just sounds so stupid,¡± Jan shook his head from side to side.

    ¡°Well, his descendent is right before us. When my father told me I too didn¡¯t believe it, but well¡­ it seems some men are more naturally gifted than others,¡± Pietje also became downcast.

    ¡°Elf Harem! Is that funny to you?¡± Sjaak questioned, and Jan continued laughing.

    It took some time for Jan to calm down, but he let out a giggle or two whilst looking at Sjaak.

    ¡°It seems you have inherited Coenraad¡¯s genes. I¡¯m sure any elf would spread their legs once they see you. I¡¯m pretty sure I would too if I were a woman. So how much action you got?¡± Pietje bumped his elbow onto Sjaak¡¯s arm.

    Sjaak sighed and brushed his hair to the side. Sure enough, pointy ears were revealed.

    ¡°I have no comment. But can we please focus on the topic at hand?¡± Russell insisted, and Jan took a deep breath. The air in his lungs was all exhaled, and he felt great.

    ¡°Alright. You see, the lawlessness is not something we want Buysdorp since we live so near to Zoutpansberg. So, we would wish if someone could get rid of the chaos there, or put those Boers in their place,¡± Sjaak explained.

    ¡°You¡¯re a half-elf yes? Then surely you would have magic of some kind. And considering how your ancestor, elf-fuck, heh. Sorry, I mean Coenraad spread his love amongst so many elves. Surely, you could pool your magic and seize Zoutpansberg.¡±

    Sjaak sighed.

    ¡°Theoretically, we could. But we will take heavy casualties. Those men are good at fighting. They are good at fighting amongst themselves. It won¡¯t be easy. We have been petitioning Potgieter to act, but he refuses to do so. It seems you all are interested in the Zoutpansberg gold. So, if you¡¯re interested, we could work together and seize Zoutpansberg together.¡±

    Jan¡¯s eyes narrowed. It was obvious how Sjaak saw them. Meat shields. They were there to soak up most of the casualties while Sjaak helped in a supporting role with their elven magic. Then, once they are sufficiently weakened, it was likely they would find a dagger behind their back.

    Potgieter had his reasons, and Jan didn¡¯t doubt the man¡¯s greed. He wanted to secure the source of the gold. But there was a big reason why he wasn¡¯t successful in the first place. Potgieter didn¡¯t want to say, and it was unlikely it was going to come from his lips.

    ¡°We¡¯ll think about it,¡± Jan quickly replied, wanting Sjaak out of here, not wanting to sniff more information from them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be in town. To conduct some trade with the local merchants. If you want to find me, dispatch one of your men to Potgieter, he¡¯ll bring you to me,¡± Sjaak respectably left the wagon.

    Now, multiple factions were vying for Zoutpansberg. Why be someone else chess piece when you can be the player?

    The first chess piece was Potgieter and Potchefstroom. If he could force the man to assault Zoutpansberg due to some reason, then maybe they would have a chance. He would need to broker an agreement to share the gold. Actually, no. There was no need to do so. As long as Potgieter had to trade with the Natal Boers, gold would come into his hands anyway. Two problems had to be solved here.

    Then, there were the Tswana elves. They must have a couple of chiefs by Zoutpansberg, he¡¯ll need to ask around. Potgieter would be a good man to open up diplomatic channels with, after all, there was nothing he would lose, and everything to gain. For the man would be seen as the Boer that connected the Tswana elves with other Boers.

    The third chess piece was the descendants of Coenraad. They were perfect auxiliaries and knew the land well. Their trustworthiness is questionable. No matter how much they said they didn¡¯t desire the gold, it was obvious they very much desired it. This two-facedness is problematic for all future dealings.

    The fourth was the Zoutpansberg Boers. He needed to somehow get them to cooperate with him. But from Potgieter¡¯s tales, it was unlikely that was ever possible. And it was likely there weren¡¯t united in the first place. If he wanted to play that chess piece, he likely had to support one of the numerous factions vying for the gold in Zoutpansberg. Then when that faction became dominant, what use would they have of him? Won¡¯t they throw him away? He needed a counterbalance to his chosen faction, and the perfect ones were the other chess pieces.

    And last, of all, was Pretorius. There was a simple way he could resolve this. Get Pretorius to mobilize some men, work with Potgieter and march onto Zoutpansberg. But would he be willing to do so? He didn¡¯t doubt that Pretorius didn¡¯t know about the gold in Zoutpansberg, but why haven¡¯t he acted? He must have known about the difficulty of transporting them to Natal, which was why he didn¡¯t bother. He could either work on convincing Pretorius to help or act by himself.

    This was going to be difficult. But since the reward was gold, then it was worth it.

    That reminded him, how were affairs back in Port Mpande?

 Chapter 49: Matriarchy

    The recent resignation of most of the bureaucrats in the Port Mpande administration brought endless frustration to the young man. Firstly, it was the Commando¡¯s fault that this even happened in the first place. He was even considering resigning due to the audacity of the Commando to rig the election, unfortunately, Russell had to convince him otherwise.

    Now he had to pick up the slack, training all these new illiterate farmers who couldn¡¯t read or write. And because of that, he had to pick up the roles the old bureaucrats would have done. Luckily, thanks to the resolution of the cattle raid, he was able to rehire their old Zulu bureaucrats for like the third time. He swore that those elves would resign in the next month or so once another incident flared up. They¡¯re untrustworthy, so he pre-emptively hired a larger number of Boer bureaucrats. This gave him more work to do, so he grinded his teeth in endless frustration.

    Fortunately, the new Anglican and Dutch churches in town were able to effectively function as schools, so he dumped them there and left the burden to the priests. Sarel Cilliers headed back home, leaving the pastor that was with them during the referendum to manage the church. He was a decent fellow, and pleasant to work with. The same could be said about the Anglican pastor, although he might be biased because he is an Englishman.

    That was right, he needed to introduce himself. The name is Calvin Day, the temporary Head of the Port Mpande Administration.

    The most troubling of all was the woman he had to work with. Pietje¡¯s wife, Janneke Pongers. On the first day of work, she almost destroyed their entire budget by buying up luxury goods such as tea and coffee for the residents to reward them for the good harvest they had. Luckily, the Commando, knowing how things could go very wrong, left the books in his stead, and so, a calamity was averted.

    Now, that woman has called him to an inn to hold a meeting of some kind. He hoped he didn¡¯t have to clean up her mess once more.

    When he headed to the inn, his gut instinct already told him something was wrong. Firstly, the inn was new. Due to the improving relations between the Zulu and the Boers, trade restrictions have been loosened, and some Zulus have set up establishments on their side of town. Knowing the Boer propensity to revolt, there were strict-looking Zulu warriors outside. He had no doubt he was going to get manhandled if he misbehaved inside.

    They asked if he had a reservation and his eyes popped out of his forehead. What is this? A luxury establishment? No one can afford something like this here! He grinded his teeth and told them the name of the detestable Janneke Pongers who had invited him over.

    A Zulu went in, and he stood outside, while the others looked at him menacingly. Is there somewhere he could leave a review about how unwelcome he felt without getting killed by the owner and the elves they have?

    The Zulu finally came out, and his expression softened, nodding his head. Gesturing at Calvin, the bureaucrat followed behind him. The moment he walked into the establishment, he realized why he wasn¡¯t welcomed.

    For some reason, the establishment was full of women.

    Boer women were sitting together with Zulu elves on the other side, dining together in harmony. They had some difficulties communicating, and they had to use hand gestures to talk with one another, but it was a pleasant dining experience.

    Calvin now felt extremely unwelcomed, and his first urge was to get out of there. However, once the first woman spotted him, the rest turned their gazes onto him. And now he wanted to dig a hole and hide there.

    The scariest thing was that all of them had guns slung on their shoulders, and he could see a couple reaching for their guns. But the Zulu guard raised his hands, showing that the man behind them was a guest. And the women relaxed, pretending he did not exist, which was something he was rather glad about.

    The guard brought him to the second floor, and he took some time to admire the Zulu d¨¦cor of the first floor. Animal skins as a rug, animal heads mounted on the wall and a couple of wood carvings of agricultural produce such as maize and sorghum, likely produced by Zulu artists. Chairs were carved out of wood, with engravings of elves on the sides. Tables were covered with fabric, and it looked as if a bonafide restaurant was transported onto the frontier.

    ¡®How?¡¯ He could only think as he climbed up the stairs.

    The second floor was even weirder. All the tables were empty except for one that had three seats. There, Janneke Pongers was reading a book with Zulu Chief Nokuthula. Janneke pointed at a certain point, and Nokuthula explained in Elfrikaans. It seems the Zulu was teaching her to read. Most strange indeed.

    The two finally spotted the newcomer, and the two pointed at the seat reserved for him. Settling into the seat, the Zulu guard, the only other male on the floor went back downstairs, leaving the three awkwardly looking at each other.

    Janneke seemed like a mild manner woman at first glance. Her blond hair was distinctive considering most had brown hair. The issue was when she opened her mouth, she became extremely boisterous, which was something, he supposed was a trait of the women on the trek. They were no pushovers. Somehow, she was able to organize all the women in town around her. And with most of the men going for the Commando¡¯s expedition, that left them the most powerful political group in town.

    Janneke closed the book she was ruffling through and exchanged glances with Nokuthula.

    ¡°Calvin, the reason why I have invited you today is to tell you the changes I will be making.¡±

    ¡°And you need my assistance in passing the changes?¡±

    ¡°Let me finish what I say,¡± Janneke cut the bureaucrat off before he went into his spiel complaining about everything and anything.

    ¡°You see, Chief Nokuthula and I had fruitful discussions, we even got all the women together and held this event to build our understanding of each other,¡± Janneke explained and Nokuthula nodded along, smirking.

    ¡°Inspired by the Zulu ways, we¡¯ve decided to establish a matriarchy like the Zulu ways. It seems you men have no idea how to run things, always somehow causing so much trouble here and there. Name me the number of incidents the Zulu had caused for us in town. Nothing? Well, that is zero. But what have we done to them? Many, I tell you. It appears there is something to learn from the Zulu way of governance.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°No, no, no. We are not establishing a matriarchy. Why would I even support such a stupid motion? I¡¯m sorry, Janneke, but you¡¯ll have to let your Zulu dreams die.¡±

    Nokuthula began shaking her head.

    ¡°But you see, whilst your Commando left you two to rule the town. As a Veldkornet of the Zulu side of town, wouldn¡¯t I have some say in your governance? I support Janneke¡¯s proposal to turn the Boer side of town into a matriarchy. Two votes for yay, one vote for nay. Motion passed! So as the bureaucrat managing the town affairs, please enact this motion immediately.¡±

    Calvin banged his fist against the table, rattling some of the wooden plates on the table.

    ¡°Oh, hell no! If you insist on forcing this through, the other men and I will revolt! Once the men come back from their expedition, they will return things to normal. I suggest an end to a meddling in Boer affairs, Zulu.¡±

    The two women started laughing at Calvin¡¯s aggression. The man¡¯s face turned red as he was unsure of what to say next.

    ¡°Heh, can¡¯t take a joke can¡¯t you, Calvin? Heh,¡± Janneke sputtered along with you Nokuthula.

    ¡°Heh, I suggest calming down with a drink or two, heh,¡± Nokuthula pointed to the cup before Calvin.

    The bureaucrat picked up the drink and looked at the white substance inside it. Taking a sniff, it did not smell fishy. He gulped it down, and it was sour, dreadfully sour. Sour milk it was, amasi its name.

    The two women regained their previous seriousness.

    ¡°Now of course I know you men will revolt. You¡¯re not as cultured as the Zulu in their ways. So, I am satisfied with a compromise. Commando Jan was interested in a special matter called Women¡¯s Suffrage. What other time than to force that through with most of the men gone?¡± Janneke smirked.

    ¡°There was a certain Boer woman who caught my eye in the Boer side of town, a woman called Cathelijn Buncke. I¡¯ve done my investigations and found that she was the source of most of the posters calling for the improvement of rights of women whilst decrying the Commando¡¯s name,¡± Nokuthula snapped her fingers.

    A Zulu assistant brought over another seat, and went downstairs, bringing a certain well-dressed middle-class woman. Unlike the simple attire of Janneke, Cathelijn¡¯s wear was colourful, showing the lavish use of dyes in her wear.

    ¡°Ahh, finally. So, it''s time? Ain¡¯t it,¡± Cathelijn remarked.

    ¡°Since this is in Commando Jan¡¯s best interest, we expect your cooperation, Calvin Day.¡±

    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to?¡±

    All three of them began cracking their knuckles.

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll be locked here. We¡¯ll see how long you¡¯ll last before you start crying for help. We¡¯ll be putting you in the secret basement, no one will be able to hear your cries for help.¡±

    Calvin¡¯s first thought was to immediately get out of there. And he looked towards the windows. He could run there, but could he outrun the Zulu Chief?

    Realising he was trapped; he meekly nodded his head.

    ¡°I expect your cooperation in suppressing any unrest from the locals.¡±

    It went just as well as he expected. Farmers, priests, landowners, shopkeepers, and all strata of society were protesting the fact that women now had equal rights to them.

    They were holding their bibles.

    ¡°The bible never says this! Remove this sin from this town!¡±

    They were parading in town with their bibles.

    Calvin could only hold his head in frustration due to the trouble caused by the enactment of the latest suffrage laws.

    He looked at his co-worker, who smiled sagely upon watching the chaos unfold.

    ¡°Janneke! All our bureaucrats are out there also protesting! You should not trust those Zulus! They¡¯ll destroy the entire town!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have also organised the girls to put a stop to the unrest,¡± Janneke pointed at the other side of town.

    And there, women dressed in men¡¯s overalls, and khakis paired with a simple shirt held their muskets pointing at the men.

    ¡°Wait, wait. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to open fire on them!¡±

    ¡°Well, if they don¡¯t listen to orders, then they ought to learn who runs this town.¡±

    The women flanked out, slowly advancing with their muskets pointing at the men protesting.

    ¡°Can someone tell me how she got a sabre? Where did she get that from?¡± Calvin demanded, pointing at a woman who held a British Cavalry Sabre. She pointed the blade right at the men, whose jaws dropped upon seeing their wives¡¯ pointing guns at them.

    They tried to reach for their guns but one of the women hollered, ¡°Anyone who tried to reach for their guns will be shot on sight! You will now disperse or be fired upon! I give you 10 seconds to evacuate the area! Starting from 10!¡±

    The men exchanged glances and thought they wouldn¡¯t dare.

    One of the women raised their musket in the air and fired a shot the moment the number 10 was declared.

    Bang!

    9.

    The sounds of horses galloping in the distance could be heard, and the first-ever Female Flight Commando was organized right before their eyes. In their hands were even more sabres!

    Bang!

    8.

    Another shot rang out into the sky, as the horses began rearing up for a charge. The men grew nervous. Even if they didn¡¯t dare to shoot, they¡¯ll get hurt if the horses get into a charge.

    Bang!

    7.

    The wiser among them realized if they didn¡¯t move, they¡¯ll get hurt. So, they started dispersing.

    Bang!

    6.

    Diehard brave men stared at the women bearing their guns at them.

    Bang!

    5.

    Now that diehard group was slowly dispersing as they see the horses charging from the distance.

    Bang!

    4.

    There were around ten men left, who prayed to their holy books to protect them. Whether they were devout or stupid is questionable.

    Bang!

    3.

    ¡°Ahh, you know what. I shouldn¡¯t be wasting gunpowder for this. Charge!¡± The woman holding a sabre bellowed, and the horses began charging. The women holding the guns dived out of the way into the numerous alleyways.

    Like the traditional European Cavalry Charge, they charged headfirst into the column of men and brought down their sabres onto the men. Naturally, they didn¡¯t wish to severely injure someone¡¯s husband, so purposedly nicked them on the arms and legs.

    The men, realizing that their holy book was useless against real injuries, screamed in pain as they fell onto the ground, with cuts on their arms and legs.

    ¡°Looks like the training has paid off,¡± Janneke remarked. The bureaucrat had a massive migraine as he watched the men sprawled on the ground, hollering that they were hurt by them.

    He supposed Jan¡¯s notion of women serving is possible after watching the sight before him. It took some extraordinary discipline to purposely not hack a man in two in a cavalry charge, which showed some intense training undergone by the women.

    ¡°Where did you even find the time to do something like this?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? We¡¯ll only have to spend some hours a day tending to the fields, tending to the kids. There are large chunks of time when we have nothing to do but get together. And since most of the men are gone, I thought it is good if we train ourselves into a capable fighting force. I have women that can fire artillery, flight commandoes as well as sharpshooters. We can, and ought to defend ourselves.¡±

    At that moment, Calvin prayed for the men to come back to town and restore order before the women destroy the town any further. He was further afraid of any changes as women now made out the biggest political group in town, and there was nothing he could do. The matriarchy first proposed by her and Nokuthula was a joke, but he was starting to feel that there might be a tinge of seriousness in that proposal.

    ¡°So uhh, are you going to dispatch doctors to help them, or leave them wailing on the ground?¡±

    Janneke checked the clock in the office, ¡°Wait for around 15 minutes, let the pain sink in before we try to relieve it.¡±

    The bureaucrat decided to leave the office and ran straight away home. He packed his bags, ensuring that he could flee the first thing anything went wrong.

    The next day, half of the bureaucrats resigned in protest. Calvin began grumbling about the unreliability of Boer and Zulu bureaucrats. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would scream for hours about the amount of effort he put to work training them, and this is how they repaid him.

    ¡°Do not worry about the stream of resignations. I have some literate women. Funnily enough, they picked up things faster than the men. I wonder why? It¡¯s almost as if women outperform men in education,¡± Janneke patted Calvin¡¯s shoulder and went to her office.

    For a few seconds, he thought why he was even needed here. Janneke is running the town much better than him. Those women are way more loyal to her and are unlikely to resign in a time of crisis. He took a break for the day, went back home, and lay in bed.

    Staring at the ceiling, he thought about the meaning of life.

 Chapter 50: Trade Routes

    ¡°Jan? Here again? I thought we had discussed things last time,¡± Potgieter¡¯s head perked up upon seeing the young Commando.

    ¡°I took some time to think. But I thought of a good way to secure the route between Potchefstroom and Pietermaritzburg.¡±

    ¡°Go on, I¡¯m listening.¡±

    Taking in a deep breath, Jan elaborated, ¡°During our trek here, we have met with the local elves, Sotho, Zulu, and Tswana. Now, we all know you have a partnership with the Tswana, so we could discount them as a threat. So, our two threats to any trade routes are Sotho elves and Zulu elves. The problem is that each group has numerous chiefs we must negotiate with. But what if we put a single, centralized power in charge in the region, and they will protect the routes there? Like that, all we have to do is pay the protection fee to that power, and things will run smoothly.¡±

    Potgieter became intrigued.

    ¡°Sotho? Then Queen Moshoeshoe would be a good candidate. But the tribes do not fall under her. And she¡¯s unlikely to come out of that fortress of hers to ensure their subordination. We might have a problem with Sotho.¡±

    Jan smirked, tapping his fingers on the table.

    ¡°Well, you see, what if we got rid of the Sotho elves, indirectly? You see, it is troublesome to negotiate with two parties. One party breaking their end of the bargain would give us endless headaches. What I want to put into power is the Zulu.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve met numerous Zulus on my way here. Now, you should know of our ties with Queen Mpande back in the Zulu Kingdom. Her influence here is meagre. But what If I know someone that can increase her influence here? Then, we install her as the direct party we negotiate with.¡±

    Potgieter slammed his fist against the table.

    ¡°That is a foolish decision. Empowering the Zulu, increasing their centralization of power. It would only bring trouble to all of us. What if you indirectly create the next Shaka?¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not empowering someone who has that much authority as Shaka. I plan to have Princess Cetshwayo increase her influence here. Now, why her specifically? Well, she was a key partner during the construction of Port Mpande. Since we have some history in our relations, then we can negotiate with her.¡±

    ¡°Why would she even listen to you?¡±

    ¡°You see, she isn¡¯t the heir apparent for the Zulu throne. So, she is desperately coming out with numerous schemes to build up her power base. The partnership with us is an example. She wants and needs to build up favour with Queen Mpande, what better reason to secure the submission of the Zulu elves in Transvaal? Of course, if you hand over a couple of gold nuggets as tribute to sweeten the deal.¡±

    ¡°It sounds as if only you¡¯ll benefit. What is it for me?¡±

    Jan shook his head.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand. What ramifications if Princess Cetshwayo decides to increase her influence here? Do you think every Zulu chief would fall under her thumb? No. And surely, her presence would result in hostilities. Now then, when they fight, some elves would flee in other directions. Some would flee to your Tswana friends, and then they would fight. This would weaken your friends and prevent a knife on your back.¡±

    ¡°Second of all, those British merchants charge such high fees. But we are Boers, of course, I won¡¯t charge so outrageous fees. Not funny? Fine, in all seriousness, because we skirt British taxes, all goods coming to you will be cheaper. And¡­ Boer gold will flow within Boer hands.¡±

    Potgieter held his head in his hands.

    ¡°What you¡¯re proposing is another Mfecane, the displacement of numerous elves in the region to ensure our trade routes would be secure? Boy, the repercussions of such a thing are unpredictable.¡±

    Jan took some time to think. ¡®The removal of a group of people from lands¡¯, wait isn¡¯t what he¡¯s proposing genocide?

    He paled momentarily but regained his confidence.

    ¡°They can instead submit to Zulu rule or migrate. It¡¯s very simple. All we want them is to not attack our trade routes. If they break that agreement, then actions have consequences. They should learn to listen to instructions.¡±

    ¡°Then what then? Zulus will be stronger. We¡¯ll suffer eventually.¡±

    ¡°But you see, as I¡¯ve said. Princess Cetshwayo is not the heir apparent. And she would have to invest some resources into this initiative instead of jockeying for favour in the Zulu royal court. Then, fewer chiefs in the Zulu royal court would support her. When Queen Mpande dies, a civil war would break out. Once the dust settles, the Zulus will be much weaker. Then, we don¡¯t have to worry about an attack since they¡¯ll be too busy licking their wounds to bother.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why Potgieter, you¡¯re the key to this. Gold. If it gets the existing Boers in Zoutpansberg this greedy, now imagine how an elf would feel once they are given a couple of these nuggets. All just to ensure a couple of trade caravans won¡¯t be attacked. If you ask me, it''s free money for nothing. Why wouldn¡¯t they accept the deal? Just put in some effort to assert your control over the region and collect gold every week.¡±

    ¡°The problem is the elves would not be satisfied and may want more,¡± Potgieter rebutted.

    ¡°Potgieter, where does the gold come from? Zoutpansberg, or specifically, from your side. If a wagon is attacked because they got greedy, then we will temporarily pause trade. You also stop paying the gold for that week. If they complain, we can just say they didn¡¯t do their job properly. And even if they tried to attack you directly for the gold, won¡¯t they have to go through the Tswana elves? No matter how you see it, we come out on top in the end.¡±

    Bashing the table, Jan confidently summarized.

    ¡°In summary, elves in the region are weakened. We come out stronger. You get cheaper goods and you¡¯ll be able to take advantage of Port Mpande.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Potgieter chuckled.

    ¡°What an absurd idea. And you¡¯ll need me to nod my head so then you can send the proposal to the Zulus. You know what? I give you my agreement, we can negotiate about the gold or whatnot later. If I don¡¯t like it, I¡¯ll pull out of the agreement.¡±

    Potgieter clasped his hands together and rested his chin on his hands, ¡°Why don¡¯t you come work for me and not for Pretorius? I can give your men good land here; it would secure their loyalty. All you must do is keep my interests in mind whilst working for Pretorius. It¡¯s not too hard.¡±

    ¡°As long as the favour is not too unreasonable. But Pretorius has been my benefactor throughout my journey, I¡¯m afraid I am a loyal man. And you wouldn¡¯t trust me if I fell so easily into your grasp, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± Jan got out of his seat and smirked.

    ¡°Now then, I¡¯ll get to work drafting the proposal. Because I need every man here, I hope you will be able to send one of your messengers to deliver it to Pietermaritzburg, before forwarding it to Port Mpande. One of Princess Cetshwayo¡¯s loyal minions resides in the Port. She will ensure the princess¡¯ eyes will be borrowed.¡±

    ¡°Heard you were looking for me,¡± Sjaak De Buys entered the Boer laager. The handsome descendent of the human elf lover, Coenraad, had a stern expression on his face.

    Pietje shattered it by asking, ¡°How many women have you bedded today? I heard many of the men in Zoutpansberg left their wives here. They must be so lonely, I¡¯m sure you have helped relieve them.¡±

    Coenraad, who didn¡¯t know what to say, could only sigh, wiping the stern expression on his face.

    ¡°Now Sjaak, I am interested in securing Zoutpansberg, but that does not mean we¡¯ll cooperate. I want an overview of the land. And I need the De Buys'' assistance. Since you and your family are so near there, surely you must know the lay of the land. We would like to see and meet with the local Tswana tribes.¡±

    Sjaak, finally relieved to be talking about serious matters, nodded his head.

    ¡°That is possible. But you¡¯ll have to wait till the end of the week. I still have business to conduct in the town.¡±

    ¡°That is fine, we too have business to conduct.¡±

    The Tswana elves. If he could secure their cooperation, they could help influence Potgieter to act. There are multiple Tswana tribes, but they are a minority in South Elfrica compared to their brothers further North, in modern-day Botswana.

    Tswana tribe resided nearby in Potchefstroom, and most of the elves he saw in the town were from that tribe. Other than them, they were the Sotho, and they were able to communicate with one another.

    Bathaping translated to ¡®those with an affinity for fish¡¯, and like the name implied their diet primarily involved fish. From the stories of the Tswana elves that Potgieter introduced, it appears the tribe split sometime in the past, and those who remained were now known as ¡®those who remained behind to eat fish¡¯. He had difficulty understanding most of the Tswana terms, for they didn¡¯t translate very well to Elfrikaans. The elf also shrugged his shoulder when he asked for further assistance. But the Bathaping was a general term describing the tribe. A tribe consists of many clans.

    Jan didn¡¯t ask further since he didn¡¯t want to bother with knowing every clan name consisting of around hundreds of elves each. Somehow, they were similar in number to a Commando force. He didn¡¯t need to know every Commando out there; he would be fine not knowing every Tswana clan out there.

    There was also the Batl?kwa, which is a tribe that consists of people who identify as either followers of Tl?kwa kings or the descendants of those followers. They have a totem which looked like a cat called the Tlokwe-cat. It was hard to find these days since it was hunted till it can¡¯t be found anymore. He could find one or two in the wild, but he will have to be lucky. A lot of the Tswana elves he met identified as part of this tribe.

    He could probably go on the whole day about Tswana culture and the tens of tribes and the thousands of clans, but most of them wouldn¡¯t provide much assistance when he asked about Zoutpansberg.

    They were primarily based around Potchefstroom. Zoutpansberg is rather far from their current location, so he had little information to work with. Either way, he was assured that there were Tswana tribes in the region. But he was warned about going further North-East into modern-day Zimbabwe. Mzilikazi and her Matabele have a sizeable presence in the region, and they conducted numerous border conflicts with the Tswana in the region.

    That was when they told him that as a Boer, they should help the Tswana tribes out if he ever venture that far since they had been so hospitable to him. When hospitality meant not getting killed, then sure, they were extremely hospitable.

    The mention of Mzilikazi and her Matabele elves recalled the sixth faction in the picture. If he asked any Zulu, they would say Mzilikazi would be second to Shaka in greatness. They could say something like that since they were somewhat related to one another.

    But if he brought her in, he might end up getting everyone killed. No doubt, she would be somewhat vengeful of that defeat Potgieter, and the other trekkers served her with the help of the Tswana elves.

    Parlaying with Queen Mzilikazi diplomatically might be suicidal, but she should know the value of guns and gunpowder. If he offered it to her on a carrot, she would come biting. Now, how much would she request to have her launch an attack on Zoutpansberg? But that was a horrible decision because once she found out there was gold, she ain¡¯t going to go home to Zimbabwe, and would even stay to wreak havoc.

    The matter of Zoutpansberg and its cursed gold.

    It¡¯s giving him a massive headache, and he would rather back home. Everyone here wants that gold, and his back isn¡¯t safe, since it is safe to assume he would be backstabbed once his position is weak.

    Potgieter was someone he could show his back two, for they knew they were in the same boat. The elves? He was pretty sure if Mzilikazi wasn¡¯t a problem for the Tswana, the Boers would become the problem for the Tswana elves.

    To ensure the safety of all Boers in the region, he must not get rid of the Mzilikazi threat. And in fact, he should ensure she was dangerous to keep the Tswana on a leash. After all, when your name means ¡®the great river of blood¡¯, he was sure any elf would fear Mzilikazi.

    He spent days conversing with the local Tswana as well as the locals living in Potchefstroom. They were friendly folk. It took some time for them to warm up, but once they realized that Boer''s camp outside wasn¡¯t a threat, they welcomed him and his men.

    ¡°Commando Jan, ready to go?¡± Sjaak asked and got off the wagon which stopped right by their laager. Other half-elves dismounted from the wagon with him and waved towards the Boers. The Boers waved back.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    The group began setting off in a column, slowly trotting forward with the ox. Flight Commandoes resumed their duties scanning their surroundings for threats. They reported to Pietje about the movements of various elven tribes.

    Reports came every minute.

    ¡°Tswana elves in the North, a rather large village!¡±

    ¡°They have dispatched some elves on horseback to track our group!¡±

    ¡°They have horses? Fok!¡± Pietje yelled.

    At some point, the immense reports of Tswana elves nearby grew tiring, and the men reported in fewer and fewer frequencies.

    ¡°Few Boers come by this region. It¡¯s full of elves. I don¡¯t think any man can settle here without getting rid of them. They also have no intention of fighting. We ought to respect that,¡± Russell commented, and Jan nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Potgieter keeping the Boers in check. They know they cannot fight against the endless number of Tswana here since they number in the hundreds. And I believe they obtain horses from trade with the local Boers.¡±

    Looking out the window, Jan watched an elephant being hunted by Tswana natives. They were using a mix of guns and spears. Very soon, they brought down the beast. As the wagon passed by, he could watch the Tswana harvesting the ivory off the animal.

    That was how they travelled.

    Whenever they made a stop in a laager, local Tswana come up to trade. They presented their ivory and pointed at their muskets and cartridges. He shook his head and pointed to Sjaak, who would help communicate with them.

    Sjaak mocked them.

    ¡°There is nothing to fear. I don¡¯t think they wish to attack you. A dead Boer would result in less trade. Notwithstanding the repercussions from Potgieter, there¡¯s no need to keep your guard up. Unless you¡¯re planning to settle here, then there¡¯s no need to bother.¡±

    ¡°In the past, someone once told me this. Low crime does not mean no crime. They might not have pushed the dagger within my back, but I should not show my back to their dagger.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it is a human thing. But I do not feel such fear. I can empathize with the elves around us.¡±

    ¡°Why do you say that? You¡¯re no different from the Griqua back in Cape Colony. Boers won¡¯t see you as human, elves don¡¯t see you as an elf, resulting in limbo.¡±

    Sjaak shrugged and didn¡¯t say further on the matter.

    A couple of days later, they reached Buysdorp.

 Chapter 51: Dwarves

    Reaching the outskirts of Buysdorp, a small farming community can be spotted. A fence demarcated the various buildings from the dirt road that was no doubt created due to the numerous foot traffic. A half-elf stood guard by the outskirts with a strange stance. He seemed to be in much pain and perked up upon seeing the wagon group heading in. He began waddling over to the wagons. The half-elf took big strides, slowly shifting his left foot forward, before slowly shifting his right foot forward. He grimaced throughout his strides, and Jan was worried that the person might collapse suddenly.

    He turned to Sjaak, who was deviously grinning at that man¡¯s suffering. Which brought a question to his mind? They are the descendants of man and elf, how should he address them? Human? But that would disregard their elven traits. Elf? But that would disregard their human traits. So, what then? He decided to borrow over the term used from the old world, ¡®coloured¡¯ since it succinctly described them in a nutshell.

    Sjaak got off his wagon and went up to the coloured. Laughing at that man¡¯s suffering, he patted the coloured¡¯s shoulder and wiped a tear from his eye. Grinning, he turned to see the perplexed gazes of the Boers that watched the strange scene unfold.

    ¡°Gentlemen, this is Mesuli Mankayi. He can trace his ancestry to the Xhosa. And he had recently undergone his initiation rite to adulthood.¡±

    ¡°Voetsek! You can come and do it as well! Once you do it, then maybe you won¡¯t be laughing at me!¡±

    Mesuli tried to slap Sjaak, but the pain from his groin hurt too much.

    ¡°My mother had to insist so that I can become a man! I should have listened to my father! Fok! It hurts! It fokken hurts! If she had a dick that she wouldn¡¯t say something like that!¡±

    A few men got it, but the rest could not comprehend the innuendo.

    ¡°So, the Xhosa ritual is circumcision, isn¡¯t it?¡± Jan grimaced.

    Sjaak snorted, ¡°Yup. It¡¯s called Ulwaluko. Sometimes, if the man is unlucky, the whole penis must be cut off. Consider it lucky we didn¡¯t get a traditional Xhosa practitioner and got a local doctor to do it instead.¡±

    ¡°My mother wanted to bring one Xhosa from the East to conduct it. But I¡¯m lucky my father persuaded her! Fok! She wanted me to lose my dick! That evil woman!¡±

    Mesuli stumbled away, swearing at his fate.

    ¡°Have fun! Be at least happy that you don¡¯t have to fast like the traditional Xhosa ritual! You could still eat or drink!¡± Sjaak chuckled. A middle finger was sent his way, but it was quickly put away as the pain in the groin became his main concern.

    ¡°Now then, where were we, gentlemen? Ahh, yes. So before taking up a Xhosa concubine or wife, be sure to think about the consequences of your actions. Are you ok with subjecting your descendants to be circumcised?¡±

    The Boers looked towards one another and imagined what if they had to be circumcised. It was unthinkable, and they thanked God that they weren¡¯t born Xhosa.

    ¡°So, what? Going to show us around Buysdorp?¡± Jan asked.

    Sjaak shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But no foreigners are allowed. Camp outside, and I¡¯ll make our preparations for a scouting expedition to the Zoutpansberg mountains. Originally, I was intending to have Mesuli bring you there, but due to his injured meatstick, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll have to get someone else to bring you up.¡±

    The Boers grumbled about the coldness they had to deal with after trekking for a couple of days through lands filled with Tswana, but the thought that gold was close to them filled their minds.

    A laager was formed, and a temporary camp was set right outside Buysdorp. From their laager, they could see coloured residents peeking through the windows, watching the newcomers camping outside.

    A couple of minutes later, Sjaak came by himself.

    ¡°I got no volunteers willing to escort you. I apologise. Most of them distrust you Boers, especially due to prior experiences. So, I will bring you up instead. Now, I can¡¯t bring you all, so get me around 5-6 men and we¡¯ll look at Zoutpansberg.¡±

    Naturally, all the men looked towards Commando Jan, who already picked the six.

    He had to go to confirm the sight with his own eyes.

    Veldkornets Pietje and Russell would have to be brought along, their appointed replacements shall manage the Boer camp in their stead.

    The last three were tough. And he didn¡¯t know who to pick with all the men leering at him. They all wanted a chance to see the gold with their own eyes. Looking at Sjaak scanning the Boer candidates, he decided to have their escort make the choice.

    ¡°Sjaak, you decide. What kind of men would be best to bring along?¡±

    ¡°You, for instance, would not be selected,¡± Sjaak slyly smirked. But he resumed his original expression, one of someone who is in deep analytical thought.

    ¡°But in all seriousness, I¡¯ll pick you,¡± Sjaak pointed at a lanky-looking Boer, before pointing to a stout-looking Boer and finally to a Boer who was fit.

    ¡°You three look like good candidates. Won¡¯t slow down our trek too much or seem to cause much trouble.¡±

    ¡°How do you evaluate one that seems to cause much trouble?¡± Jan asked.

    ¡°Depends on your facial expression. If I don¡¯t like your face, I know you¡¯ll be a troublemaker,¡± Sjaak shamelessly explained.

    The group of seven trekked through a hiking trail. They brought along sacks full of provisions. Each man had a canister filled with drinking water as well as some cans of canned food. Their guns slung behind their backs, swaying with every footstep they made.

    ¡°Zoutpansberg means Salt Pan Mountain in Elfrikaans. In the West, a Salt Pan can be found, and there is salt all over the ground. The locals harvested the salt from time to time, giving rise to its name. We do take the salt there as well since we lack access to merchants willing to travel this far.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Sjaak raised his hand, and the men stopped. He crouched down and urged the men to do the same. They shuffled to a ledge and peeked their heads over the ridge.

    A Boer settlement could be seen.

    Wooden huts were constructed at various parts of the river. Horses were tied to the huts. Most interesting of all was the fact that there was a distinct lack of women around. Everyone there was a man, and they held guns and watched each other movements closely. It is not as if females didn¡¯t exist, but they weren¡¯t human.

    Elves, female elves, were servicing the Boers'' every need. He watched as one of the elves entered a hut after a Boer command. The Boer watched the outside for a couple of seconds before slamming the door. They didn¡¯t come out for quite a while.

    Some of the elves were big-bellied. From their physique, one could tell it wasn¡¯t due to overeating or anything. They could easily identify where their ribcages start and end.

    By the river, stakes with rope were hammered onto the ground. By the end of the rope, was an elf, either male or female, panning gold on the Boer stead. They did not seem very happy labouring for their Boer masters.

    With one glance, Jan looked at the men with him.

    Russell, the upright man he was, stuck his tongue out in disgust.

    Pietje was appalled by the conditions of the elves since he had spent some time interacting with and getting to know them as Veldkornet of the Boer district.

    The other three newcomers watched the sight with glee. To them, it was likely something desirable. It seemed like the perfect lifestyle. Elf Harem and get gold without lifting a finger. Sounds like the dream of every man in his twenties looking to get Financial independence while retiring early, or FIRE for short.

    Those rosy dreams were shattered when they heard gunshots. A firefight started breaking out between two groups of Boers, and what seemed to be a Victorian version of a gang fight started to play out.

    It seemed it was not as rosy as the men envisioned. And their faces were filled with disappointment seeing the danger. Of course, as any investor will tell you, high risk, high reward. And well, why work for the gold, when you can take others? That is if you don¡¯t end up dead first from your victim¡¯s retaliation.

    ¡°As Potgieter said, a hellhole. While they seem divided, against a big threat, they will unify against them. And because they fight using guerrilla tactics, it¡¯s difficult to wipe them out. They¡¯ll flee using their horses, and when you least expect it and strike you down,¡± Sjaak clicked his tongue.

    ¡°Those elves. Are they Tswana?¡±

    Sjaak rolled his eyes.

    ¡°Honestly, there are so many cultures that it¡¯s hard to keep track of them. But I believe they are Venda elves. They are the founders of the great ancient Kingdom of Mapungubwe which existed in the 9<sup>th</sup> century. Seeing their sorry state today, it must be hard to believe that. But is true, everything has a rise and fall. Such as the Boers. When the Boers rise, someone must fall. But the Boers won¡¯t rise forever, they will fall,¡± Sjaak commented.

    ¡°So gentlemen, have a good look? Think they are easy to take over? We can work together and root them out.¡±

    Jan shook his head in confusion.

    ¡°You told me that it was difficult to get rid of them. Now you say that you could easily do so on our behalf, why is that?¡±

    ¡°Why indeed? Because I know some people who want those Boers out of their lands. I¡¯ll set up a meeting.¡±

    This is a fantasy world. The presence of staple fantasy races was to be expected. But he didn¡¯t expect to see them in a continent known as Elfrica. Just like the diverse wildlife of the continent couldn¡¯t be succinctly described with a word, his emotions couldn¡¯t be described when he saw the bread-and-butter race. The dwarf.

    Sjaak led them to a cave of some sort, and there were short, stocky men.

    ¡°Greetings, let me introduce you to the Lobedu people. They make their living through mining. They were once miners of the great Kingdom of Mapungubwe. But with its collapse, they decided to eke out their living. These are the ones living in Zoutpansberg.¡±

    A female-looking dwarf with the typical stocky dwarf stature paired with a headscarf obscuring her head was escorted to their little group.

    ¡°Rain Queen Maselekwane Modjadji, it is a pleasure to meet you,¡± Sjaak bowed.

    Modjadji bowed back with her delegation. And looking towards the Boers.

    She hissed upon studying them for quite some time.

    ¡°Why did you bring these troublemakers here? To see the suffering of those Vendu elves every day, do you make a mockery of my politeness?¡±

    Sjaak raised his hands.

    ¡°Queen Modjadji, the bothersome men and the men you see before you are different. They are helpers I have brought over to help get rid of those men. After all, the best persons to get rid of those pests would be themselves.¡±

    Jan frowned.

    ¡°Give me a lowdown of what has happened between all three of you.¡±

    Modjadji sighed.

    ¡°Some time ago, a couple of humans came by. We engaged in trade. However, they were most interested in the gold artworks that our artisans have created. We told them that it could be panned from the waters. Next thing we knew, some of them stayed behind while the rest trekked on.¡±

    ¡°Things were peaceful. They panned gold, while we minded our own business.¡±

    ¡°Next we knew, some of them demanded our gold else they will start attacking us.¡±

    ¡°Attack us they did and stormed our tunnels seeking to obtain the gold. These men did not have a good end. We collapsed the tunnels and made sure to dig a small gap in the surface. The men could their brethren screaming for help for weeks until they¡­ expired. It put an end to the conflict, but we are unable to leave our abode lest we are set upon by these white dogs. There are some secret entrances left, these are one of them. If the next attack comes from here, then Sjaak De Buys, you will also be considered an enemy,¡± Rain Queen Modjadji coldly explained, staring at the men, that looked like the white dogs she so described, right before her.

    ¡°They began using unorthodox tactics such as lighting fires in the tunnels. We had to go through the trouble of extinguishing them and digging another tunnel to allow the smoke to drift out. There¡¯s one thing I¡¯ll admit and that these men aren¡¯t stupid, they¡¯re trying all sorts of tactics to have us submit. But if you see the sights outside, then you should know it¡¯s better to die than submit to them.¡±

    Jan¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°You¡¯re the Rain Queen, right? So, are you able to make rain fall at a certain time? Or is the title a lie?¡±

    Modjadji glared at him.

    ¡°Insult my name once more and I¡¯ll ensure you can die as gloriously as your brethren outside. But this time, I¡¯ll show you why I¡¯m known as the rain queen. Have fun drowning.¡±

    Her eyes flickered to Boer who wasn¡¯t taking her seriously. Realizing that he was watched, he showed a serious expression to the dwarf.

    ¡°No offence. But a dwarf queen able to cause rain to fall is rather contradictory. Considering your closeness to the ground, this affinity to the sky makes little sense,¡± Jan complained.

    ¡°Most of our farming is done outside. Sunlight is hard to obtain in the underground, and we can only sustain ourselves through mushrooms. Mushrooms can be eaten by any dwarf, but they won¡¯t be able to support a large population. The yield per square acre that can be obtained by crops will always outperform the mushroom, which requires the environment to be a certain way to obtain the perfect mushroom.¡±

    ¡°And to me, your kind¡¯s hostility to us makes little sense. Your kind should have ended hostilities a long time ago. Because,¡± Modjadji bared her teeth, ¡°you won¡¯t win.¡±

    Jan should feel relieved about the inclusion of the dwarfs. But, he only felt much more suspicious. And he questioned why did Buysdorp and the dwarfs need them? If their capabilities were to be taken at face value, the two could have easily mopped the Boers up. The Rain Queen could force a battle only on a rainy day, when the Boers¡¯ guns are ineffective, and hand them a crushing defeat. It was highly unlikely Sjaak did not let the Rain Queen know of this fact before their partnership, so why was their group needed?

    That is¡­ unless they needed a convenient scapegoat to pin the blame on. After the previous incident between the trekkers and the dwarves, it was likely the dwarves would want to further isolate themselves. They wouldn¡¯t want to take credit for the victory over the Zoutpansberg Boers. The De Buys in Buysdorp would also rather live in peace. But now that Jan¡¯s group know of their presence, such a result was likely unobtainable.

    That is unless they were planning to have Jan¡¯s group claim credit for the victory over the Zoutpansberg Boers. And they¡¯ll assume due to their greed, they will naturally settle down in Zoutpansberg. The two other factions won¡¯t be able to live their peaceful life. What if Jan¡¯s group suddenly disappeared? It could be easily explained away, such as the trekking away or some other reason. They likely won¡¯t be missed. Then they can spin some tale about the curse of Zoutpansberg gold, like the rumours of gold spread amongst merchants.

    If this was true, it was chilling, to say the least. The intentions of non-human allies were always confusing, and he would rather deal with humans with their familiar human qualities.

    He turned to look at Sjaak who smiled in a friendly manner. Jan smiled back. The moment he looked away; his smile became a frown.

 Chapter 52: The Second Mfecane

    ¡°You came back so fast? Thought you had a plan to deal with Zoutpansberg. The De Buys were cosying up to you as well. No deal?¡± Potgieter served him a cup of tea, before leaning back onto his seat.

    ¡°What can I say? Seems too good to be true. I bet they offered the same to you. You didn¡¯t take it. You have much more experience dealing with them, so I believe it is best to trust your judgement,¡± Jan sipped his cup of tea.

    ¡°Lobedu dwarves. Descendants of Coenraad. These two working together could have easily mopped up the Boers in Zoutpansberg. The dwarves¡¯ Rain Queen could have easily made their weapons ineffective. Then, in hand-to-hand combat, the Boers would lose. So, it begets the question, why are they tolerant of their presence?¡±

    Potgieter leaned forward from his seat, intertwining his hands together on his desk. He looked towards Jan and listened to his next words.

    ¡°They must have thought of the Boers there as a buffer. A buffer against any outside threats. Whether it is Tswana, Mzilikazi or any other party, they¡¯ll think that the Boers are the only threats. But the true threats are these two, the Boers are a mask of deception. Let me make another guess. Any man who takes their deal ends up missing, correct?¡±

    Potgieter nodded.

    ¡°They are devils. Sly devils. The De Buys would cosy up to any newcomer seeking to obtain the gold from Zoutpansberg, then, they will be missing. I see it time and time again. I was the first one they asked. I believe they offer the same things to anyone who passes through. From my time here, I know I should not trust them. The local Tswana elves made sure of that.¡±

    Jan raised his head, gesturing to the man to get on with his tale.

    ¡°The local Tswana sangoma took one look at them and told me that they were untrustworthy. I did not believe her words at first but decided in the end to trust her. I suppose that¡¯s why I¡¯m still here today.¡±

    ¡°Why not get rid of them? They are a nuisance.¡±

    ¡°The question is how? Any attempt, and the De Buys would use the magic they gathered from all the elves in the continent to make combat difficult. The Lobedu dwarves could easily close off the tunnels into their hideout.  I don¡¯t think a siege would even work since they can dig a hole at the other side of the mountain and forage for food.¡±

    ¡°It is annoying that a couple of future settlers get killed by them from time to time. But I suppose it is a filter. The greedy get killed, whilst those who could remain calm amidst their greed stay alive. It is a reason that Potchefstroom rarely has conducted cattle raids against the Tswana.¡±

    ¡°Alright then, enough small talk. Tell me why you have summoned me today Potgieter? Couldn¡¯t you let a man rest after trekking from Zoutpansberg?¡±

    ¡°You will be interested. Your mind will be invigorated once I tell you this,¡± Potgieter placed a parchment onto the table.

    ¡°The Zulu fish has bitten the bait.¡±

    Sliding the parchment over the table, Jan caught the paper and turned to read it.

    Dear Potgieter,

    I am interested in the gold that you offer.  I am saddened that you were unable to procure a nugget as a sample in the letter you sent. So, let us have a meeting two days later at the midpoint of the trail between Pietermaritzburg and Potchefstroom.

    Yours sincerely,

    Cetshwayo kaMpande

    ¡°Any idea where the supposed midpoint between the two towns is? I have my guesses, but I would like to receive confirmation.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? It would have to be Van Reenen. Right by the outskirts of Natal. No doubt, they plan to hold a little expeditionary force to meet with the local Zulus in the Free States to see how much influence they could exert over them. But Potgieter, bring your best gold nuggets, and have a good negotiation.¡±

    ¡°Commando Jan, since you organized the meeting. You ought to come along. I believe negotiations would be much better with your presence. But I will prepare the best gold nuggets.¡±

    Right by the outskirts of Van Reenen, the Boers stood in a valley. Overlooking them, were a couple of hills. It was the perfect site for an ambush. But Jan was feeling lucky today, Zulus weren¡¯t in a vengeful mood. He doubted their whole party might be wiped. But just in case, they formed a laager and waited.

    A day passed, and a Zulu entourage showed up. The princess that was a teenager the last he saw her grew a little taller, no doubt due to the power of puberty. Nokuthula and her entourage were dressed in regalia meant for war. Huge cow shields were held by their sides, and their upper bodies were covered in cow tails. Their kilts were made from the skins of Elfrican wildlife. Most eye-catching of all is their headdress consisting of a browband and flaps of leopard skin framing their face. Multiple feathers were adorned on the headdress. The Princess¡¯ headdress was the most colourful followed by Nokuthula.

    Other Zulus came along in similar attire, but their headdress was much smaller. Behind them, were a couple of Zulu Impis, following behind their every step.

    ¡°Apologies for the large entourage, we were meeting with the local Zulu chiefs and decided to invite them along,¡± Cetshwayo explained, and Potgieter frowned. The man was feeling intimidated. Who didn¡¯t know of the Zulus and their fierceness in battle? Pretorius¡¯ victory over them was amazing considering how intimidating they could be with tens of thousands in their sights.

    Jan was sure their discussions weren¡¯t peaceful because the chiefs seemed very meek and followed behind Nokuthula¡¯s every command. No doubt they were cowed into submission.

    Retrieving a gold nugget from a pocket, he passed it to the Xhosa servant. The servant trembled upon seeing the fearsome sight. No doubt, they were the fearsome Zulu, and here are hundreds of them in his sight. The tales his family uttered about the disorder and chaos caused by Mfecane stirred in his mind.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    He took tiny baby steps, hoping not to agitate the Zulus in any way. Getting impatient, Nokuthula waved at the servant. The Xhosa broke into a dash and passed the nugget into her hands before dashing back into the safety of the laager.

    Some Boers laughed at the cowardly servant, but Jan knew that if he asked one of the men to do it in his stead, they were likely to piss themselves.

    Inspecting the nugget, Noktuhula handed it to Cetshwayo. The Princess, being the young teenager she was, let slip of her emotions and she studied the gold nugget intensely with glee.

    ¡°I polished them to make sure they''re real extra shiny. Added the Potgieter touch,¡± Potgieter whispered into Jan¡¯s ears, who rolled his eyes.

    ¡°I can secure your routes. But I want more than a gold nugget! I want an entire bar!¡± Princess Cetshwayo demanded.

    Nokuthula shook her head and took Cetshwayo to the side and the two discussed the matter further.

    The Zulu Chiefs looked towards the Boers and at their superiors. Unsure of what to do, they obediently stood on the spot.

    The two finished their quick discussions. Before they returned to face the Boers, Jan could see Nokuthula frowning. She glared at him before the Princess continue speaking.

    ¡°As I¡¯ve said. I wish for enough gold to make the bar of gold that I¡¯ve read in the numerous stories I hear. To facilitate the routes, I will establish my Great Palace in the Free States! But I expect the Boers to hold up the end of the deal. If the gold is not protected, we will ravish all your caravans. And we will make sure there are no survivors.¡±

    Potgieter frowned.

    They were extreme terms. If they failed to cough up, they will slaughter entire families, even the women and children.

    ¡°Jan Boddewijk, I will hold you and your family responsible for the deaths of anyone who is attacked by the Zulu along the route in the future. I hope that what you say is true, that the routes are as profitable as you espouse. For the sake of your soul, I hope so,¡± Potgieter looked toward Jan, before turning to face the Zulus.

    ¡°You must understand, a bar of gold a week is extremely unreasonable. You should know the rarity of gold. If it is so easy to obtain a bar of gold, then gold will not be as valuable as it is. The best I can give you is a bar a month. Any more than that, then your presence in the region would become inherently unprofitable to maintain any routes.¡±

    Cetshwayo looked towards Nokuthula who shook her head fervently. She pouted.

    ¡°You should know princess. We should focus on the royal court back in Natal instead of useless affairs like this. So what if you¡¯re able to obtain gold? Your younger sister, your mother¡¯s favourite, will be able to easily become the new Queen if we fail to contest her. We must not use up resources in such frivolous affairs!¡±

    Nokuthula said firmly in the Zulu language. She said it loudly, not bothering to whisper, considering the white men on the other side won¡¯t be able to understand her words anyway.

    ¡°You do not understand Nokuthula. We are talking about gold. A single gift of gold will win over the loyalty of any Zulu chief.¡±

    ¡°Gold is only temporary! Can the gold secure their loyalty? Weapons, armaments, gunpowder! This is what they constantly need. By constantly providing them, we will secure their loyalty.¡±

    ¡°Then is there any interpersonal relationship during our dealings? Are our dealings no different from that of a patron and an artist?¡±

    ¡°It might be the case, princess. But it is na?ve to think otherwise!¡±

    While the Zulus were discussing things without a care of the world, they seemed to have forgotten that the Boers brought along Xhosa servants. And they could somewhat comprehend the Zulu¡¯s words. The only issue was that they couldn¡¯t communicate.

    Well then, he wanted to know what they were discussing. The priority of servants¡¯ literacy went to the top. The education of Boers could come later, and they will complain about this shift in priorities. But he had to, no must know off what the Zulus were discussing.

    Nokuthula heaved a huge sigh, realizing that the stubborn girl refused to change her mind. It was her chance to strike out and make a mark on the world, and she planned to fully utilize this opportunity offered by the Boers. Plus, they were paid.

    She bared her teeth towards Jan, whose lips curled upwards upon seeing her frustration.

    Considering how opposed Nokuthula was, her anger was a good thing.

    The Zulu Chief felt like tearing the scheming Boer into shreds but then she remembered how she ruined the town¡¯s affairs. The chaos on the Boer side of Port Mpande was music to her ears. And reminiscing about how things were upside down allowed her to restrain her anger. This time, her lips curled upwards instead.

    Jan¡¯s lips curled downwards.

    Nokuthula made up her mind. The Boer side of town? Turn it into a complete matriarchy. Since they like to scheme so much, then let¡¯s see how he would feel knowing that he would become a second-class citizen in his town.

    Not wanting to let this be a verbal agreement, Potgieter looked towards the entourage of Potchefstroom Boers he brought along. They handed over the paper he asked for. Grabbing it, he left the safety of the laager and headed straight to the Zulu Princess. Signing his name on one end, he handed the pen to Cetshwayo, who signed the other end.

    Nokuthula grabbed the pen and signed as a witness for the Zulus. Jan stepped forth and signed as the witness of Potgieter. Potgieter and Cetshwayo looked towards one another, dreaming of future possibilities. Whilst Jan and Nokuthula dreamt of the future chaos brought about by their actions.

    Princess Cetshwayo''s entrance into the Free States was made with little fanfare. Some chiefs who were loyal to her were shifted into the region. There, they quickly made their presence known, subjugating all the surrounding Zulu chiefs under their sphere of influence. They gave every chief two options, submit or die.

    Many of the smaller Zulu tribes submitted, whilst the larger ones briefly resisted. But the use of gunpowder weapons decimated any resistance. The Zulu Buffalo Horns formation frequently used was quickly shattered by an artillery bombardment.

    Many of the Zulus were absorbed into her fold.

    The other elven tribes, caught in the crossfire, began migrating out of the region. The Zulus didn¡¯t target these tribes specifically, since according to Cetshwayo, they were here to establish Mpande¡¯s authority over all Zulus in the land. But the other elven tribes knew that they would also be subjugated soon after and began fleeing.

    The Sotho elves fled southwards, seeking the protection of Queen Moshoeshoe. The increased number of mouths to feed put a strain on Lesotho¡¯s food supply. The French missionaries in the region were all too happy to supplement the food, handing out food to all who were willing to listen to their teachings.

    Queen Moshoeshoe, no doubt enraged by the trouble inflicted upon her people due to the Zulus, denounced the Zulu¡¯s increasing presence in the Free States and warned them to not enter her territory.

    The others dispersed into the lands belonging to the Tswana elves, who saw these new migrants as competitors for the lands that they live on. Conflict broke out between the migrants and the Tswana. Many elves were subjugated and absorbed into Tswana tribes, where they were integrated into the Tswana way of life, losing all that made them culturally.

    Some went North, to modern-day Botswana, and were able to successfully carve out their lands in the region. The rest went to modern-day Zimbabwe, where they were absorbed into Mzilikazi and her Matabele.

    A coalition was formed by local eleven tribes and kingdoms against the Zulu aggression. Using her diplomatic prowess, Queen Moshoeshoe and some local Tswana polities decided to work together to stymy further Zulu invasion. She even clobbered together Xhosa chiefs, who knew how terrifying the Zulus could be.

    Historians would consider this event to be the second Mfecane. Although it was not as harsh as the first one initiated by Shaka Zulu, the fears of it possibly being as harsh as Shaka¡¯s or even worst than his conquests spread like wildfire.

    Queen Mzilikazi, once a lieutenant of Shaka, admired the rise of the new Princess upstart and saw her as a possible successor to Shaka. Considering the weakness of Dingane and the passivity of the Mpande, she was very much disappointed with how much the Zulu Kingdom had fallen from grace. She threw her support behind Princess Cetshwayo and said that if the coalition dared to take action against the Zulu upstart, she would ravage the Tswana lands.

    Modern Day, as written on a plaque in Matabeleland, Zimbabwe

    Although it was a nice story to tell for elves in modern-day Zimbabwe, historians believe that Mzilikazi only joined the Zulus because the Tswana elves were in the coalition. And she very much wanted to knock the detestable Tswana down a peg or two.

    Mpande, furious with the trouble her daughter caused, immediately reprimanded Princess Cetshwayo¡¯s actions and said that she did not influence her daughter¡¯s actions. Few believed her and consider Queen Mpande of the Zulus to be the prime instigator. As historians put it, how could a young teenage elf cause so much chaos?

    Although, there was a theory going around among historians that there was a certain Boer who had some part to play in the events. Many historians laugh at the theories cooked up by these historians dubbed Potgieterianism, believing Potgieter can''t have so much influence. If it had to be someone, then it must be Pretorius!

    Though there were the crackpots, who said that a certain Commando who bore witness to the signing of the agreement between the Zulus and Potgieter was the prime suspect. These historians were recommended to head to a mental asylum to get their heads checked.

 Chapter 53: Opium

    Queen Mzilikazi opened her eyes and was greeted with a strange environment. It was a room filled with numerous strange objects. There was a sturdy wooden desk with a leather seat placed behind it. Behind the seat contained bookshelves, and the walls were adorned with paintings. Red, red was plastered on the walls. On flags, on books, and in the choice of flowers. The motif of red was widespread. She admired the place and looked at the painting of an elf right behind the desk.

    It was an elf hailing from the Shona people that she had to fight while conquering the lands known as Zimbabwe, as the locals called it. Seeing no reason to not adopt the customs of the locals to better integrate them into her kingdom, she decided to call it Zimbabwe as well. She wore a suit, with a tie. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, and her short black hair barely reached her shoulders.

    She stared intensely back at Mzilikazi, who fumed upon seeing this Shona elf daring to send such a gaze upon her. She reached for a spear but found no spear by her side. Before she could go over and further inspect the painting, the door opened, and the woman in the painting showed herself.

    The woman took a couple of steps back in surprise, clutching her hands against the doorknob.

    Bellowing ¡°Who are you!¡± in a strange language that those who came from the sea used, she quickly closed the door. The sound of footsteps could be heard growing softer and softer.

    Mzilikazi thought of chasing after her but decided to further inspect the books. The situation was weird enough. The Shona did not speak like a Boer, so she could rule out any influence from the Boers. But the words she spoke reminded her of the words used by the missionaries who call them Scotsmen. English? Could it be? She shuddered and wondered if those missionaries are secretly funding Shona resistance to her rule.

    It seems she will have to crack down on the Shona, and further integrate them into her rule. She must let them know of their new masters under her and her Matabele.

    Picking up the book, she found a scythe and hammer crossing with one another. They were yellow, contrasting against the red book. She felt the texture of the book and admired the exquisite dyes that must have gone into such a book.

    The door creaked open. The elf was back, and she brought two men with her. They were pointing those weapons known as firearms right at her, but the designs were so wildly different from Boer weapons, that she wondered what exactly were they.

    Completely black, the elf held it using two hands, one supporting the weight of the front, while the other was rested against the trigger. A strange metallic device stuck out on the barrel, and the Shona soldier looked through it. She closed an eye while doing so, aiming it carefully at her.

    Mzilikazi snarled.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± She spoke in Zulu.

    The other elf freaked out and rapidly pointed at Mzilikazi. The soldiers pulled the triggers of their weapons, and let loose numerous rounds of lead into the Queen.

    Mzilikazi¡¯s eyes widened as she found multiple rounds coming out of those firearms. They were impossible! If she remembered correctly, those Boer weapons could only fire once at a time, but here they are firing multiple rounds a minute.

    She braced herself for the pain that is to come but the bullets phased past her.

    ¡°What is the meaning of this!¡± The elf demanded in her language. The soldiers continued unleashing every round they had from the rifles, but they all passed harmlessly through her.

    Gloating, Mzilikazi took a couple of steps toward the elf and looked down towards her. This Shona thought she could easily put her down, but she is wrong! She must especially reward her war doctors, for letting bullets leave her unharmed!

    ¡°I am Queen Mzilikazi of the Mthwakazi Kingdom. Who are you, Shona? Tell me your name so that I can end your life.¡±

    The elf paled and doubled back as the soldiers took positions before her. They were nervous. Watching their trusty weapons become useless before this elf was a nightmare to them. And the name she described herself with, could it be, the Ndebele people have summoned their great ruler in revenge?

    Regaining her confidence, the elf declared, ¡°I am Robert Mugabe of the Shona people. Do not trick me with your nonsense titles, Ndebele. I do not know what kind of sangoma you have looked towards for this power. But I will put you down like the rest of your people.¡±

    Once again, the elf, calling herself Robert Mugabe, spoke using the language of the foreigners. English. Mzilikazi confirmed the language the elf spoke. She did pick up some words from the Scottish missionaries, so she could somewhat understand Robert.

    ¡°It will be you who will perish, Mugabe,¡± Mzilikazi spoke in Zulu and lunged towards Robert who began fleeing her office. The soldiers tried to block her, but she easily knocked them against the walls of the room.

    ¡°Why are you running Mugabe? You said you wanted to put me down, I¡¯m coming to you!¡± Mzilikazi chased after Mugabe who yelled for help. They ran through the labyrinthine hallways and Mzilikazi naturally closed the gap. Her skirt allowed her to outrun whatever heavy attire Mugabe was wearing. Just about when she was about to grab onto Mugabe, she relished the fear in her prey¡¯s eyes. Before she could snap her neck, the next thing she knew, the face of her sangoma greeted her.

    ¡°That was a strange dream,¡± Mzilikazi remarked groggily, holding her head. Her sangoma helped her to the side, and she rested on her seat. She slowly recalled the contents of her dream and tried to decipher the wisdom her ancestors were showing her.

    A smile grew on her face.

    ¡°Any luck finding what you wish, Mzilikazi?¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Aye. Could you relay this to the chiefs? I want them to root through every Shona and find if anyone one of their names contains Robert or Mugabe. Afterwards, have them and their entire family summarily executed. That is the wisdom that our ancestors wished to impart.¡±

    The sangoma nodded in acknowledgement and left Queen Mzilikazi¡¯s tent, where she began pondering about the more important things.

    First of all, Princess Cetshwayo¡¯s establishment of a Great Palace has displaced a great many elves in the Free States. It brought some trouble to her, some of them fled to her lands and begged her for some land for their cattle. She had them absorbed into her army, finding them more useful against the Shona. The Shona outnumbered them 4 to 1, and she could always use more loyal men that would help administer the new territories.

    She was a little worried about the Princess¡¯ actions. Yes, she didn¡¯t mind that she established herself a little, the decline of the Zulu Kingdom that she hailed from greatly saddened her. But did she want it to reach the level that her old commander Shaka reached? No. She doubted that Mpande¡¯s descendants had much charisma or power of Shaka, but the risk was still there.

    Still, if she did expand. She could always encourage her to funnel her attention to the Tswana. They could focus on dealing with the meddlesome Tswana, and finally obtain her revenge against the Boers that defeated her with their weaponry.

    Potgieter sighed as the Tswana Chief complained about the influx of elves entering their lands. They hail from the newly conquered Zulu lands and were seeking pastures for their livestock to graze on. The Tswana Chief hoped to have Potgieter¡¯s continued support for their cause, and if the relationship was unamenable, he could come and help them evict the elves back to their original lands. Back under the Zulu maw.

    He glared at the Commando who sat by the side reading a book about the VOC.

    ¡°Commando Jan, I did warn you about the consequences. Now, there are a lot of eyes on our activities. The Xhosa, Tswana, and Sotho peoples have all been affected by the latest Zulu conquests. Let¡¯s not forget about the Zulu refugees who seek to escape the infighting. The blood is on your hands.¡±

    Slapping a folded piece of paper onto the page, he closed the book. Sitting up straight, Jan looked towards the Commando of Potchefstroom.

    ¡°Potgieter, you were the primary signatory of the document. If there were blood on my hands, then the blood on yours would have to be even greater.¡±

    Potgieter shook his head.

    ¡°Sooner or later. The Tswana are going to fight those refugees. So, what then? They go back to Zulu lands and become absorbed into Cetshwayo¡¯s domain, strengthening her power. That¡¯s not what I worry about though. I worry whether we could even pay her the exhortation fee as she sits right between Pietermaritzburg and Potchefstroom. She has obtained great leverage over all of us.¡±

    ¡°Give it a month or two once the Zulus complete their control of the region. I do not think there is anything to worry about. We could delay payment for a month or two. Use the time to build up trade between the two towns. We¡¯ll flood Zoutpansberg with goods that the Boers there want. And perhaps the dwarves may also desire. We will be able to obtain much gold that way.¡±

    Potgieter momentarily looked outwards his office window and sighed. Huts were being put up on his town¡¯s outskirts. Inside, were the refugees of Princess Cetshwayo¡¯s conquest.

    ¡°We have carried out untold suffering on these elves. Even on my allies, who wish no harm on us.¡±

    Potgieter let his words sink in, sitting back down on his seat.

    Jan bit his lip.

    Truly, what had he done? Hundreds to thousands were probably killed due to his actions. He needed some to guarantee the safety of the trade routes. What better bulldog than the Zulu themselves, but even he took some time to process the repercussions of his actions.

    He took a deep breath and ignored the refugees right by the outskirts of town. It was like reading a newspaper about people dying in an incident. One will feel sad for a few seconds, before moving on. And perhaps he should learn the prowess of the Americans, able to ignore the homeless and poverty-stricken sleeping in the streets, especially in California. This is all so; he could sleep better at night.

    When the Dutch first settled in Cape Town, they traded with the local Khoikhoi tribes. Some popular items were tobacco and alcohol. Vices that are still prevalent in modern society. The Khoikhoi grew addicted to these substances, and some, seeking to procure more of the addictive substance, worked in the fields of the VOC.

    Now clearly, Jan needed a way to get gold, lots of it. Industrialization needed to be funded. And the people with gold were the Zoutpansberg Boers and the Zoutpansberg Dwarves. The Zoutpansberg Boers had little gold since all their gold was obtained from panning gold, where the yields are pathetic. As pathetic as the performance of any gold mining company on the stock market. He wanted to kick himself for buying them, thinking they were cheap because they cost pennies, but their prices never went above a penny.

    The real money maker was the dwarves. And he planned to implement a tactic the old VOC used. Tobacco and Alcohol. But these will not suffice. He will need to claw immense amounts of gold. So, he would play the special drug that the Chinese loved, Opium. He saw no reason to not let loose this drug amongst the dwarves. It was good pain relief and would help ease the pain of miners while working in the mines.

    The consequences of smoking too much opium? Well, there were consequences for drinking too much. Plus, those dwarves planned to have him killed along with his men. A suitable punishment ought to be levied to show that Boers aren¡¯t people to be so easily bullied.

    Writing a note to his successors¡¯ running Port Mpande, he directed them to purchase opium from India. They were specifically ordered to not procure the goods from British merchants but from small-time merchants. He borrowed Potgieter¡¯s messenger once more and had him deliver the message.

    ¡°You asked to meet the men from Zoutpansberg. They are here today,¡± Potgieter explained, pointing at the door, where two men walked in.

    ¡°Potgieter, good to see you. I hope you have plenty of guns for us. We prepared the gold we¡¯ve panned at the same time,¡± One of them spoke in Elfrikaans, and Potgieter gestured to him to come closer.

    The man began placing gold nuggets on the table. Potgieter frowned.

    ¡°This is lesser compared to last month. Why?¡±

    ¡°Gold panning does not bring a constant stream of gold. The yield could increase or decrease depending on luck. However, there is still gold to be found.¡±

    Potgieter shrugged.

    ¡°Then the guns you receive will be lesser than that of last month as well. I won¡¯t budge on this.¡±

    ¡°Potgieter, the first time you set up shop here, we were rather generous with you. Why can¡¯t you extend that same generosity to us?¡±

    ¡°Generous? You all showed up with guns and told us to get lost when I trekked near Zoutpansberg. Do you call that generous? Might want to get your heads checked.¡±

    The two men stared at one another.

    The Boer looked down from his higher vantage point while standing, whilst Potgieter had to look up. In a contest of intimidation, the higher Boer would win, but Potgieter was not backing down.

    The Boer threw in the towel.

    ¡°Very well. Hand over the guns. We did not need much this time to resupply our stocks anyway.¡±

    Potgieter tapped his table before the men turned to leave.

    ¡°Before you go, let me introduce this young man over here. This is Commando Jan Boddewijk, and he has some matters he would like to discuss with you,¡± Potgieter pointed at the young man, who put his books away and stood up.

    The Boer nodded.

    ¡°What do you need Jan? Gold? If you want our gold, then provide something we want.¡±

    ¡°Just asking, but do you trade with the dwarves at Zoutpansberg? How about with Buysdorp?¡±

    ¡°Uh. We do trade with them from time to time. Those bastards don¡¯t offer much. But we do not know they have lots of gold. We tried to take it by ourselves. But it is impossible with the mountain as their fortress. Buysdorp does provide them with their crops as food, but there is nothing special about the half-elves that live there.¡±

    ¡°Have you tried selling the dwarves alcohol and tobacco?¡±

    ¡°Of course we did! But they took a sip and called our drink piss. We tried every kind of alcohol we could get our hands on. We even tried pushing the alcohol brewed by the elves. But they didn¡¯t want any of it. They claim that the alcohol they brew is much better than ours. When I wanted to try it, they wanted me to hand over all the gold I panned for the day. Fok! However, tobacco is a different matter. They did enjoy tobacco, but few purchased tobacco from us. Plus, there is not much we could ship, considering how cut off we are,¡±

    ¡°Well, gentlemen. I just have the perfect addictive substance for you. It is very famous in China. The Chinese love it. Especially for those who work as coolies ferrying goods off ships. They mix it with tobacco and smoke the mixture. The substance is known as opium, and it should be brought over to Potchefstroom in a couple of weeks,¡±

    ¡°How? A couple of weeks is very fast. How are you able to get such goods?¡±

    ¡°Well, my friends who live by Zoutpansberg, you¡¯ve missed out on important events that happened recently¡­¡±

    Jan began explaining the new trade route between Pietermaritzburg and Potchefstroom that was created due to his Zulu friends establishing them between the two towns.

 Chapter 54: Geographical Determinism

    ¡°Zoutpansberg is divided between different groups of Boers. We all want gold, but no one is willing to cooperate. Instead of sharing the pie, we rather shoot everyone else and take the pie,¡± The Boer explained.

    ¡°Still, that doesn¡¯t mean we won¡¯t work together at times. The elves there don¡¯t like us. So we got rid of them. They conducted numerous raids on our settlements. So we retaliated.  But that¡¯s not the most troubling affair. It¡¯s the Lobedu dwarves. When we first reached Zoutpansberg, we watched some of their people panning for gold. That¡¯s how we found out about the gold. They also have farms and fields right by the base of Zoutpansberg mountains.¡±

    ¡°We initially tried to cooperate and live side by side, but eventually, one faction splintered off and shot the dwarves. Then, it became a free for all as we seized whatever we could of their holdings by the mountains. The dwarves fled back into their mountains, and we chased after them, seeking to get their gold. The mountain is an impregnable fortress,¡± The Boer shook his head.

    ¡°Many men disappeared upon entering the tunnels. We could hear the tunnels collapse. And the screams. As loud as they were, begging for an end to their fate as they slowly withered away in the darkness. Most men perish in about 2 weeks. 2 weeks of suffering in the darkness,¡± The Boer shuddered.

    ¡°So, you decided to live with their presence close by?¡± Jan asked.

    ¡°Of course. What else can we do? Unless we can get enough gunpowder to blow the entire Zoutpansberg up, I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be able to dislodge them. But I know they have a lot of gold inside. The gold we panned is the leftovers.¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡±

    It was a nice way of describing their activities. Since no one would describe themselves as a villain, they would describe themselves as a hero instead. He wouldn¡¯t mind if these men got addicted to Opium as well, he could also claw the gold for their grasp.

    After some small talk, he bid the men goodbye and turned to face Potgieter who frowned.

    ¡°You bringing opium into Potchefstroom?  Why?¡±

    ¡°Opium is an excellent painkiller. Better than using alcohol.¡±

    ¡°But at least alcohol isn¡¯t as addictive as opium. Plus, those are British goods. It will do not well to have my men addicted to goods like that. I will not allow the consumption of opium in Potchefstroom.¡±

    Jan shrugged his shoulders.

    ¡°Suit yourself, but the opium is not for your men.¡±

    On the outskirts of Potchefstroom, Jan sipped a cup of sour milk along with his Zulu counterpart.

    ¡°How goes the exertion of Zulu power in the Free States?¡±

    ¡°Most of the chiefs have already fallen under us. We subjugated most of the biggest chiefs in the region. The rest all ran away. Still have the San to deal with. They are putting up endless resistance in the bushes,¡± Nokuthula explained, this time decked out in Western wear. From far away, one would think she was a Boer man, but closer up and they will think she is one of those half-elves. Only when they are right beside her, they would find out her true nature.

    ¡°So, where¡¯s your princess¡¯ Great Palace?¡±

    Nokuthula smirked.

    ¡°If I tell you, what will you do with that information, Boer? Plus, you will be unable to get near without getting killed. So, please explain why you¡¯ve decided to have us come out here and settle these lands?¡±

    ¡°It is as we¡¯ve discussed. We needed someone to secure the route between Pietermaritzburg and Potchefstroom. Considering our past working relationship, I believe that you¡¯re a trustworthy bunch. There is no reason to break the agreement since you have put your eggs in this basket. We are on the same boat, Nokuthula. Your princess already put in this much effort, surely, they¡¯ll want to reap the rewards.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are planning. But I do know that you are taking advantage of the princess¡¯ youth and naivety to have her do something that wouldn¡¯t benefit her. There is nothing to gain out here, but there is everything to be gained back in Natal.¡±

    Jan tilted his head to the side.

    ¡°Instead of crowding back in Natal, you¡¯ll now have more pastures for your chiefs here in the highveld. They will be more loyal to you. You have also reasserted the kingdom¡¯s influence in the region. Surely, Queen Mpande must have rewarded your group. I don¡¯t see how my deal has harmed you.¡±

    Nokuthula¡¯s lips curled up.

    ¡°It¡¯s a very funny joke you speak. Queen Mpande instead reprimanded the princess for her rash actions. Whilst we have influence, we also gain more enemies. The Tswana, Xhosa, and Sotho peoples all disdain our reach in the region. And let us not mention you Boers, for you¡¯ll not be pleased to have us so close to your settlements. There are benefits in the short term but in the future? I feel that you¡¯re playing in the long game. What is your aim?¡±

    Looking at the endless grasslands of the highveld, he spotted a couple of Zulu with their cattle grazing on the grass in the near distance.

    ¡°There is no long-term aim. I am only a simple farmer.¡±

    ¡°Really? If you were, then you lack the small of shit around your body. Nevermind, I found the shit. It¡¯s in your words.¡±

    The establishment of the trade routes was an exciting prospect for all Boers. Along the routes, would be a safe spot for towns and farms to be established. He doubted the Zulus would oppose their presence. Of course, they must be reasonable in their land grab, but he doubted any Boer would dare to settle right in the Princess¡¯ Great Palace.

    He was discussing with Potgieter about the goods they would be excellent for trading.

    ¡°The De Buys live right by Zoutpansberg, and as the name implies, it is full of salt. We do trade for their salt, which is rather cheap. I think this would be a good export. There are also Ivory and animal skins from the local Tswana. However, we need guns. A lot of them. I would also like some artillery pieces. For that, I can provide gold. But I want a better deal than what the British merchants offer.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Jan nodded.

    It would be a waste to dump all that gold into buying weapons. He would dump his stockpile of weaponry in Potgieter¡¯s hands and use that gold to fuel the creation of industry.

    First were the cultivators and their gun stores. He was going to reorganize them into workshops where they use assembly line methods. Cultivators would become the managers of these factories and would oversee the workers working. Each worker would work on a small component, instead of a cultivator crafting an entire gun by themselves. This way, things would be done faster. Sure, the cultivators would complain, but will they complain once their pay allows them to enjoy the standards of living afforded by the Upper and middle classes?

    Not all of them would comply because the old ways must be upheld or some nonsense. But for the upstarts, they would take up such a comfy job.

    The two discussed further on trade.

    Bang! A man shoved the door and ran to Potgieter¡¯s desk. Slamming a piece of parchment on the desk, he uttered in Elfrikaans, ¡°Letter from Andries Pretorius of the Natalia Republic.¡±

    Potgieter reached for the parchment and began skimming through it. Verifying the sender, he passed it to Jan.

    ¡°Tell me, what do you think I should reply to your boss? I¡¯m sure you should know how to please this man.¡±

    Dear Hendrik Potgieter,

    I do not know what kind of deal you made with the Zulus. But I now know that many of them are massing in the Free States. The Zulu chiefs that I have discussed with said they¡¯ll be migrating over there, and have no ill intentions, but how can I think otherwise?

    For instance, the Natalia Republic is now boxed in with Zulu from the West, Zulu in the North, and Xhosa in the South. Tell me Potgieter, what are your intentions?

    Yours sincerely,

    Andries Pretorius

    Jan clicked his tongue. Right, he forgot about how Pretorius would perceive it. Unlike Potgieter, he did not have a buffer of Tswana elves to protect the Republic. The first ones to be attacked would be Boers, and they¡¯ll have nowhere to flee. The only option was Port Natal, but then, in that event, the Republic would be destroyed.

    ¡°You know, there is no way to frame this well. Unless the Tswana are interested in migrating to Natalia to serve as a buffer?¡±

    ¡°Pff¡­ I doubt they would do so. Some of their clans did migrate to that region. But the Zulus make them flee back here or into Botswana.¡±

    ¡°Then the best would be the truth, tell Pretorius that we¡¯re creating a trade route between Potchefstroom and Pietermaritzburg. The Zulus would be facilitators in ensuring the route would be safe. The best reassurance we could give is to offer to sponsor a fort by Van Reenen. The Drakensburg is impossible for the Zulus to get over. And if they do try it like Hannibal, they would take massive losses in attrition.¡±

    Potgieter shook his head.

    ¡°That might solve the attack vector from the Free States, but the Zulus won¡¯t be so foolish to attack through there. They won¡¯t be able to use their superior numbers. It¡¯s the Zulu Kingdom in the North. But since you installed Queen Mpande on the throne, I doubt she is unlikely to act. The most worrisome thing is the Zulus using modern weaponry.¡±

    Potgieter paused, thinking about his next words.

    ¡°Some Tswana chiefs have scouted the initial battles of subjugation. And the use of artillery and firearms is most distressing. The Tswana chiefs have harangued me endlessly to obtain such weapons. But still, these make up a small number of their forces. Most of it still adopts Shaka¡¯s Buffalo Horns formation.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the chance, I think. Pretorius just doesn¡¯t like being boxed in. The easy way to remedy this is to either create a buffer or obtain more land,¡± Jan explained.

    ¡°Then you only have three avenues of expansion, Xhosa, Zulu or British. The only one that makes sense is to the South in Xhosa lands. But the bush is hell to fight in. Anyway, the Zulus won¡¯t mind if the Boers settle along the route from Pietermaritzburg to Potchefstroom. If I were them, why would I? It¡¯ll just mean I¡¯ll have to spend less effort to guard the route.¡±

    ¡°In that case, Pretorius won¡¯t be boxed in. And with the Boer settlements along the route, any Zulu attack will allow news to quickly spread to both of our towns. I will help in the event of an elven attack. Like this, it won¡¯t be Pretorius who would be boxed. It would the elves who would be pincered by both of us.¡±

    Jan thought about it. The more he thought about Potgieter¡¯s words, the more it makes sense. At first glance, Pretorius was boxed in. But if the Zulus attack, Potgieter and his Tswana allies could flush them out of the Free States with some of Pretorius¡¯ commandoes attacking from the other side of the Drakensburg mountains. Then they could group up and smash the Zulu Kingdom into pieces.

    ¡°The best reassurance would be the fort at Van Reenen. Mind sponsoring some of the cost since you made the Zulus come over here?¡±

    ¡°You were the one who talked me into signing the agreement. Why can¡¯t you sponsor some of the cost?¡± Potgieter complained.

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one who lives by literal gold mines.¡±

    ¡°Eh, you know what. It¡¯s best to discuss this with Pretorius face to face. I¡¯ll be heading to Pietermaritzburg. It¡¯s way too impersonal with a letter. Tell me when you¡¯re leaving, and I¡¯ll join up with my men.¡±

    With nothing much left to do in Potchefstroom, all Jan could do was wait around for the plans he set in motion to take place. He decided to head back to Port Mpande and check the progress of the town.

    The only issue he pondered while sitting in the wagon was the payment of his men. They were a little grouchy and wanted some compensation for coming along with him. Cattle or gold. There were only two options for cattle, Zulu or Tswana. Or, to which tribe would he like to die? Then for gold, it was Lobedu dwarves or Zoutpansberg Boers. Again, which faction would he like to die to?

    Explaining that to his men was easy, but he hoped to secure some rewards for these men, the farmers who have a frosty relationship with him. He didn¡¯t think they would take credit. Then again, he didn¡¯t think they felt like dying while trying to become rich. So, he dropped the matter and hoped for their understanding. If his plans go well, well he could flood them with gold. No, it was a horrible idea, think about the horrendous inflation that would subsume the town soon after¡­

    Their cavalry force was doubled from 20 horses to 40. Potgieter rode alongside his men. There were some troubles in cooperation between Pietje and Potgieter. But Pietje decided to let Potgieter take the lead. Potgieter was an experienced veteran who bested Mzilikazi, who was Pietje next to him?

    With such a famous man alongside his retinue, he decided to let Potgieter take charge. After all, Jan doubted he held much sway amongst his men with Potgieter around. If they gave opposing commands, 10 times out of 10, his men would follow Potgieter¡¯s orders.

    The Tswana elves tracked them as they left Potchefstroom. Once they realized it was Potgieter riding off, they left their group unmolested. Past the Tswana buffer, were the new lands ruled by the Zulu. With conflict still ongoing in the bush against the San as well as the lack of announcements by both Potgieter and Pretorius, no one dared to travel along the trail.

    A Zulu scouting party spotted the group right as Potgieter¡¯s Flight Commandoes spotted the Zulus as well. The flight commandoes doubled back and looked towards Potgieter for further instructions. He ordered to leave them the Zulus alone. A Zulu left the scouting party whilst the rest followed the wagon watching their every move.

    ¡°Since the gold hasn¡¯t been handed over, I suppose Princess what¡¯s-her-name could order them to attack us,¡± Potgieter rode abreast of Jan¡¯s wagon.

    ¡°We got Hendrik Potgieter with us. There is nothing to fear,¡± Jan smirked.

    ¡°Wish I could say the same,¡± Potgieter broke off from Jan¡¯s wagon as memories of his failures during the conflict against Queen Dingane replayed in his mind.

    They travelled for quite some time and took a break for the oxen and horses to rest. The shrubbery around them had Jan worried. It was like a Schrodinger cat. There might be a threat behind that bush or not. And he¡¯ll only know if he looked inside. But he¡¯ll only know at that certain time that bush is safe. Who knew what could come into the bush a few minutes later, making that bush unsafe.

    He dispatched the Xhosa servants to scout around the bush since they were more reliable in this sort of affair than the Boers under his command.

    It was supposed to be a simple break.

    But when the shouts of a Xhosa rang out, he heard the shouts slowly die down. Every man looked towards the bush that Xhosa disappeared in. Next thing they knew, all of the Xhosas started bolting out of the bushes they scouted in.

    ¡°San!¡±, They hollered in their tongue.

    The Xhosa he kept his eyes on suddenly had an arrow lodged into his back, and the Xhosa collapsed onto the ground, squirming from the arrow.

    It is unlikely a normal arrow could realistically cause a man to squirm this desperately. It must be poison.

    ¡°That is some powerful poison, taking effect so quickly,¡± Potgieter remarked before leaping for cover under the wagons.

 Chapter 55: San

    The San are said to be some of the earliest peoples in Elfirca. Descendent from the first inhabitants in Botswana and South Elfrica, they were a nomadic people. Hunter-gatherers would move from one place to another once they depleted the resources in an area.

    When the Bantus from Central Elfrica migrated to South Elfrica, they encountered the San who were very different from them. This period was known as the Bantu expansion. They are the ancestors of the Baganda people of Uganda, Shona of the Zimbabwe, Zulu and Xhosa of South Elfrica. When the Bantus first encountered the San, they found other elves that looked different from them. And in these foreign lands, they submitted to the wisdom of the San. The San became the Shanman of various ceremonies and rites.

    But relationships could not be summarized in a simple sentence. Sometimes they made love with one another, other times they fought with one another. Still, the San are unique. For they are hunter-gatherers. They do not farm. They do not own cattle. They live off the land.

    Most prominent about the peoples are the use of poison in their weaponry. Diamphotoxin is secreted by the Diamphidia beetle. It is haemolytic, which ruptures red blood cells. It is also cardiotoxic and will damage the heart.

    It allows small ions to pass through red blood cell membranes easily, disrupting the cell¡¯s ion levels. This causes catastrophic failure, resulting in the death of the red blood cell. Although it does not harm the nerves, it will reduce the number of red blood cells by as much as 75%. Any prey would be fatigued by the lack of red blood cells due to the anaemia.  This was how the San hunt. And this is how they¡¯re able to take out large mammals, which will easily collapse from even a small dose.

    If an antelope collapsed from such an arrow, now imagine a human or an elf being struck by such an arrow.

    All of the men instantly took cover under the wagons as the San fired arrows as the Xhosa still tried to flee.

    ¡°Fok! Why did we have to be attacked by the bushmen!¡± Pietje grumbled as he hid under the wagon.

    ¡°They must have mistaken us for the Xhosa as for Zulu!¡± Russell commented.

    Now, Jan didn¡¯t want all the Xhosas to perish. The Boers were all under the safety of their laagers, and the San would naturally use their arrows on easier targets. That meant total extermination of the Xhosas that he deployed outside. It¡¯s not like he didn¡¯t mind if they perished, but sticking his head out meant a fatal arrow.

    Worst of all was the future of Xhosa relations. If all the men you hired died, then what did it say about you? It was likely the Xhosa would see him as just another Boer who saw the Xhosa as disposable tools. It was unlikely he would be obtaining any future labourers from them.

    The only way to guarantee his safety is if every man got out from their hidey holes and open fire at the San all at the same time. To buy some time for the Xhosa to get into the laager. He doubted the San would dare to intrude upon the laager. Their bands number in the tens to hundreds. One will not be able to support a large population by relying on solely living off the land.

    ¡°Gentlemen, are you all to cower beneath your wagons and hope for the bushmen to go away? Fokken get your firearms and open fire at them!¡± Potgieter hollered, and the men got to work.

    They grabbed their firearms and from their numerous positions, whether it be under the wagon or behind the wagon¡¯s wheels, they pointed into the bush and opened fire.

    Boom! The cacophony of gunfire with the smoke raising gave away all their positions. And the arrows came right after striking some men down. Those arrows were likely fatal, and any man struck is likely dead, so Jan ignored the wounded.

    Potgieter bashed his fist against the wagon in anger while reloading his musket.

    The bush is hell to fight as Potgieter had once said. First of all, you can¡¯t see your enemy, but they can see you. If they had a large retinue of elves, he would have them swarm the bush and sniff the San out. But these Boers wouldn¡¯t dare to go and get themselves impaled on a spear or be shot dead by an arrow.

    All they could do is hunker down and hoped that the San would leave them alone.

    Jan also bashed his fist against the ground. This is no good.

    The ace he had in his hands was the artillery, but if the shot does not hit the San, that''s what use was the artillery. But what if he didn¡¯t need to hit the San?

    He only needed to scare them off. And like the Boers, the elves were also deeply religious. Perhaps he could trick them into thinking the gods were descending or whatnot. But the San must have dealt with artillery before, the Zulus¡¯ casual usage in the Free States made sure of that.

    One artillery piece would not do, but how about all of them? If all of them were fired at the same time, it might be loud enough to trick them into a route. It would make them think the sky is collapsing on them.

    ¡°Potgieter, any plans?¡± Jan decided to ask Potgieter as they cowered under the wagons. The arrows stopped falling, but any sudden movements would be watched.

    ¡°All I got is waiting. Unless any of your men are willing to search through the bush.¡±

    ¡°Then, let¡¯s use the artillery I have to scare them off. We¡¯ll fire blanks.¡±

    ¡°I disagree, fire them with their ammunition. It would create an impact, such as the shredding of vegetation if we use buckshot. Then perhaps we would be able to find them and fire at them. Or, we might get lucky and shred them.¡±

    Potgieter barked orders to the men cowering in the wagons to retrieve the artillery from inside the wagons and have them shifted out of the wagon.

    The men dutifully did so. They poked their heads out of the wagon, and finding no more approaching fire, they slowly lugged it towards the ground. On the ground, they filled it with shot and gunpowder and pointed at the surrounding bush.

    13 cannons from 13 artillery wagons. Since their laager was in a circle, two artillery pieces were placed in the north and south. Four artillery pieces were put in the east and west, respectively. The spare was allocated to the north on a whim.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Potgieter was observing the bodies of the Xhosa and imagining where the angles of the arrows came from. Watching the arrow stuck out the Xhosa''s back, he concluded the San must have shot behind the elf. But there was no telling whether the bushman repositioned. It was likely they did so as any good sniper did, so the enemy would not be able to retaliate.

    Since no arrows were coming, did they use all of them? Or were all the easy targets taken out, and they were waiting for the bigger fish to swim over to them?

    ¡°Cannons loaded!¡± The Boer yelled before hiding back in his hiding spot.

    Covering his ears, the brave cannoneers fired buckshot in the bush around them. Vegetation was shredded right before their eyes. It was accompanied by the scream of strangers. The Boers grabbed their muskets and pointed in the direction of the yells, and they found a shredded San salad.

    The San had a fellow hunter right by his comrade''s side, checking his comrade¡¯s wounds. Those with quick hands pointed at the hunter and opened fire, gunning him down. Avenging the Boers and Xhosa who perished, the men reloaded their muskets and waited for another target to come out.

    5 minutes passed, and no one came.

    One by one, they came out of their hiding holes and checked for danger. No San arrows came, and no one was impaled by a spear.

    ¡°It seems they left,¡± Potgieter remarked, looking at the dead Xhosas and Boers that were piled up the respective Boers.

    ¡°Whew, I survived,¡± Pietje remarked, before looking at his dead comrades with dismay.

    Russell walked over to the remains of the two San. One was full of bullet holes, the other had its body shredded by the cannon¡¯s buckshot.

    ¡°Lesson learnt. Next time when travelling through the bush, bring lots of elves to scout the bush,¡± Jan remarked.

    ¡°Better yet. Don¡¯t even get near the bush,¡± Potgieter added.

    Multiple graves were dug up. One grave was allocated to a dead Boer. About 8 men perished in the ambush. 3 dead Xhosas, and 5 Boers.

    The Boers focused on the comrades, whilst the Xhosa talked to their dead comrades. They lugged their corpses onto the wagons.

    One of them came up to him.

    With very broken Elfrikaans, he requested, ¡°I wish to bring them back to their home.¡±

    Deciding to appease the Xhosa, he acceded to the request. The men would have to deal with a dead Xhosa on the wagon with them, but they should get used to it.

    Worst of all, was that he had nothing to offer to the families of the dead. What can he offer? As the Commando, he was responsible for their deaths. If they had obtained gold or many cattle during their trip then he wouldn¡¯t feel so empty, but they¡¯ve practically obtained nothing. All they¡¯ve obtained were plans in action, but would such things appease the families?

    He held his head in his hands, unsure of what to do.

    Potgieter, seeing the distress his junior faced, came over and patted Jan¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I see a great many men die during our treks. Even if we¡¯re willing to be amicable, the elves aren¡¯t and would have us killed. Had to fight many battles like that. We¡¯re not like Pretorius, you know? That man seldom gets anyone killed in his battles, it''s absurdly ridiculous, and it makes me jealous. Just know that it¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    Jan nodded, took a deep breath, and took a scan of the situation. No point lingering any further, better get a move on before some other party sought to have them killed.

    Movement from the bushes sent the men on high alert, and they pointed their firearms back at the bush. A firearm peeked through the bush, causing most men¡¯s fingers to hover over their triggers.

    A whole Zulu Impi party came out of the bush, and they looked at the Boers that heavily outnumbered them in firepower. Then they looked at the dead and the graves marking them.

    ¡°Uhmm¡­ sorry?¡± The leader of the party apologized to Elfrikaans.

    Even though their communication in Elfrikaans was poor, there were still Xhosa servants alive, so Jan sent them to communicate with the Zulus.

    Since the Xhosa spent some time with them, they could pick up the simple lingo the men used. But it was still limited, so he watched the Xhosa gesture about trying to further explain in Elfrikaans. At some point, the Xhosa gave up and started speaking in its tongue, and the clicks that made no sense to him dribbled out.

    He looked towards Potgieter who also shrugged.

    ¡°If you ask me, it''s kind of obvious what happened,¡± Russell explained, pointing at the Zulu Impi before pointing at the dead San, ¡°They were tracking the small group of San in the bush. The San were forced over to us and attacked us,¡±

    Jan looked over the Zulus, who were inspecting the dead San. It seemed like just cause to demand compensation. If they could obtain some cattle, he could compensate the families of the dead. But did he want to ruin their relationship over some dead cattle?

    ¡°Forget it. We were ill-equipped to deal with the San, we should not seek others to blame for our mistakes,¡± Jan concluded, and they left the Zulus alone and continued trekking.

    After a couple of days of trekking and the Drakensburg mountains were in sight. They were leaving the highveld by the small valley at Van Reenen. Jan sat by the Xhosa driver and watched the mountains. When he told Potgieter that the Zulus might try a Hannibal and cross the mountains to circumvent Van Reenen, he meant it as a joke. But if they could do so, then fortifying Van Reenen would be pointless. Worst of all, was that they would wreak havoc on Natal from two fronts.

    He watched the numerous trails around Drakensburg and realized the likelihood of them crossing the mountains was possible. If they were human, then it would be impossible. But they were elves with sangoma and war doctors who could supercharge their physiques to do the impossible.

    Just one fort would not do, they were going to need multiple. The only way to do so was to have Boers settle by the Drakensburg at the Free States-Natal border. It looks like he would have to discuss with Pretorius the new townships that have to be created.

    Potgieter was also watching the mountains. And realized that simple fortifications that would stop a human army will not do against an elven army. He grimaced knowing how he was responsible for giving him more trouble to Pretorius.

    At long last, they stopped at Pietermaritzburg, a bustling town filled with families fleeing the Eastern Cape. The Sixth Frontier Wars with the Xhosa showed the Boers that they could not rely on the useless British for protection by the frontier, so they all left in droves.

    Their wagon party was not an outlier, since there were big families who bunched up and came to Pietermaritzburg. They were all here to pay respects to the Voortrekker leader Andries Pretorius before deciding to settle somewhere in the region.

    Pretorius was discussing with a trekker group about this when Potgieter knocked on Pretorius¡¯ door.

    Apologizing to the trekker for the disruption, Pretorius got out of his seat to open the door. And he saw the man who gave him a headache for the past few weeks.

    ¡°Hello, Pretorius,¡± Potgieter sheepishly greeted.

    Pretorius bit his lip, and dismissed the trekker leader from his office, saying that he had more important things to discuss.

    ¡°Could you please enlighten me on how you got the Zulus in the Free States?¡± Pretorius demanded, trying to erase any tinge of frustration from his tone.

    Grabbing the copy of the agreement he signed with the Zulus, Potgieter presented it to Pretorius. Scanning through the agreement, the furrows in his brows deepened.

    ¡°All this just to get a trade route between both of our towns?¡±

    Potgieter shrugged.

    ¡°Not exactly that. Families could settle along the route, so we just got safe land to settle. As well as a safe route between both our towns.¡±

    ¡°Then what about the Zulus?¡±

    Potgieter smirked.

    ¡°You think they will dare to fight against you after the Battle of Blood River? You must think too lowly of yourself. Even with 15 thousand to 30 thousand men, they were unable to defeat your small band consisting of hundreds. Any Zulu would fear your name.¡±

    ¡°A victory like that can¡¯t be replicated time and time again. They will improvise, and adapt to our ways of fighting. If we had to fight like that a second time, I¡¯m not sure of our victory.¡±

    ¡°But this time, you don¡¯t only have hundreds. You have thousands settling in your Republic. I have hundreds too. Even if the Zulus adapt to our way of fighting, we do have our allies. The coalition by the Sotho Queen Moshoeshoe, Tswana and Xhosa against the Zulu would support us against any Zulu aggression. I am sure of this because I have been assured by my Tswana allies.¡±

    A commotion racked the town as men and women had their eyes stolen by the approaching army. Officers wearing broad-topped shakoes with short red shell jackets rode on horses of the English Charger breed. Behind them were the Corps of Cape Mounted Riflemen (CMR) who were all Khoikhoi riding English horses as well. Each man was equipped with a sword and carbine.

    Potgieter peeked out of the window and whistled.

    ¡°Looks like trouble.¡±

 Chapter 56: Cape Mounted Riflemen

    Captain Smith¡¯s orders were simple. Investigate the going-ons of the Boers and why exactly trade in Port Natal has fallen. He checked the accounts of Boer traders, and none of them closed their accounts. They did engage in trade, although limited.

    As the bank manager in Port Natal explained while flipping through the pages, the number of trades the Boer fell month by month. Somehow, they were able to source these goods from other parties.

    With nothing left to dig from Port Natal, and with merchants generally uncooperative, he rode off with his officers along with the Khoikhoi Cape Mounted Riflemen (CMR). The local farmers did not like the presence of the CMR, since they were all Khoikhoi with guns. And Captain Smith only knew how poorly treated the Khoikhoi were with the poor labour conditions on Boer farms in the Eastern Cape, so many of them signed up in droves to join the British army.

    His superiors were only too relieved to have them moved away from the local settlements, at least they would receive fewer complaints about the scary Khoikhoi with guns.

    Thus, these men were some of the most loyal and bravest men he had ever fought with. If he had to give orders to either a Khoikhoi or a British soldier, he would pick Khoikhoi any day.

    He examined his soldiers¡¯ expressions as they rode towards Pietermaritzburg. It was a settlement full of the detestable Boers that had enslaved many of them back in Cape Colony. It was only when the British came over to ban slavery that many men became free. But they were no different from serfs, who had to labour on their master¡¯s land for sustenance.

    And here they think they could restart their lives here? Then they were sorrily mistaken.

    Captain Smith barked out orders to his officers, who would repeat them to their Khoikhoi soldiers. Do not spark an engagement with the local Boers. God knows what would happen to him with their small force of around 50, the rest left in Port Natal, trapped in Pietermaritzburg. Most important of all was the likely chance his superiors would have him dismissed.

    The first thing he felt as he reached the outskirts was that he was extremely unwelcome. Those farmers were reaching for their guns watching the British force intrude upon their sovereignty. No doubt they were more afraid of the Khoikhoi taking revenge for past injustices. But his men could restrain themselves, those who can¡¯t already left.

    Pietermaritzburg was a developing town, but he could see shit plastered on the ground everywhere. Farms were worked by either Boer, Zulu or Xhosa hands. All of them sent suspicious gazes to the British troops. The most vitriolic hate he could glean was from the Xhosas who looked at him as if he was cowshit. He almost felt like shooting that Xhosa to teach him a lesson, but he focused on his mission.

    Men on their Cape horses could be seen in the distance, and they rode towards their party. Raising his hand, he and his mounted infantry stopped and waited for the men to catch up to their positions.

    Standing about 10 metres apart from one another, the two parties looked towards one another.

    One of them spoke up in English, ¡°Hello Captain, I did not expect to see you here. Do you know that you¡¯re violating our sovereignty?¡±

    Captain Smith¡¯s lips curled up, ¡°That¡¯s what you insist. But the British traders all tell me that you wish to be treated as fellow British citizens, so I think I will do just that.¡±

    ¡°Governor Napier was supportive of our Republic, so what you¡¯re doing is going against his wishes. Are you sure you wish to continue this?¡±

    Smith snorted.

    ¡°You Boers trekked wherever you wished, entering elven territory, and leaving as if you owned the place. Yet when I try to do the same, you say I violate your sovereignty? I have a task from Governor Napier, and unless you wish for the might of the British Empire to fall upon your necks, I suggest getting out of my way. Where is Andries Wilhelmus Jacobus Pretorius? Bring him to me.¡±

    Another young man started speaking up.

    ¡°What might? The Napoleonic wars are over. And your citizenry is displeased with the bloated military. Garrisons are being downsized across the world. So, tell me, are you sure the British army can keep the Cape Colony?¡±

    Captain Smith frowned. He studied the young wiry man. He did not look like any of the farmers who spent years working in the fields. And he was also knowledgeable about home affairs.

    ¡°I can assure you, whatever we mobilize in the Cape and overwhelm your forces. You have what? Around a couple of Commandoes? We can mobilize hundreds. And our Khoikhoi troops you see? This is only a mere drop in the bucket. Let¡¯s not talk about the troops all over the world that will be deployed in the Cape if you dare to start another conflict. What happened to Queen Hintsa of the Xhosa can be repeated.¡±

    Captain Smith gloated.

    Jan frowned. That man was bluffing. The British government during this period has no appetite for total war since they were too busy paying off the debts incurred during the Napoleonic wars. If not, they could have easily conquered the Xhosa and dispossessed them during the Sixth Frontier War.

    Pretorius rode over with Potgieter and stoically looked over the small British force.

    ¡°I am Andries Pretorius, how can I help you, Captain?¡±

    The Captain looked over the Boer leader, who was dressed exquisitely for the occasion. Unlike the rest of the Boers, he wore a suit and a cattleman hat. By his side, he held his gun with his left arm while the right held onto the reigns of his Cape Horse. His chin was cleanly shaven, unlike his upper lip where a small brush has grown.

    ¡°The Governor sends his regards, Pretorius. We are curious about the decrease in trade flowing between Port Natal. He¡¯ll like to know if you need any assistance here in Natal. It¡¯s not due to troubles involving the local elves, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course, captain. All is fine. I can assure of you that. It¡¯s just that we procured everything we need from Port Natal. For example guns, I don¡¯t suppose that is something that needs to be bought every month or two, don¡¯t you agree?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°I see. Well then, do you mind accommodating us? I will be spending some time in your little Republic so that I can write up a report to the governor. I wish for no trouble; the Xhosa are already a handful to deal with.¡±

    ¡°That can be arranged. But the bill will be sent to your superiors.¡±

    The small Khoikhoi garrison in Pietermaritzburg had most of the townspeople spooked. These are elves with guns. What¡¯s stopping them from turning them against the townsfolk? Rumours began spreading abound that the British are here to ravage their wives with the Khoikhoi. Thus, many decided to stay at home with a gun close by.

    Pretorius tapped on his desk.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose they have any designs on the Republic?¡±

    Potgieter shook his head.

    ¡°They need all their men to garrison the Eastern Cape from the Xhosa. If they annex the Natalia Republic, they¡¯ll have to garrison this from the Zulu. And it won¡¯t be a small garrison. With the Zulus North and West, if they wish to hold onto this territory, they will need a sizeable garrison.¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s nothing I can do. We¡¯ll adopt a wait-and-see approach.¡±

    Pretorius turned to look at Potgieter.

    ¡°Potgieter, apologies for the disruption caused by the British intrusion. So, why do you want to see me in person?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about the trade route. You see for both of us to use it effectively, we¡¯ll need to both announce it at the same time. So I¡¯m would like to discuss how we¡¯ll be handling the announcements.¡±

    ¡°Un.¡±

    It was a short discussion. They decided to set a date and time to announce the establishment of the new safe route between Potchefstroom and Pietermaritzburg. They pushed it to a week from now due to the troubles the British garrison brought.

    ¡°Well then, I guess that¡¯s all. Hope no troubles come about,¡± Potgieter bid his rival goodbye and rode back to Potchefstroom. He didn¡¯t want to linger to see the faces he knew back in Natal, the same ones who accused him of Commando Uys'' death.

    Port Mpande, how should he put it¡­ They were only here to grab some cattle so the Xhosa servants could be dismissed but¡­

    As the men sat in their wagons or rode back to the port, they cannot help but see their wives prancing about with firearms all around the town.

    Pietje was most shocked when his wife, Janneke, greeted him with an entourage of women. They all had guns in their hands.

    ¡°How have things been?¡± Jan asked, poking his head through the interior of the wagon.

    ¡°All fine. The opium shipment should be coming in a week or so. Traded with an Indian merchant, promised to be discreet,¡± Janneke explained as one of the women handed over the documents regarding the deal made.

    Jan took the parchment and eyeballed it before handing it back.

    ¡°One thing I notice¡­ is that most of the men are missing. Where are the bureaucrats?¡±

    They handed over another document.

    He eyeballed it once more. This time he scanned it carefully once he saw the word ¡®suffrage¡¯.

    Men and Women have the right to vote.

    ¡°You know what this means right? It means you will have to also accept the responsibility of defending this town in a Commando.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Janneke concurred.

    He shrugged. Well, it was one of the things he wanted to be done and dusted with. He didn¡¯t care how it was done, one less burden off his chest.

    Fortunately, they were cooperative in handing over power once they realized Jan had no intentions of stripping away Women¡¯s Suffrage.

    Russell got his position as Head of Administration.

    Pietje got his position as Head of the Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie.

    Somehow, news spread around fast that they were back. As he was finding some way to compensate his men for the expedition, a lot of them flooded into his office.

    ¡°Commando Jan, we demand the removal of Women¡¯s Suffrage. It is against the book,¡± A man spoke up holding his bible.

    ¡°It is a sin. Men have their roles in society. Women have their roles in society. A woman cannot do a man¡¯s role,¡± Sarel¡¯s pastor of the Dutch Church concluded.

    Jan clicked his tongue.

    If he insisted on keeping this, those men would have him lynched. A bright idea came to his head once more. Hey¡­ women can vote, right?

    ¡°Very well, we¡¯ll hold a referendum to see if we should keep it,¡± Jan proposed, and all the men were lost for words.

    But before dealing with that, he focused on compensation. Now, before Potgieter left, he handed over some gold nuggets so that he could procure goods to send over to Potchefstroom.

    It would be unfair to not compensate the men for coming along with him. So, he set aside a couple of gold nuggets for the procurement of cattle for the Xhosa servants and for every man that came along with him. For each Boer that perished on the trip, he would give their families a gold nugget so that they could live the rest of their lives well. The same offer does not extend to the dead Xhosa families, but he decided to hand their families more cattle to compensate for their loss.

    This way, the Xhosa would know they would be rewarded if they do good work, and they will develop a good working relationship for the foreseeable future.

    Writing up some documents, he handed them to Pietje for him to carry out the cattle procurement since he handled the cooperative.

    Writing up more documents, he handed Russell a couple of gold nuggets as well as orders to hand them to their families.

    Breathing in, he thought about whether he should personally go to inform the families of their loss. He didn¡¯t want to do it, but he had to.

    ¡°I will come along. Give me a couple of minutes.¡±

    Finally, the referendum on Women¡¯s Suffrage. Now, since every man and woman got to vote, if things went as intended it would be a 50-50 split. However, not every woman would support this measure. With women¡¯s suffrage, they would be expected to serve in Commando groups if need be.

    However, who says that only Boers had to vote? This is a referendum regarding Port Mpande affairs. Shouldn¡¯t the Zulu have a say in it?

    He grinned as he realized what the results would be. What will the men say then? Will they cry foul since the elves were involved in the voting? Or will they accept the results? He doubted they would pack up and leave without their wives. Because according to their books, it is sinful.

    With women now politically active, he could use this new faction to crush any dissidents. But he also knew that while this new faction was a tool, he could very easily cut himself with it. What¡¯s stopping this new faction from going above and beyond and imposing a matriarchy based on what the elves are doing? So, he cannot suppress the traditionalist faction too hard if only to keep the women¡¯s faction in check.

    Cracking his knuckles, he hid the document under his desk away from prying eyes and went with Russell.

    He didn¡¯t want to do it. Opening the door, where the wives or the children ask where their father went. Or he could say that he was sorry and tell them a story of they died heroically fighting against the elves. Dropping a gold nugget in their wives¡¯ hands, telling them to ensure that their children will grow out well again and again.

    It was a painful thought, and he rather not repeat this. But what about the elves he and his group slaughtered? How did their families feel?

    There was one way to rid himself of that guilt. They are savages, irredeemable savages that need the cleansing touch of Western civilisation. Aye, that was what most of the colonisers think, but that was the easy way out.

    It¡¯s kill or be killed. This isn¡¯t the modern world. This was the Victorian age, an age of genocide. Age of imperialism. An age of colonization. An age of nationalism. Some of the nastiest things were conducted in this age which makes up many of our national identities in the modern world. The clash of the working and capitalist classes. The clash of liberalism and monarchies of old. The clash of cultural and ethnic identities.

    And it¡¯s not like he didn¡¯t have blood on his hands. Getting the Zulus into the Free States killed thousands who were peacefully living after Shaka¡¯s Mfecane. Many were displaced, becoming refugees in foreign lands, against foreign tribes who assimilated them. What would you call a person who did in the modern world? A war criminal. What would you call a person who did this in the Victorian age? A hero. It¡¯s a joke.

    It was just that most of it were done in the Victorian game he used to play, abstracted with numbers. Where he committed wars just for the glory of the nation he playing. Millions dead because he wanted more land for his nation. But after all, that, could he abstract everything away to that of a simple game?

    Maybe, his modern thinking needs to be changed and adapted to the current environment. Yes, he would push for the liberal reforms that would strengthen his town, but for those that would weaken it, he would have them hammered down.

    He is a Boer now. His priority is the Boers under his command. His second priority is to ensure those Boers are safe with all the elves around him, and that means cooperation. His third priority was the eviction of the British from South Elfrica to prevent the annexation of the Natalia Republic. And what better opportunity than the Seventh Frontier War with the Xhosa?

 Chapter 57: Joint-Venture

    The recent political participation of women left a bad taste in many traditionalists¡¯ tastes. For these men and their sons, they sought for more¡­ agreeable women.

    There were not only Boer women in this town after all. There were the elves. For Lodewijk Crone, who was looking for a mate, the options were unlimited. The nearest was either the Zulus or Xhosa. If he wanted to cast a wider net, there were also the Tswana or the Sotho.

    Like any man from a developed country looking for a mate, they went to the local mail-order bride or matchmaker. Strangely enough, it was orchestrated by a woman, not just any woman, but a Zulu.

    The matchmaker looked at the Lodewijk and knew there would be few takers for this man. The tastes he divulged to her were not something the local elves could fulfil. Elves were a matriarchal society, but he wanted women who were the opposite of that, akin to human society.

    ¡°I know some strange woman that might interest you,¡± The matchmaker offered and flipped through numerous documents. Finding the one she was looking for, she handed it to Lodewijk.

    Caroline Ellison

    I am only interested in a poly relationship. Something like Imperial Chinese Harem.

    None of the non-hierarchical bullshit. Everyone¡¯s partners should be ranked. And there will be vicious higher struggles in the higher ranks.

    I¡¯m masochistic. So, I like doing things hard, unpleasant, physically taxing or emotionally painful

    Partner: Sam Bankman-Fried

    Are you interested?

    Lodewijk only baulked at this document and looked towards the Zulu matchmaker.

    ¡°It¡¯s what you want. I believe she is a good choice,¡± The matchmaker looked away. Even she believed the candidate is unhinged in some way or another.

    ¡°What is this poly thing she is asking for?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a¡­ it took some time for me to understand too but it¡¯s a consensual relationship between all partners.¡±

    ¡°So, I have to share her with this¡­ Sam Bankman-Fried?¡±

    The matchmaker kept silent, not wanting to discuss the issue anymore.

    ¡°Of course, yes. No, I mean of course not!¡± Lodewijk thought about it carefully. It sounded like something sinful even if he was partially interested.

    ¡°Well, I have little takers for this woman. So if you change your mind, you can come to me and we can discuss the matter further. Anyhow, how about this?¡±

    The Zulu picked up another document that was randomly selected and handed it to Lodewijk.

    ¡°All I know is her name and that she is a Xhosa. Is that all?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all she was willing to divulge. If you ask me, keep it between us, don¡¯t tell her! But she is a little embarrassed about seeking my services.¡±

    Lodewijk shrugged. Well, what could go wrong?

    A simple dining establishment by the Boer side of town. It was all that was arranged by the matchmaker. He had to pay for everything of course since as the matchmaker put it, the males using her service far outnumber the women. She accepted payment in either cattle or pound sterling. Since he wasn¡¯t a farmer and lived in the urban areas of town, he handed over good old pound sterling.

    It seems the staff was briefed or familiar with the proceedings for he was quickly escorted. One thing he noticed about the clientele, was that it was full of Boer men like him. They were all dining with elven women.

    He was brought to his seat and on the other side was his date. She wore the umbhaco, a long skirt and an apron sown together with embroidery. Beaded necklaces known as ithumbu wrapped around her neck. She was pouting at Lodewijk¡¯s sight.

    ¡°So¡­ are you,¡± Lodewijk checked the placard he was given, ¡°Athandwa?¡±

    He instinctively smiled, feeling he had butchered the name somewhat.

    Athandwa frowned and asked in poor Elfrikaans, ¡°Tell me about yourself.¡±

    It was as if she was reading off a script of some sort.

    Lodewijk got flashbacks of the trauma he had interviewing at various merchants in the Port. For some reason, they all asked the same question! The English merchants paid well, so he interviewed there. There was even an acronym for the top-paying companies the English merchants belonged to called MAANG.

    ¡°I am a simple man who works for Meta Trading Companies, I make uhh¡­ around 500-pound sterlings a year.¡±

    It took some time for the Xhosa girl to register his wounds. She started counting her fingers. 500-pound sterling was a lot of money. She began thinking about the number of cattle one can buy with that kind of money.

    She then asked a strange question in English, ¡°Have you cut your dick off?¡±

    Now it was Lodewijk¡¯s turn to register her words. The seriousness in her gaze greatly intimidated him.

    ¡°Uhm¡­ of course not! Why would I cut my dick off?¡± Lodewijk replied in English.

    ¡°Then, you¡¯re still a child,¡± Athandwa frowned once more.

    The date did not go well, and Lodewijk could only complain to the Zulu matchmaker about the strange woman he was matched with.

    ¡°She asked if I had cut my dick off in English? What the hell!¡± He explained to the matchmaker who only broke out in laughter.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Wiping a tear off her eye, the Zulu explained, ¡°The male Xhosas undergo an adult initiation rite known as Ulwaluko where their foreskin gets cut off. Most Xhosa women would prefer that their mates undergo this as well.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ I need to get my dick cut off?¡±

    The Zulu slammed her fist against the table.

    ¡°Your foreskin! The thin layer of skin of your penis! Our Zulu men once had to do so until Great Queen Shaka banned it! So be grateful that most Zulu women won¡¯t mind if it is not cut!¡±

    ¡°Oh. So do you think I should cut it?¡±

    ¡°That is up to you to decide. I don¡¯t give a shit about your foreskin.¡±

    Lodewijk decided to book another session with another woman. Crossing his fingers, he hoped it goes well.

    The Indian merchant was a man from Ceylon. The Indian walked up to him and shook his hand.

    ¡°You¡¯re the Boer who runs the port? Thanks for ordering through me instead of the East India Company (EIC),¡± The Ceylonese thanked him in English.

    ¡°I doubt the EIC would be able to fulfil such a small order, so I should thank you instead,¡± A couple of Indians that were part of the Ceylonese merchant crew carried the cargo off the ship.

    He handed the merchant a small pouch full of pound sterlings, obtained by exchanging the gold nuggets for pound sterlings in the bank at Port Natal. The pound sterling was pegged to gold, which was why the bank was very helpful in facilitating this exchange.

    Jan bit his lip and wondered whether he should tell this Sri Lankan about what was on his mind.

    ¡°Here is some advice. You should not trust a man whose surname is Rajapaksa.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a fortune teller? How do you do your fortunes? We use parrots back in India.¡±

    Jan shrugged and kept mum. How should he explain it to this man? Eh, doesn¡¯t matter, he doubted it would change much.

    ¡°I suppose every man has his secrets.¡±

    Opening the crate, he could smell the familiar smell of swimming pools, ammonia. It was not exactly ammonia, but it smelled like it. He looked around him to see Boer bureaucrats, both men and women by his side, as well as his two trusty Veldkornets looking at the crate with curiosity.

    ¡°This is opium. Mix it with tobacco and it will be a good smoke. Be warned, it is crazily addictive. I forbid its usage recreationally. Only doctors or medicine men are allowed its use in this town. But this shipment isn¡¯t for this town; it will be heading right for Potchefstroom. Let¡¯s hope the Zulus keep their word. Well, if they do touch this shipment, it¡¯s not my fault if their Impi gets addicted to it.¡±

    With the assistance of Russell to manage the trade route, he hired some Boers to ship the shipment to Potchefstroom. Instead of an ox, the wagon will use the Cape Horse to ensure it will get there as quickly as it could. Jan wanted to know the results of his little initiative as fast as he could. He needed the gold from the Zoutpansberg. So many plans were bottlenecked because of the lack of funds.

    He even wrote up a letter for Potgieter to help explain to him what the man needed to help him with. It was simple, sell it to the Zoutpansberg Boers. Let the traders give it a whiff. If they like it, they¡¯ll buy it with their gold.

    When it¡¯s in Zoutpansberg, some of them would trade with the dwarves in the mountains, causing some opium to end up there. Hopefully, the dwarves would get addicted to it too. Once both of them get addicted to it, then they can maintain a constant trade route between Potchefstroom and Port Mpande, dumping opium into Zoutpansberg and getting tons of gold for it.

    Some might say what he is doing is immoral. Well, no one questioned the British when it did its Opium Wars.

    And if they could get this up and running, well, he was going to dedicate some lands to growing Opium to feed the new addicts cultivated in Zoutpansberg. And once the addicts are weakened, then Potgieter could also expand his influence and settle in Zoutpansberg so he could directly secure the gold. At that time, they could directly dump the opium on the Lobedu dwarves.

    But the land was limited, so it needed to be expanded. That was why he was in Nokuthula¡¯s new office.

    Incorporating the Boer¡¯s multi-storied town hall design, it was integrated with plants growing around the structure. They both beautify and reinforce the building¡¯s interior. It could be all just a simple sales pitch by her, but the building¡¯s exterior was beautiful.

    The interior was barren, but she explained that they were still working on it.

    Sitting by her desk, he looked at the Zulu, dressed in Zulu attire. She wore Zulu regimental regalia, and her headdress was filled with colourful feathers.

    ¡°How goes the fight in the Free States?¡±

    ¡°The San are a nuisance, but we had them finally leaving our lands. A couple or two still do hit-and-runs from time to time. But we will eradicate them.¡±

    ¡°Uh, that¡¯s good. Since most of the Princess¡¯ loyal chiefs went over to the Free State with her, a lot of Zulu lands now lack people, right? I had proposed this once before, so let me ask once more. Would you be interested in opening the land for surveying? Our land surveyors believe there are a great many resources to be found.¡±

    ¡°Since there is scant Zulu in the area, I don¡¯t see why not. What offer would you make for mining rights?¡±

    ¡°How to discuss mining rights without discussing whether there are any minerals in the regions?¡±

    ¡°You should pay for the gracious opportunity to survey our lands. You would be the first to do so, so I expect a good offer.¡±

    ¡°The land might have nothing. Will I receive a refund then?¡±

    ¡°If I lose my bet while gambling, will I get a refund?¡±

    The Zulu wasn¡¯t willing to budge. She wanted concessions.

    Jan decided it would be best to concede with her. It would be good to have her be amiable. Because it won¡¯t be Boer labourers working in the mines, it will be Zulu ones.

    ¡°How about this? We split the profits of any mine. A Joint-Venture like Port Mpande. 50-50 split of all profits. We¡¯ll each have a say in the mines¡¯ operations. If we don¡¯t like it, the mine won¡¯t operate.¡±

    Nokuthula chuckled.

    ¡°What a horrible offer. We own the land and yet you wish for equal profit-sharing. That does not make any sense to me. 99% of profits shall go to us, 1% shall go to you.¡±

    ¡°Without land surveyors coming in. Without mining experts coming in. Are you sure you¡¯ll be able to even open a mine successfully? I urge you to reconsider your offer. Because we won¡¯t be able to do business if you¡¯re stubborn.¡±

    Jan took a second to realize the irony of his role. He was no different from a Western MNC going to an African country to invest in their mines. And the way he negotiates isn¡¯t too different. The Western MNCs provide skilled labourers to ensure the mine runs smoothly, while the country collects a fat share by sitting around doing nothing. Their workers would be employed in the mines too.

    ¡°90-10.¡±

    The Zulu just wasn¡¯t willing to budge. Then again, he wasn¡¯t providing much. He wasn¡¯t a renowned Western MNC with numerous years of expertise in mining. Any mining activities will be done with basic open pit mining with little machinery, and every worker slowly hacking away at the stone.

    ¡°Come on. Please give a better offer. 60-40? We¡¯ll be starting a Joint-Venture sharing all the minerals in the land. At least make the deal good enough so we Boers can remain invested in this venture.¡±

    Nokuthula frowned, grumbling about the greed of the Boers.

    ¡°Final offer. 70-30. Take it or leave it.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡±

    They began drafting a document formalizing the creation of the Zulu-Boer Joint Venture for the exploitation of minerals in Princess Cetshwayo and her supportive chiefs¡¯ lands. First of all, they needed to come up with a good name, but Jan couldn¡¯t think of a good name that would sound good. Debswana of the Joint Venture between Botswana and the diamond cartel De Beers was a good name.

    But how could he mix Boer and Zulu so that it would sound good?  BoeZulu? ZuluBoe? BoZulu?

    When he asked Nokuthula about her thoughts on the matter, she simply said, ¡°Just call it Cetshwayo. I still must ask the princess for permission. I¡¯m sure she will give her approval once she knows it is named after her.¡±

    With no reason to oppose the naming convention, the Cetshwayo Company Limited, or simply Cetshwayo.

    Even though he disliked the unequal Joint-Venture, he could always increase his share in the future. A couple of cattle and pound starlings would help boost his share. But he didn¡¯t think there would be much. If they found gold, then he would start dumping all his funds to secure as large of a share as possible.

    The German rats, the ones in charge of running the coal mines were all too pleased when with the news.

    Bastian Hanneke, owner of Ratfrica Mining Co, which specialized in land surveying rubbed his hands in glee.

    ¡°There¡¯s a motherload of coal in the region. I know London is hungry for coal. We could export them to London.¡±

    ¡°If zere is no demand, at ze very least, you could replace wood with coal,¡± Eilert Biermann, owner of German Mining Co, added on.

    ¡°We¡¯ll still try to figure out an arrangement with our Zulu counterparts. So, I recommend packing up and preparing your men for an expedition. Keep your men in check, and do not cause any offence to your Zulu hosts. I do not wish to start a conflict over something as trivial as this.¡±

    The rats nodded in agreement, their tails swaying from side to side.

    Checking it off on his to-do list, Jan scanned the endless rows of things he had to do. Now, there was still the matter of the referendum. He planned to gerrymander the result to his liking. By right, since the matter of Women¡¯s Suffrage only affected the Boer side of town, only Boers should vote on the matter. On principle. But nothing was stopping him from expanding the number of eligible voters. Of course, he had to be reasonable in his justification. He can¡¯t allow children to vote. His men would be suspicious to find the gifts of candy a few days before the referendum.

    Port Mpande was a joint venture between Zulu and Boer. So, he had plenty of reasons to give to include the Zulus. By gerrymandering the referendum to include Zulus, he would win with a landslide.

    He took some time to reflect on how Africanised he had become. Was he going to rig every referendum and election in the future?

 Chapter 58: Gunpowder

    Jan didn¡¯t need to do anything complicated to organise the referendum. Since there was no seat to contest or anything of that sort, he only had to win by voting share. There was no need to redraw electoral boundaries or such or to even define them.

    There were two ways he obtains the votes. Gather everyone together and have everyone raise their hands in support of the motion. Or set up polling stations in various parts of the town. The former sounded like a logistical nightmare. Even if they were able to gather everyone, business would halt to a stop in the port. He didn¡¯t want any disruption to economic activities.

    The latter was decided upon easily. Compulsory or voluntary voting? If he made it compulsory, the motion would have more legitimacy. But making it voluntary only made those who felt strongly about the matter to come vote. That meant the radicals from both the traditionalist and feminist parties would come out. But those who sat on the fence wouldn¡¯t give a damn.

    He doubted he had as much influence as the Voortrekker leaders Potgieter and Pretorius, so he left it as voluntary. Even if he made it compulsory, he wouldn¡¯t be able to enforce it.

    Now the last part. Where should the polling stations go?

    His first thought was the gathering spots of the town. The only places were the Church. But the only people who would go there to cast their votes would likely oppose this motion. He scratched the Church out of the list of possible locations.

    The first one would have to be the Port to prevent any disruption of activities. Dockworkers could come and cast their votes quickly.

    The second one would have to be the town hall right in the centre of town, to enable easy access.

    The third one must cater to rural farmers.

    Like every nation divided politically between the rural and urban classes, Jan was expecting many of the rural Boers to vote against it. So, he was not going to allocate them a polling station in the rural districts. If they want to vote, they must come to the town. This would remove many of those rural farmers who would vote against it because their friends and families told them so, whilst leaving those who felt strongly about the matter. They are farmers, they won¡¯t give two shits about politics. They only care whether their crops grow well and whether their cattle are healthy.

    Anyway, with these plans in place, he could see himself winning. But he wanted to be sure of it. The elves were the most important part of the plan.

    He was going to add two polling stations in the Zulu districts. The locations can be decided by the Zulus. He didn¡¯t care. It was likely the Zulu chiefs would make everyone vote in support, since they for some reason are supportive of Women¡¯s Suffrage. And he didn¡¯t care if the Zulus enforced secret ballots, or they dispatched someone in the cubicle watching the voter vote.

    By some freak incident that the votes didn¡¯t support his motion, he could easily exclude the Zulu ballots by saying that this matter concerns the Boer side of town. If it gave him a majority, he would include it and obtain victory. The Boers might complain, but the majority wins. Legitimately, so it was unlikely his bureaucrats would resign due to the loss of trust.

    He assigned the matter to the Englishman Russell who helped him rig the previous referendum. He would provide the discretion he needs. It would be held in a week or so to give time for announcements to be made, and arrangements to be discussed with Zulu chiefs.

    In a quaint meeting room of the Smith¡¯s Gun Store Sect, Jan was making small talk with the Sect Leader who was appropriately named Smith. Their Khoikhoi elf apprentice handed over some cups of tea to the both.

    Sect Leader Smith sniffed the tea, nodding in approval to its scent.

    Blowing on the hot tea, Jan sipped as well.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll get into business. I need guns, and I need a lot of them. The production methods you cultivators use are not enough. I need more guns in a shorter amount of time.¡±

    Smith grunted.

    ¡°What do you propose outsider? What do you know about making guns?¡±

    ¡°I know that our Boer guns are all flintlock, which is severely outdated. The British government is converting most of their firearms to percussion locks using percussion caps. One of the key advantages it provides is that the shooter will be able to fire in the rain.¡±

    Smith nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s true. We have many orders requesting their guns to be switched from flintlock to percussion caps. But it''s hard to get our hands on them, the British government is buying up the last one of them to complete their transition. Once they¡¯re done, we should be able to get our hands on them. The Black Market does have them on sale but at extremely high prices.¡±

    ¡°But there is no need to source percussion caps from the British. I¡¯ve heard that the French have some local production. Even the Americans have started manufacturing them.¡±

    ¡°It is as I¡¯ve said. Most of these Western armies are transitioning their flintlock guns into percussion lock, it''s hard to get our hands on them.¡±

    ¡°The design is patented right?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Jan smirked.

    ¡°Then I¡¯m sure you have some counterfeited ones. Any successful prototypes to show?¡±

    ¡°We are still working on it. I¡¯m trying my best to reach the percussion cap realm. I need more time to cultivate this.¡±

    Hmm¡­ A Sect Leader needed to both manage his or her sect as well as focus on increasing their power level. What if he had them focus solely on reaching the next realm whilst he handled the administration for them? Why does it also sound like a university professor trying to research while dealing with bratty university students?

    Jan placed a gold nugget onto Smith¡¯s desk, making him baulk at the shiny gold object.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°This is what you will receive every month if you do as I say. From now on, focus on your cultivation. The administration of your sect shall be handled by us. If you ask me, it is a good deal. Don¡¯t you cultivators want to defy the heavens? Here is your opportunity to focus on doing that. But, I will require your assistance in training a couple of my men in gunsmithing.¡±

    The cultivator began laughing.

    ¡°Gunsmithing is not something as easy as A-B-C. It will require months, and years to get a man to be able to make a gun.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not interested in getting a man to smith a gun. I only need a man to work on a small component of the gun. What I will be proposing is not a new way or novel way of manufacturing. It is something our ancestors have done, the logical next step. For example, in a kitchen, does a chef prepare the entire dish by themselves? No, their assistants prepare the meat, spice the meat, and cook the meat. What does the chef do then? They put it all together. This is what you will do. You will be the chef. It is known as the assembly line manufacturing process.¡±

    ¡°Interesting, but what if I refuse?¡±

    Jan shrugged.

    ¡°There is always another cultivator down the road. I don¡¯t care how many rejections I face; someone will accept. You will be able to live a good life. Do you see the English merchants with their clothes of numerous dyes? You can wear something like that. Or you could wear an ostentatious suit paired with a splendid top hat like a British aristocrat. I don¡¯t care. So, are you interested?¡±

    ¡°Why not? I have nothing to lose.¡±

    He gave the same offers to all the gunsmiths around Pietermaritzburg and poached over numerous Sect Leaders to come to Port Mpande to set up shop. Pretorius might be annoyed with this talent acquisition, but it is not as if he is poaching everyone. And the Port was still in his sphere of influence. Even if the gunsmiths moved shop, all the guns will eventually lead to him.

    Jan wanted a large facility. During their war to assert their independence against the British, it was likely the British navy would blockade them. He will not be able to rely on merchants for guns. Thus, he needed to mass-produce them. He needed enough for every Boer in the Republic. He needed enough to equip every Xhosa with a firearm. And he will also need another production line for artillery pieces.

    Boer workers will not only do this, and he was going to have to supplement it with Zulu labourers. There was the threat of these workers going back home to the Zulu Kingdom to set up their gun manufacturing workshops. But, since they were using the assembly line manufacturing methods, each man would only know how to smith the component they are tasked with, so it¡¯s unlikely they would be able to do so.

    Jan set up another Joint Venture with the Zulu, and Nokuthula was willing to give a 50-50 share this time. It was likely she was more cooperative after the land surveyors kept finding motherloads of coal in the Zulu¡¯s land. But he needed iron.

    Hopefully, there is iron, the Zulus used iron spears, they must have obtained it from somewhere.

    Like all other previous Joint Ventures, he decided to let the Zulus name it to stroke their egos. It was called the Assegai Weapons Manufactories. The Assegai was a throwing spear, and since firearms and cannons were also projectile weapons, it was deemed to be a suitable name.

    For the firearm, wood, iron and brass are required. Wood served as the base, whilst components like the barrel and ramrod were made with either iron or brass.

    Ammunition was lead balls and gunpowder. Gunpowder was interesting. Its widespread use around the world made the formula public. If one scoured for books, one could easily find the formula for gunpowder.

    One needs nitrate, usually potassium nitrate or KNO<sub>3</sub> to supply oxygen for the reaction. Then you¡¯ll need charcoal or some other carbon fuel source, and finally sulphur. Sulphur lowers the ignition temperature required, allowing combustion to increase. Graphite is also added to prevent unwanted ignition due to a discharge of electrostatic charge.

    Proportions by weight are as follows 75% potassium nitrate, 15% softwood charcoal, and 10% sulfur. It can be mixed and matched but the composition could be left up to the gunsmith Sects managing the facility.

    Now, coal might be used to replace charcoal since it''s carbon, but he¡¯ll let the experts handle it.

    The issue was potassium nitrate. The way to get it is by imports. Chile and California, or whatever it¡¯s called in this world. Those were the cheapest.

    If one had caves with bats in them, one can collect bat guano or bat shit. By filtering it, one can get potassium nitrate, naturally. If you can obtain potassium nitrate from bat excrement, then what about obtaining them from human excrement¡­

    Who knew that shit can be worth its weight in gold.

    There was a place known as a nitrary or saltpetre works that are common in Europe to produce potassium nitrate. Bury human excrement. Water them and allow the leeching process to take place, allowing the potassium nitrate to come to the surface via efflorescence. Efflorescence is the migration of a salt to the surface of a porous material, in this case, soil, where it will coat over it. The powder is collected before being sent to a boiler where it is concentrated.

    Then there is the nitre bed process. One will mix human excrement with soil and wait for the microbiology in the soil to decompose amino-nitrogen into nitrates. Water is used to separate the soil from the nitrates before purifying it into potassium nitrate by adding wood ash.

    Of course, these are impractical. With the huge potassium nitrate deposits in other parts of the world, it made little sense to do this. Plus, he knew no Boer would be willing to work in this type of labour. He could only make do with contracting elves, and even then, their wages would be high. In the event of a war, it would be best for the Republic to buy up a huge stockpile of potassium nitrate from the foreign market and stockpiling them.

    In the modern world, no one does this. And it is manufactured with chemicals. Yay for science.

    The last thing he needed was sulphur. Since he is in this world¡¯s version of Africa, then he could rely on the rich mineral deposits of the continent. Iron is plenty in Africa. What¡¯s the relationship between iron and sulphur? Well, its child is pyrite, or its¡¯ more famous name, fool¡¯s gold. Yes, it looked like gold. Purify the compound and he should be able to get iron and sulphur.

    Jan was counting on the surveyors to get it right. They won¡¯t be able to find most of the deposits where modern-day companies mined, but he hoped for the best.

    Economists might criticize the focus on autarky. After all, globalised and international trade drives the prices of goods down. But well, they were pretty isolated. An unrecognised Republic that can easily be blockaded by sea. Even if they seized Port Natal, they lacked a navy to defend it. And since Jan knew the war was coming, structuring the economy into an autarky was the only way they were going to sustain any continued war efforts.

    A war with the British is a war of attrition. They needed to squeeze Britain in the balls until the taxpayers back in the homeland complained about the rising cost of a stupid frontier war in South Elfrica. Now, the British government cannot let go of the Cape Colony. Like the VOC before it, it needed the Cape Colony to serve as a refuelling station for its ships between India and Europe. And unlike a small trading outpost in India, they were talking about a giant MNC known as the East-India Company.

    The first war will not be able to expel them. He was sure of that. And he didn¡¯t want them to be expelled completely. Once the British were gone, then the elves are all going to look at the white men left in Elfrica and work on expelling them.

    First of all, the Western Cape is largely settled with big plantations and farms. We¡¯re talking about a sizeable human population there. The Eastern Cape, old Xhosa territory, was relatively depopulated since most of the men didn¡¯t want to deal with angry Xhosas across the border and trekked to the Boer Republics.

    In the best scenario, if cooperation was the Xhosas were possible, it will be a quick conquest of the Eastern Cape. The details of many men, Boer men, were going to perish did not escape him. Perhaps he could hash out an agreement with the Xhosa before they begin the conflict. Families who hid in their laagers and did not fight back would be spared, and a safe passage would be guaranteed to the Boer Republics.

    The issue was that he was a Boer, part of the group that settled on their lands. Were they willing to come to the table and talk? A couple of gifts of firearms should sway their Queen Sarhili to the table.

    Of course, the Boers won¡¯t be fighting alongside the Xhosa in the Eastern Cape. They¡¯ll be busy focusing on the seizure of the British settlements in Natal. Port Natal and St Lucia will be some of the first towns to be seized.

    Port Mpande was a small port. They needed an international trading port in the future. Port Natal served that purpose.

    The issue was that Jan was afraid of escalation. The British might see the seizure of Port Natal as a threat they must put down, and they won¡¯t be able to treat the matter lightly. They might dispatch garrisons from their overseas colonies to all converge on them.

    Although, some words of submission and docility might make them not be as harsh in their retaliation. They would see Natalia Republic as an excellent client state, and they could quickly hash out an agreement of peace. Of course, such an arrangement won¡¯t last.

 Chapter 59: Natalia Securities Exchange (NSE)

    One day, someone was knocking on the Boer¡¯s door. Scratching his ass whilst grumbling, he opened the door to see a Xhosa elf looking at him. The Xhosa had their hands outstretched as if he was begging.

    ¡°Presents?¡± The Xhosa asked in Elfrikaans. It was very well pronounced as if it was practised. The Xhosa then pointed at the farmer¡¯s cattle.

    Frowning, the Boer slammed the door on the Xhosa.

    Later in the day, his door was knocked again.

    He opened the door. And instead of one Xhosa, there were three. It was the same fellow from earlier in the day. This time, he brought over two other Xhosas. They were muscular in stature. And they looked down at the farmer.

    The Xhosa repeated his routine asking for presents. This time the Boer took a couple of steps back and slammed the door once more.

    He grabbed his musket and prepared for a fight.

    No fight came.

    Numerous complaints flooded his office about the Xhosa beggars and Jan was left stumped. What was he going to do? Evict them?

    He looked towards Russell, who seemed unfazed by the new challenge.

    ¡°Before I went on the trek, I lived in the Eastern Cape. Xhosas constantly came and asked for presents. I always thought they were greedy bastards until the local pastor told me it was a custom of theirs. Apparently, in Xhosa custom, when a poor Xhosa asks for food, a wealthy Xhosa is expected to supply it as insurance. One day, the wealthy Xhosa might become poor and must beg. The once poor Xhosa is expected to return the favour.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like the Buddhist karmic system. Makes sense, so what then?¡±

    He thought about banning the practice, but then he would effectively be banning begging. Is that even possible? And it wasn¡¯t like he wanted to beat on someone¡¯s culture. There were also reports of Xhosa warriors approaching those who refuse to hand out anything. No violence had taken place.

    It seemed he needed to crack down on the practice.

    Unless they could formalize this practice.

    ¡°You know¡­ lending a Xhosa some cattle and expecting payment when one becomes poor sounds like a loan. A bank loan. Perhaps, we should expand our burgeoning initiatives in securities.¡±

    His Dutch genes were calling out to him. There was a way to make money, and he wanted to take it. It would be interesting to start a securities exchange. The first securities they¡¯ll be trading? Cattle. But for that to work, he¡¯ll need the cooperation of the Zulus and Xhosa chiefs nearby.

    He doubted the Xhosas would mind since he was codifying that practice on paper. And the Zulus? He¡¯ll work something out.

    ¡°I have an idea. The first-ever securities exchange in South Elfirca! The Natalia Securities Exchange(NSE)!¡±

    Nasdaq Inc in the modern world facilitated and owns stock exchanges. And for that service, they make billions! But he isn¡¯t going to facilitate only stocks. Securities are defined as fungible and tradable financial instruments for raising capital for both public and private markets. Three types mainly existed. Firstly, equity, allows holders to have ownership rights. Secondly, debt, loans that must be repaid. Thirdly, a hybrid of both systems.

    Instead of the burden of the futures being managed by his bureaucracy, he was going to spin that off into a for-profit company, 100% owned by him. Now, they weren¡¯t going to make billions. But it could make a tidy sum.

    The dream of all securities trade having to go through his company made his mouth water, and he was a little embarrassed watching Russell look towards him in confusion.

    ¡°Ahem¡­ let me explain. Instead of the informal arrangements the Xhosa have, we can properly formalize them. It will be tracked by the NSE. And if we can the Zulu Chiefs and Xhosa Chiefs partaking in the exchange, then we will at least have some enforcement of any agreements. If they break their word, then I will have to repossess what belongs to me by force. Anyway, it will give any new settlers in Natalia a head start. Have too many cattle? Lend it out.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a good plan, but it also sounds like a lot of work.¡±

    Local officers and bureaucrats were deployed to tell the Xhosa to bugger off politely. He was unsure which Chief they paid their allegiance to. If they made complaints to their Chiefs, then he could find out where exactly they were and gather them all for a meeting. Luckily, the Zulus were a little more centralized in their command structure, so he sent a quick letter to Nokuthula to discuss the matter.

    Can the Natalia Securities Exchange be called a private company if it¡¯s owned by the government, which was him in the town? Well, if they did business outside of Port Mpande in Natalia, then it is a private company. For now, like every company with a change in the privacy policy, he decided to gather every bureaucrat involved in the facilitating futures contract and had them make a choice.

    Either they could stay in government and be assigned to work on another task. Or they could work in the new Natalia Securities Exchange.

    Like every private company, he organized them into divisions. Chief Executive Officer would be Jan Boddewijk. And under him would be a Chief Financial Officer, Chief Operating Officer, and Chief Marketing Officer.

    Someone needed to manage the books, and that¡¯s what the Chief Financial Officer did. Someone also needed to manage the daily operations, and that¡¯s for the Chief Operating Officer. And finally, someone needs to sell the idea that the Natalia Securities Exchange would benefit the other Commandoes if they¡¯re willing to let the company set up shop in their town. That¡¯s the job of the Chief Marketing Officer.

    Like any important Boer decision, he had the bureaucrats elect the best candidate amongst themselves for the new role. The democratic appointment of Officers also prevented one thing he was afraid of. Corruption. What¡¯s stopping the CFO from cooking the books? If the CFO knew that their every action is watched and that can be easily replaced by someone else, then they are less likely to do any funny actions such as these.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The big companies of the modern world offered stock options to ensure their loyalty. Jan took some time to think if he should allow them a share of the profits instead of a fixed salary. It is not as if it would prevent corruption.  But if the new employees were invested in the business, then, they are less likely to torpedo the business to the ground.

    So, he also announced that the three Executive Officers, would earn 10% of the company¡¯s income, whilst he would take 30%. That left 40%. 10% will go into the reserves. 30% will be distributed as bonuses to productive employees. These measures should be sufficient to please his new employees. There were many takers. The bonus, if they did a good job, was attractive.

    But note that he mentioned it was of income, which is revenue minus expenses.

    Most companies never made income in the first few years. So, for the bonuses or commissions? Well, it was likely he won¡¯t see any for quite some time. And he would be expected to subsidise this initiative. It was fine with gold passing through his hands from Potchefstroom as trade between the Natalia and Potchefstroom Republic grows.

    Once it fully develops with many of the schemes of modern-day financial systems, then he could make an absolute killing. Plus, it would serve as a good outlet for all the gold flowing through the town. Inflation from the gold wreaked havoc on the Spanish Empire¡¯s economy. By offering a securities exchange, many of these gold holders could dump their funds into securities.

    Why does it remind him of how governments around the world printed money during the COVID-19 pandemic and people dumped it into the stock markets for fun? It still didn¡¯t prevent the inflation that came soon after once people hit the streets.

    That was the thing. Inflation is scary. Seeing the price of goods go up every month or so is worrying. That gold passed through his hands. Is the wealth of the locals increasing with every measure of his? Prices of goods would go up since people had more money in this town.

    He needed a central bank that could give out bonds or raise interest ranks as or when he needed to control this. This needed to be discussed with Pretorius sometime in the future. But they¡¯ll need a significant gold reserve before they can discuss implementing measures like this.

    He could make do with a simple bank. And merchants were setting up banks in his town. They acted more as vaults to store whatever one desired, and one needed to pay a small fee to use their services.

    There was so much he could introduce such as insurance and banking. The traders might look at him and wonder if he will run away with their money. But all he needed to do was to store the funds in a central location where everyone can see them. He also needed a place to store the gold obtained from Potchefstroom.

    He tasked Russell with it.

    Commerce was booming. And trade networks were formed with the Zulus. Some of them have even created companies. There were numerous contractors in his town ready to get to work constructing whatever project he had. It was a way he used to improve relationships with the Zulu.

    The bidding was just a show during such events but contracting went hand in hand with politics. He had many contracts, coal mines in Zulu land, expansion of the port, construction of housing, and demarcation of farms for new settlers. There was a lot for contractors. That¡¯s not even mentioning the subcontractors that do things such as refurbishing homes and ensuring that homes had furniture.

    The construction of Port Mpande¡¯s first Central Bank was a big contract. And many contractors wanted it. Nokuthula even sent a letter requesting that he hand the contract over to Zulu contractors as they¡¯ll be able to get it done as quickly as possible. If he had any complaints about their shoddy workmanship, he could send them to her, and she will ensure they will be quickly rectified.

    But he didn¡¯t want to hand it to her. Since this was a big contract and was going to be very expensive since he wanted safes for his people to store his goods, iron and steel will be required. He was going to not hand it to a single company. Jan wanted the project to be a communal project, and he was going to break down construction into numerous tasks which will be handed over to numerous subcontractors. He was interested to see if the Zulus and Boers could work together. This was a test, an experiment for further cooperation.

    The jaws of everyone dropped when he announced that. The mouths of the Zulu especially dropped. They even invited Chief Nokuthula to the bidding, thinking he will be more likely to hand the contract to her. To put it aptly, they wanted him to show face to them since they brought her to this bidding.

    Jan briefed Russell and the bureaucrats about the bidding beforehand. This time, he wished for the bids to be for local companies to see their capabilities, and he had no desire to play politics.

    A couple of hours later, with all the bids submitted, his men made the decision. The safes were to be contracted out to Assegai Weapons Manufactory. The justification was clear, they were experienced with iron and steel since they dealt with them all the time. It was a bit strange, but it made sense since he didn¡¯t have any local companies specializing in safes.

    The structure of the building was handed over to Zulu contractors since they provided the best price. Zulu manufacturing focused on vertical integration. They could get cheap wood and fabric all provided by their people who would provide the best prices since they bought in bulk.

    What remained were the subcontractors. Landscaping and general management were won by the Zulus once more. There was no Boer company competing in this regard.

    But for interior decorations, a Boer company won, promising to integrate both Zulu and Boer architecture into the design. The justification they gave was that they hired a couple of Zulus and that should be sufficient.

    Jan heckled his bureaucrats.

    ¡°What kind of crappy justification is this? Even if they did hire some Zulus, what kind of jobs do the Zulus work? As designers or security guards?¡±

    He requested that the Administration send a notice for clarification in this regard.

    One word was sent to the Administration, it was ¡®consultants¡¯.

    He didn¡¯t want to pursue the matter any further or by asking what they meant by consultants.

    Construction would take a couple of months or weeks, depending on how fast they wanted to work on it. But Jan expected construction to have some delays. Numerous companies were working together, there would be some clashes working together.

    But Zulus and Boers were the only ones he was working with. There was now the Xhosa.

    Jan greeted the chiefs entering the hall. They had grouchy looks on their faces no doubt due to the poor perception their subordinates sowed about him. It was natural, he had those beggars evicted after all.

    While there were tens of Xhosa chiefs, only one Zulu representative came. And she was frowning. No doubt dissatisfied about not having the contract given to Zulu companies, it was likely she was going to fight a little bit to express her displeasure. He felt like kicking himself. He should probably have worked on the Natalia Securities Exchange a little earlier, but it was tough to gather all the numerous Xhosa chiefs nearby the Natalia Republic altogether.

    He made a mental note to hand a contract or two to Zulu companies soon so that he could appease the elf. Once the German land surveyors find more deposits, they would hand the construction and mining contracts to the Zulus.

    It was a bit troubling. He didn¡¯t know which language to use. Elfrikaans or English? Either way, the Xhosas won¡¯t get it.

    That was why the Administration hired a Xhosa to deal with Xhosa affairs. They sent him to tell the beggars to buzz off. The Xhosa also helped gathered all the chiefs, he could only thank him for enduring the vitriol the Xhosa Chiefs had for evicting the beggars.

    ¡°I understand Xhosa culture about the present. But what if it is properly formalized? Any man or elf that lends another cattle for sustenance will be recorded. And if the debt is called to be returned. It ought to be returned. That is why I seek your cooperation. I do not mind if your men come into my town. But I wish for it to be in a done that would be appropriate to our culture.¡±

    The Xhosa bureaucrat translated his words for him and explained them to the other chiefs. Now it was time to sell to them why it benefited them.

    ¡°You see. Some of us have a lot of cattle, and it sits around in our backyard. But you don¡¯t know who to lend it to? Through the Natalia Securities Exchange, you could do so and earn interest for doing so. Lend a cattle, get two back. The NSE will facilitate all of these for you, for a small fee.¡±

    He left the Xhosa to give the rest of the sales pitch he was briefed with.

    Jan studied Nokuthula¡¯s face, and it seemed she didn¡¯t want to fight with him over this. She could already see the potential profits to be made. As a chief, she surely had a lot of cattle lying about. Especially after their recent conquests in the Free States, she would have way too much to know what to do with them.

    He turned to the Xhosas and found them interested in what his bureaucrat had to say. He was not outright forbidding their culture, but to do it in a way that the Boers won¡¯t be too offended. Although, from the reports he had about Xhosa warriors approaching the Boer homesteads, well, he didn¡¯t want to be harassed about debts from any of them.

    A couple of hours later, the Natalia Stock Exchange was formalized with the backing of the neighbouring Zulu and Xhosa chiefs.

 Chapter 60: Womens Suffrage

    Women Right¡¯s referendum is as divisive as the matter of Brexit. Correction. Those Brexiters sure regretted it. But enough about laughing at people who did not know the consequences of their actions, the matter is extremely divisive.

    The West might have adopted them in the modern day, but it took time for them to be implemented. The Women had to campaign for them, marching through the streets of Washington to force it to be passed.

    But somehow, the West expects other countries to abide by these standards when other countries had less time to develop a politically active base of women in their populations while they were colonised. Thus, the West calls these nations uncivilized and backward when they were the ones who made these countries backwards in the first place.

    But like every good reason in support, many opposed. Some women campaigned against it. And they had good reason to do so. If women had the right to vote, then wouldn¡¯t they also be eligible for the draft?

    Name the countries where women are also conscripted with men.

    The most famous one was Israel, with the Israel Defense Forces deploying women right on the front lines. Now, if men are afraid of being on the front. Do you think women would think otherwise?

    So, in opposition to this reform, a great number of rural women joined the traditionalist faction to protest Women¡¯s Suffrage.

    Unfortunately, unlike other countries with a huge manpower pool that can solely rely on men. All he had was a little township with hostile elves all around him. Conscripting women doubled his manpower pool, so it was out of the question. So, he gave the same reason to all of those who protested this measure.

    They will be able to learn how to defend themselves and their town if they learnt to take up arms.

    Fortunately, they were a small minority. These were women on the frontier. They all knew what would happen if they lost. The elves might spare women and children, but that amnesty was only offered by the Xhosa down South. The Zulus? Complete massacre.

    The issue was command structure. Should he put a man or a woman in charge of the new womanpower bolstering his forces? And who will that person report to? Should he put women on the front or leave them as a last resort?

    The PR fallout he would get if one of his female soldiers perished in the fight would be massive. Pretorius, Sarel will probably shun him for using women as ¡®meatshields¡¯. It was likely he would a pariah, and since he depended on these influential men for survival, he cannot go full Israel Defence Forces and put women on the frontlines.

    That left two options. He could have the women serve the traditional role of ¡®servants¡¯ that the elves do, or to put it politely, auxiliaries. Or he can leave them as a garrison. A safe role. And few could point the finger if some of them perish due to a sudden elven attack.

    It seemed he will have to create a new Veldkornet that will deal with matters relating to home affairs. The women would elect one of them amongst themselves to represent them. That Veldkornet would be equal in rank to his existing two Veldkornets, Pietje and Russell.

    Their burdens would overlap with Russell¡¯s since he served as the Head of Administration, so he decided to simply shift the management of home affairs to the new female Veldkornet. The Englishman will deal less with military affairs, and more with bureaucratic ones, the ones in which he excelled.

    Although he knew he was likely to win, freak incidents happen at elections. There was no sure victory. And with the population politically charged due to the efforts spent on educating them, he can¡¯t rig elections without a protest or two.

    That was why he¡¯s in discussion in the Zulu to get them on board.

    Nokuthula simply complained about his schemes, ¡°Urgh. Why can¡¯t you simply push this through? You Boers are strange. No one would question authority. Even if you must, it is bothersome to gather every man and woman to do this referendum thing.¡±

    ¡°Can you at least play along? Help me out here. I heard the reports from my bureaucrats. You were the biggest troublemaker in politicizing the women in the town. Please finish what you started.¡±

    ¡°Then I demand compensation. A couple of cattle, or a couple of contracts. Hand them over to Zulu companies and we can call it a day.¡±

    Sighing in frustration, Jan nodded, ¡°The next two mining deposits found in Natal will be given to Zulu companies. Are you fine with that? I still have to at least pretend that we¡¯re running the sourcing of contractors fairly, so at least don¡¯t ask for anymore.¡±

    ¡°Must I get everyone? Why can¡¯t I get subordinate chiefs to cast their votes? Make their votes weighted, make their votes worth a thousand or something. A Boer vote should be worth around 0. Then you¡¯ll win.¡±

    ¡°Do you want the contracts or not? Do you wish for Boer gold?¡±

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll play along with your little charade.¡±

    Referendum day was peaceful, not as chaotic as the first one everyone held. The men who were with him remembered that day. Whilst they ran with their tails behind their backs in fear of a Zulu encirclement, here they were somehow voting along with the Zulus. Jan thought that Nokuthula would have the Zulus around town voting, but he must admit the dedication to their agreement due to the sight every Boer saw.

    They weren¡¯t even trying to hold secret ballots. There were thousands of Zulus queuing up, dumping the paper into the multiple boxes. It didn¡¯t matter that they didn¡¯t understand the contents of the paper, their chief told them where to tick, and they ticked it.

    Instead of support for his initiative, it seemed more of a show of force. A reminder to the Boers that they were heavily outnumbered so they ought to not try anything funny. He didn¡¯t know how many Zulus were mobilized. For as many, as he could throwing paper into boxes, the same number were leaving to continue with whatever daily activities they had planned.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Jan had to go into his office and laugh a little at the absurd sight on the other side of the fence before heading back out. Boxes were being stacked one after another full of votes. It was as if they were making a mockery of the entire process, perhaps a subtle indication of their Zulu¡¯s chief displeasure.

    There were so many of them, it was hard to tell where they came from. Because the Zulu side of town did not have this many inhabitants living there. He could spot some familiar faces queueing up once more while taking another piece of paper from a Zulu.

    Contrasting this with the Boer side of town, sectioned-off wooden panels were hiding the voter from the outside. A bureaucrat sat outside, who swore an oath to be truthful, ready to help the Boer out when needed.

    Many of the Boers thought that the Zulu enfranchisement would not have an effect, but many of them had horrified looks on their faces as they watched the endless hordes of Zulu stacking box after box full of votes.

    It was likely the Boers would complain if he added Zulu enfranchisement in another referendum, so he probably could not use this scheme again.

    Oh well just like Brexit, no takebacks. It was not as if laughing at Brexiters regretting it was his favourite pastime. On behalf of every nation part of the British Commonwealth, everyone can agree it is their favourite pastime.

    Who knew that Women¡¯s Suffrage won with a landslide victory, 99.9% in support? When he announced that, most of the Boer women cheered, whilst the Boer men were glad that the security of the town was bolstered. The small minority booed, but with such a watershed result, what could they do? They all went home and licked their wounds.

    Any Western country today would look at that result and call out his bullshit. But it is Women¡¯s Suffrage, so they had nothing to complain about. Well, if it was the Western country of the Victorian era, then these backward Westerners had a lot to complain about with the results.

    He quickly got to work organizing their womanpower. First thing, many of them were deployed as volunteer police officers to help bolster security and safety around town. Each of them was to be given a Cape Horse so that any crime can be quickly reported. A firearm was handed over to them as well. If they had their ones, they didn¡¯t need to be given one.

    He did not have the luxury to separate the police and the military. The military was going to be the police, and their methods of suppression were very lethal. But at the frontier, if your opponents were going to shoot you, would you let them do so?

    The rest were organized into wagon groups. He planned in his head to obtain ¡®servants¡¯ for these women. But before that, he decided to rename the term ¡®servants¡¯ to auxiliaries so that the Zulus can also serve. And to please them, they were allowed to bring their weapons. However, the final discretion of such a decision would be left to the leader of the wagon, who would select their auxiliaries.

    Janneke, Pietje¡¯s wife, was elected as the new Veldkornet of Home Affairs. And she got to work wrangling all the women around town and organising them into new divisions.

    A couple of days after the new incorporation of women into the military.

    The Boer was greeted by women on horseback, pointing their guns at the shit his cattle left on the ground. He blankly stared at the excrement, before looking at the guns all the women had. They were extremely menacing and sitting on top of the Cape Horses doubled their height.

    He looked around him. Other men and women were passing by with their daily lives. If the officer before him was a man, he would spend some time arguing with him. But this was a woman. Should he embarrass himself arguing with a woman over a fine? They all had guns pointing at him!

    He raised his hands in the air and meekly spoke out, ¡°Yes madam! You may impound this cow. I will pay the fine in the town hall. Please don¡¯t shoot me!¡±

    And for some reason, the number of complaints about the rude officers fining the Boer farmers decreased. Who knew that guns can solve so many problems?

    Jan¡¯s Office, with a proposal from Veldkornet Russell

    ¡°I have a merchant from the New World offering a bunch of seeds. Something suitable for the Elfrican climate.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t this matter be taken up with Pieje? That man runs the farming cooperative. Talk with him instead.¡±

    ¡°I already did so. But he requested for your judgement as well in this decision.¡±

    Jan looked up from his desk, away from the trade reports, to look at Russell, waiting for him to continue.

    The creature he met this time was a strange one. It floated in the skies, circling the town before landing before him. It was half as tall as him, but its menacing appearance struck fear in the passers-by. It was a bird with a long, shark beak. Fires gathered on the bottom of its wings.

    Opening its mouth, a wisp of static discharge took place, sending out a soft mellow crackle.

    ¡°Ahuena, thunderbird,¡± Jan softly remarked remembering his research about the strange world. South America was filled with these creatures, the thunderbirds of the mythos of South Americans in the old world.

    He always wondered why they didn¡¯t serve as early freighter transport, but with one look at the thunderbird before him, one could see why. They were too big to be migratory birds that can travel across oceans. The amount of cargo was put into question.

    The thunderbird wore a few ornaments that were resistant to its fires.

    He could see why Pietje left the matter to him. There was this instinctive fear one could feel looking at this creature. Danger. Immense danger fanned out from this creature.

    ¡°Timta Huachalla Colquehuanca from the Inca Empire. I have business to conduct and one of your men directed me your way. I have interesting seeds from South America that you might be interested in, farmer,¡± Timta looked behind him at the two men running after him. One of them held a bag and retrieved a seed from inside it.

    Stretching out his hand to Timta, he picked it up with his beak and thrust it at Jan.

    Mumbling, ¡°This is Sisal. Native in the Yucatan region where the Mayans live. It is a tough and sturdy fibre. Paper and fabric could be made from it, as has been done historically. However, looking at all the trees in Elfrica, I must advise you that it will be a waste to use them to produce paper. As the fabric is tough, perhaps even tougher than whatever you use to cover your wagons. For clothing, it is most suitable since you¡¯re on the frontier with the flora all around you. Believe me, the flora in Central America is tough, and it will pull on your clothes. Sisal will not simply rip due to it.¡±

    Jan carefully took the seed from Timta¡¯s mouth, making sure to not get himself burnt off his feathers. Inspecting the seed, not even knowing where to start, he noticed that it was just a seed.

    ¡°This Sisal plant is something I have not heard before. Why should I grow something like this instead of the tried and tested cotton?¡±

    ¡°Cotton is soft. Very soft, it rips and tears easily. Sisal does not need much fertilizer and is sturdy in this hot country. It does not need much care. And since this land has many conflicts, it will suit your men¡¯s needs.¡±

    Jan continued analysing the seed whilst thinking about the thunderbird¡¯s words. On one hand, expanding into cotton makes the most sense. But it is a common crop. He would have to compete with American cotton, European Cotton and Asian cotton. No doubt, the production of this crop would ramp up to meet the growing population¡¯s needs accordingly. If he entered the market trying to compete with these nations who already have an established tradition of cotton growing, he would surely lose.

    If he wanted cotton, then he could import them from these nations. It was not some kind of protected good like high-end computing chips in the old world.

    Growing Sisal, meant that he wouldn¡¯t have to compete with these nations in cultivating the crop, and he could focus on dominating the space with the crop.

    There was nothing wrong with procuring a few seeds to start a trial run. After all, he was a Boer. He needed a farm to reinforce that image. The humiliation of being unable to host Sarel during his time here made a mark on him. Even the poorest farmer was able to accommodate the man, how could he not do the same?

    Although, it was mightily embarrassing to admit he knew almost nothing about farming to everyone around him who farmed for their entire lives.

    ¡°Very well, Timta. You can hash out a deal with Pietje. Tell him I approve the procurement of several seeds as a trial. If it succeeds, we can do further business with South America,¡±

    Timta and Pietje discussed and hashed out a deal. Pietje came up to Jan and asked him what they were supposed to do with the newly procured seeds.

    ¡°Pietje, I will tell you the truth. I know nothing about farming. Could you tell me how to begin? I wish to start by cultivating these seeds.¡±

    Pietje beat his chest in glee and began telling him everything he knew about running a farm. Cultivating crops and taking care of cattle. He didn¡¯t want to make it a full or part-time job, so he grimaced as the man enthusiastically shared everything he knew.

    The issue is that he said nothing about growing sisal.

 Chapter 61: Cattle Securities

    A plot of land was demarcated in the rural area of Port Mpande. A simple plot of land about an acre. The Corporal of the district was informed, and he watched his Commando set foot upon the barren land.

    Grass and a couple of bushes grew on the land. The Zulu and Xhosa once used it for their cattle to graze. Here he is, using the land for crop cultivation. Now whilst he wanted to experience what it¡¯s like for the everyday man. He didn¡¯t want to get too deep.

    He had no interest in owning a farm unlike the many who often read books where the main protagonist goes to a new world to start a farm. They probably never mentioned the part that without the lack of modern fertilizer, they would have to collect their excrement and shovel them over the crops. And as a modern man, he didn¡¯t want to do that. And those novels never got too deep into farming, abstracting the process entirely to focus on the protagonists¡¯ love interests.

    Mentally taking an overview of the land, he could see the land being boxed by two fences. Each of the fences belonged to a different farm. First, he needed an estate to serve as his residence. Because he was a Boer he couldn¡¯t have an aristocrat¡¯s mansion, as these farmers wouldn¡¯t like ostentatious displays of wealth. A simple cottage would serve fine, and it can be expanded according to his needs.

    The rest of the land will be divided into plots. Assuming an acre of land, it will be 4046.86 metres squared. Dividing them into six plots of land, it will be approximately 675 metres squared each. Also assuming that the small house would take a single acre, the rest will be used for farming.

    An idea came to his head. If he was a European aristocrat, he could lease out each plot to farmers. But considering that he was in Elfrica, and not in Europe, where land is already taken up by landowners, he doesn¡¯t think there will be any takers.

    Most important was to get someone to manage this estate for him. The traditional Boer options were a Khoikhoi servant, a wife, or a slave if he wanted to be knifed in his sleep.

    The servant was out because as Commando, he served as a role model of sorts. Having a servant would encourage the other farmers to have one, which he didn¡¯t want. The elves will be equals, who will be able to own their land to cultivate crops on. Why would they want to labour for the Boers if they have their farms?

    A wife was a bad option. He didn¡¯t even know why this thought came to him. Must be contamination from the Boers around him.

    Finally, the slave was the best option if he was a Japanese light novel protagonist. They for some reason instantly fall in love with their master who bought them. Perhaps their masters bought mentally damaged slaves¡­

    Jan decided to contract someone to do it for him. The traditional Boer would build everything by hand. Hell, he heard that Sarel build his homestead all by himself. With the help of the administration, he could get them to help construct it for him. They can also help contract someone to manage his estate for him in his stead.

    Taking a scan of the land, he left to the surprise of the Boers around him, who all expected him to get to work. Chop down some trees, harvest their lumber, and begin constructing. If maybe he had cheat or whatnot, then maybe he would do something like that. But he had gold! He could pay someone to do it for him! Power of Money!

    A letter was delivered by one of Potgieter¡¯s men. Rubbing his hand in glee, he took a scan of the parchment.

    Dear Jan,

    The ¡®tobacco¡¯ has been delivered as requested. The Boers in Zoutpansberg don¡¯t realize that their usual tobacco has been mixed with opium. One even smoke some in my face as they studied the shipment. It might take some time for the effects you wish to happen to set in. I will write to you in the next month or so if they¡¯re any changes in their behaviour.

    Yours sincerely,

    Hendrik Potgieter

    Jan put the paper away. It was expected that it would take some time for the opium addiction to seek in, but with the construction of his farm underway, he hoped the addiction would seek in so he could start planting some opium. Unlike the other Boers who farm for subsistence, he was farming entirely for profit.

    Then again, there was no need to count on the people in Zoutpansberg getting addicted to opium. Opium had high demand. And demand was low cause the British were currently fighting the First Opium War. Merchants who were lining up to dump opium into China were waiting around, wondering what to do with their entire shipment. Of course, some were shipping them across the land in today¡¯s Golden Triangle region, Myanmar, Thailand and Laos.

    That was why he could rely on buying opium for the cheap for now. But once the war is done, and the British seized Hong Kong, prices of opium would shoot up due to the pent-up Chinese demand from the war. At that time, hopefully, he should have grown his opium so he could join the British in dumping them onto the Chinese market for money.

    Opium has uses other than getting people addicted to it. There is no denying it has medicinal properties in pain relief, like all other drugs. Procuring some local stocks for his men to deal with whatever medical conditions they had would surely boost their standard of living.

    The issue was he didn¡¯t want them to get addicted to it. Drugs destroy families. Everyone knows about its absurd withdrawal effects that make it almost impossible for someone to quit. He would be fine if a small minority used it to deal with their medical conditions. But for everyone to use it to deal with their withdrawal? Hell no!

    Some might say it is immoral to make money off opium. Such people should learn economics and even if they didn¡¯t grow opium, someone else will fulfil the demand. He is only profiting off the current situation, and if it was uneconomical to grow opium, he would burn the opium fields so that the ashes would serve as fertilizer for the next crops. Morality was already questionable in this era. He was a Boer, should he kill himself along with every other human in South Elfrica because they were occupying the natives¡¯ land? Their forefathers were here hundreds of years already, weren¡¯t they as native as the natives?Stolen novel; please report.

    The Natalia Securities Exchange started with a simple small office filled with Boer bureaucrats. Every day, new hires came through the door, mostly elves, either Zulu or Xhosa. They were given a short stint in Elfrikaans and English before being given papers and sent to either Zululand or Xhosa land. There they became salespeople to the various chiefs, enticing them to lend their cattle out to the Exchange.

    The Chiefs always asked a single question, ¡°Why should they?¡±

    Then, they¡¯ll reply, ¡°You get more cattle in return,¡±

    Elves in South Elfrica practice segmentation. Once an elf becomes old enough, they will leave their parents'' homestead and settle in another land, forming a small tribe with their small group of followers. The Chief of a tribe has the most cattle. They will lend out their cattle to the followers, who will be expected to return the cattle. This way, their followers will become attached to the chief while also being able to receive nutrition from the cattle¡¯s milk.

    The Natalia Securities Exchange cut out the loyalty and attachment the followers had for their chiefs. The Chiefs wondered what the point was even. For profit? More cattle are nice, but even if they had more cattle, they wondered if this business could even ensure the cattle could be returned to them.

    The salesperson would present a list of signatures made by various chiefs backing the initiative. The Chiefs would then nod, seeing familiar names on the list. Whilst they were suspicious, they made light overtures and were willing to invest a couple of cattle into the initiative. If anything went wrong, they¡¯ll look up the Chiefs on the paper and demand compensation.

    Whilst these elves were promoting the exchange to their chiefs, fellow Boers were sent to the towns around the vicinity of Pietermaritzburg to convince the Commandoes to let the Exchange set up shop.

    Unlike the elves, they got the concept very easily.

    They could loan cattle to the Exchange, who would loan them to others. The NSE would act as an intermediary and ensure the cattle will be returned.

    Which led to the question of how was the NSE going to guard the cattle they lent.

    The Boer salesperson would present a piece of parchment also containing the list of Elfrican chiefs.

    ¡°The Commando of Port Mpande would repossess any debts owed.¡±

    And like the Elfrican Chiefs, they decided to dip their toes in the initiative. After all, the Commando back in Port Mpande was a rising star in the Republic, it was best to get in his good graces. It was only a couple of cattle; they looted thousands from the Zulu.

    With cattle ready to be loaned out, borrowers need to be sought out. The NSE set up a booth right by the outskirts of Pietermaritzburg and waited for the numerous wagons to pass through. These wagons contained families trekking away from the Cape Colony. They took whatever they could bring along with them. That meant any cattle was left behind. If they brought it along with them, it could be easily stolen by the local elves.

    A sign read ¡®Free Cattle¡¯ in Elfrikaans. A picture of a cow that seemed to be drawn by a kid sat next to it. Some eyes were captured, but since most of them couldn¡¯t read the words, most of them passed by.

    The Boer sitting by the booth grumbled about being assigned this shitty job. His other partner, another Boer said that maybe they should change tactics.

    He began hollering that they had free cattle to give out, and wagons started stopping by the booth. The patriarch of the wagon approached the booth and would inquire about the free cattle.

    ¡°We have some of them in Pietermaritzburg¡¯s kraal. If you want them, then you¡¯ll need to sign this and this. You ought to also tell us where you¡¯re settling. Once that is done, we can hand the cattle over to you.¡±

    Now, it was obvious there were many loopholes in the strategy. Nothing is stopping them from running. That was why a fixed address was required. These men had nothing. Giving them cattle tied them to the land, and thus they¡¯re not able to trek away.

    So, the Boers at the booth could only tell them to find a good spot to claim in the nearby town before coming over to the booth. They repeated this for the entire day.

    It was misleading advertising, so what? It works.

    The next day, families who settled in the towns around Pietermaritzburg showed up at their booth to claim the free cattle. It was an endless line of people all wanting some free cattle.

    To the first person in line, they pulled out a prepared contract.

    ¡°It is free. But there are terms you must abide by.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this a loan!¡± The person at the front grumbled, and everyone else in line also grumble with him.

    ¡°We are offering you cattle. And since you all are great farmers, you can easily pay back the loan. All we are two cattle for every one that is loaned. Of course, that means if you want to breed the cattle to pay back the loan, then you ought to borrow two cattle, a bull and a cow. Or, you could work hard and hope that the harvest on your land is good. You might only be able to buy one or two with your pitiful harvest. But I¡¯m offering two off the back, and you can breed them and profit over the long run. This will jumpstart your farm, anyway I looked at it.¡±

    Some of the Boers who didn¡¯t like debt and loans left. The remaining stayed, thinking about the opportunity it offered them. It was a loan, but cattle can be bred. Over a couple of years, they should easily be able to pay back the loan. Then, they can keep the remaining cattle they bred. It was a simple deal.

    The first man in line immediately the contract, borrowing two cattle to get started on his farm. They handed him two numbers and directed him to Pietermaritzburg¡¯s kraal. The reason why they demanded the Boer¡¯s farm location was, so they know whose cattle they ought to land. And of course, it was the Commando¡¯s cattle. Specifically, the one that the farmer followed.

    By the end of the day, they lent out all the cattle to those who would make good loans. They lived in the same town or district their Veldkornet or Commando lived. Their superior¡¯s cattle were used to finance the loan.

    The remaining loans were considered risky. Either the Commando or Veldkornet in the district didn¡¯t support the NSE, or the place they stayed at made debt collection difficult. There was also the matter of the elven chiefs¡¯ cattle. It was highly unlikely it will be lent to other elves since the elves¡¯ chiefs provide the cattle to them. They could lend it to lone wanderers or those who planned to settle into new lands, but these are ultra-risky loans.

    To counteract this, the NSE also formed a new division. The debt collection division. For some reason, they mainly hired Zulus and Xhosas. Once they were given guns and orders to track the borrowers deemed risky, they would harass the borrowers once every year or so to remind them about the loan. Horses were procured so that they could go from town to town to harass the borrowers. Western clothing that made them look like half-elf from a distance also helped so that they wouldn¡¯t be harassed for looking like an elf.

    Plus, if they see an elf acting as a Boer by riding on horseback with their trusty gun by their side, the Boers in town would be scared. And that is bad for business, so they were advised to act as half-elves. In doing so, they were also taught Elfrikaans.

    With that in mind, the men at the booth carefully evaluated every borrower. They even did stringent background checks, asking about their time in the Cape Colony. Any gaps or holes in the explanation of their histories had any loans to them immediately denied. Most of these men were illiterate, so it was hard for them to carry out the explanation. It most likely played a role in filtering many of the men, leaving those who could give a coherent and believable backstory.

    They were then asked if they had any plans of trekking away or moving to another town soon. The men could only reply that it depends based on the next harvesting season.

    The Boers noted that down and wrote in their notes that their elven debt collectors should be dispatched during or before harvesting season so that they can ensure the borrowers won¡¯t flee.

    They filtered it down and gave the men loans. In their hands, were notes made about risky borrowers. For their duty, they wrote up a report on every borrower and had them sent to HQ back in Port Mpande.

    The NSE workers in Port Mpande processed the report and sent them to every loaner who lent the cattle to give them an exact profile of the men they were lending to. Many Commandoes and Veldkornets were surprised that many loanees were situated either right in their towns and districts respectively. The Elven Chiefs could only deal with reports that they couldn¡¯t comprehend, so they complained to the NSE.

    The Natalia Securities Exchange quickly apologised and had Xhosa and Zulu bureaucrats write up the reports to Elven chiefs.

    And with that, the first-ever transactions by the Natalia Securities Exchange were carried out.

 Chapter 62: Insurance

    Whilst the Natalia Securities Exchange was busy dealing with cattle, a Boer was sitting in his office in Port Mpande wondering how the exchange could make more money. Profitability was key, and from the reports of the transactions given out, profit would come in a couple of years. That will not do.

    The NSE had to be like a start-up and hit fast and hard. Once Port Natal was seized from the British during the Xhosa wars, many of Port Mpande¡¯s original duties would be carried out by the new port. Port Mpande thus had to diversify its workforce. It couldn¡¯t rely on shipping to ensure its people were financially well. Thus, Jan wanted the town to specialise in financial services.

    After all, financial services were extremely profitable. And with the gold from Zoutpansberg to back them, they could expand with glee whilst the other Boers watched on, jealous of the riches of Port Mpande.

    However, financial services were very high on the value chain. The problem was that the South Elfrican economy was agrarian. There was a reason why banking services were not provided to the poor, and that there is a penalty if one does not deposit a large enough sum into the bank account. Banking in small sums is inherently unprofitable.

    Trading cattle is likewise, also extremely unprofitable. This was why Jan was straining his mind, thinking about how he could supercharge the port¡¯s economy. They need to get out from the very bottom of the value chain and climb to useful industrial products.

    If nothing was done, his town would be stuck in a mostly agrarian economy, which was why most of his funds had to be spent subsidising the various industrial efforts. However, this money wasn¡¯t for free, they gave him a stake in the various companies he was trying to industrialize for. Once they climb up the chain and become wealthier, then they can partake in more expensive financial services such as bonds and stocks, making the Natalia Securities Exchange profitable.

    His goal was to mock the development of the Four Asian Tigers of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan and South Korea. He was going to raise every Boer¡¯s living standard from that of a subsistence farmer to one that can compete with British aristocrats.

    To do so, were the coming trends of the Victorian age.

    Chemistry and the various discoveries made during the age. Fertilizer was one such discovery that allowed the global population to rise from 1 billion in the 1900s to 8 billion in the modern world. Most important of all was the fractional distillation of oil and hydrocarbons that brought plastic to life.

    If he could put some funds and some manpower into experimenting with his scant memory of Secondary School, they can easily dominate the Chemical Industry. British Companies would instead be begging the enlightened Boers for technology sharing. First was the periodic table, if he remembered correctly, they haven¡¯t even figured out how to organize atoms together. He needed to find a notable Chemist or whatever they¡¯re called in this world and tell them to organize atoms by atomic weight.

    Next was electricity. Absolute gamechanger. The one issue was he couldn¡¯t remember. He looked at his right hand. His thumb pointed upward, his index finger pointed straight ahead, and his middle finger pointed to the left. He could only remember that electricity could be generated with some magnets and kinetic force. As of this time, there should be a man who led the charge, Michael Faraday. Electricity can be used in everything and is the backbone of modern society.

    Last of all was the change in warfare. Warfare changed from Napoleonic line infantry to skirmish infantry since artillery could smash units in formation. Most important of all was that the crappy muskets were replaced with repeating action rifles. Also, if he obtained machine guns, he could likely crown himself King over South Elfrica. Developing such a military-industrial complex requires advanced chemical and physics knowledge.

    But this was a pipe dream. Of a man, stuck in a town with a mostly agrarian economy, trying to industrialize.

    While Boers weren¡¯t good clientele for financial services, some merchants came to town or traded amongst the various towns. They were in dangerous lands after all. The next corner could lead to an elven ambush and a loss of all their cargo. Naturally, they wanted some protection from a total loss of cargo.

    That¡¯s where he comes in offering insurance. All he had to do was insure various goods offered by policyholders and collect premiums. The policyholder didn¡¯t want to lose the cargo, so there was no reason to make false claims to take compensation. He didn¡¯t plan on paying them the full sum for the good either. After all, he was the only game in town. There were no other insurance companies. It was betting everything that the trade goes well or having some insurance to hedge that the transaction went well.

    He had Zulu friends. He could negotiate a way for both to profit. Get the Zulu to attack some caravans. This would lead to merchants scratching their heads. He comes in and offers insurance.

    Now, Jan was no lawyer, and he was sure no Boer knew anything about law. So, he copied what English insurance companies were doing by dispatching a bureaucrat to Port Natal for some corporate espionage.

    For those who pay his insurance, their caravans will be safe and sound. They will make a smooth trip from Pietermaritzburg to Potchefstroom. But for those who didn¡¯t or did business with another company? Then he would sympathize with the poor merchants who had all their goods stolen. He already thought of a name for the insurance, Zulu insurance. If he could rope the Xhosa in, Xhosa insurance. What if there were unlawful Boers? Boer insurance. Just slap Pretorius'' name on the caravan or something and they will run away in fear.

    That is three insurance policies he could offer to his policyholders. Was it scummy? Of course. But he wanted to jumpstart the financial sector. As those business professors say, you need to find a strong pain point that people are willing to pay for. Since there wasn¡¯t now, he would just make one. Yes, every tribe in South Elfrica will get custom insurance. If his policyholders don¡¯t pay, then they shouldn¡¯t mind the sudden attacks by the very specific tribe his insurance policy listed.

    Attacks from hostile foes are good insurance. Another one would be insurance on goods to ensure compensation for them. Especially if it''s extremely valuable ones like firearms. What about travel insurance? There is no guarantee that one will be fine during their trek. A doctor can be easily procured for the cheap in Potchefstroom to help them out.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    There was a market he could see the more he thought about it.

    He had the insurance company to be a subsidiary of the Natalia Securities Exchange. It will be called South Elfrica Insurance. Descriptive and brief. One can easily understand the point of the company upon its name.

    The human clientele serves as a decent consumer base. But most of the region was made up of elves. Perhaps they would be willing to purchase insurance?

    ¡°Ahh, yes. Would you be interested in purchasing insurance for your cow?¡± The salesperson went to the elf who was laying by the tree.

    ¡°Ag soega,¡± The elf replied to the Boer who went off.

    These incidents repeated many times, so he decided it was a bust. How about the Elfrican chiefs? They hired a couple of Zulus and Xhosas and sent them to negotiate with the chiefs.

    ¡°Would you like to purchase insurance for your husband? Let¡¯s say by any chance, he dies due to some unforeseen reason. Wouldn¡¯t you like to receive compensation? The South Elfrica Insurance firm will also help to look for another husband for you, with some help from local matchmakers,¡± The Xhosa salesperson explained.

    The Xhosa Chief looked towards her favourite sitting by her side before turning to face the salesperson decked out in Western clothing.

    She spread her hands out and pointed at the numerous men sitting around her, all belonging to her household. Only wealthy chiefs can have many husbands, and she had many to replace her favourite. Still, he was her favourite. It would be a pity if he perished.

    ¡°Tell me more,¡± The Xhosa Chief demanded, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Included in the policy is also that the best medical treatment would be sourced for your favourite. We have Xhosa War Doctors, Zulu Sangomas, Boer doctors?¡± The Xhosa salesperson paused and thought about whether he wanted a Boer doctor to treat him. Did those farmers know how to care for the wounded?

    The Xhosa shook his head and continued, ¡°We also have English doctors from Port Natal. Whatever medical treatment your favourite or that you want, we got.¡±

    The Xhosa Chief gestured and the Xhosa handed over the insurance policy written in Xhosa. She did a quick scan and signed it.

    ¡°By the way, I don¡¯t have any of those pounds sterling. Will you take some cattle instead?¡±

    The only problem was that business with Elfrican Chiefs only brought cattle, the currency of pastoralist peoples. It was great if he wanted to run an agrarian economy, but he wanted cold hard cash! Or gold, whatever that everyone around the world can universally agree upon as a universal currency.

    And it wasn¡¯t like Jan could dump them on the open market. If his men knew he was the one who crashed the prices of cattle, he was going to get a visit from all his corporals. He transferred the cattle to the custody of the Natalia Securities Exchange where they will be loaned away.

    To ensure his finances were in check, he hired some bookkeepers to track the various transactions between his companies. This wasn¡¯t going to be an FTX situation, where there was no oversight. All of these were burning holes in his reserves, but with gold passing through his hands, he shouldn¡¯t be thrifty and focus on investing every sum into the town.

    To ensure that the financial statements are well, he spent another lump sum in creating another subsidiary of the Natalia Securities Exchange. An auditing firm. But this firm would only answer to him and answer to no one in the NSE conglomerate. They will check the books and ensure everything was fine. They would also help prevent tax evasion. And since the town was stable and everything was in check, he planned to implement taxation. The auditing firm could make some money on the side, charging local companies to check their books so that they could give a rating to ensure other Commandoes will be satisfied since tax evasion did not take place.

    His funds were running low, so he took some time to wait for the companies to establish themselves while waiting for further correspondence from Potchefstroom.

    1<sup>st</sup> February 1841.

    A letter came. It was addressed to Commando Jan Boddewijk.

    Dear Jan,

    The men from Zoutpansberg have been clamouring for the special tobacco we shipped over the other time. They wish that we supply more. They are willing to pay a good price for the tobacco.

    Yours sincerely,

    Hendrik Potgieter

    Seeing that letter, he immediately went to Pietje¡¯s office and requested for the man to negotiate with the merchants in procuring poppy seeds.

    Pietje obliged and a couple of seeds were procured. Jan sent them to his newly constructed estate.

    There he stood before the lovely cottage constructed by a Zulu company while looking over the endless fields of grass. He stared blankly at the fields and didn¡¯t even know where to begin.

    His neighbours were looking at their Commando staring at the ground before him. They all scratched their heads, wondering if he would pick up the mantle of a real Commando and start domesticating the land.

    Jan went into his cottage and found it suitably furbished. He sat on a seat and began drafting out his request that would be listed in the next government contract. Yes, he would be contracting either an elf or a Boer to manage this estate for him. To be honest, he couldn¡¯t care less how the opium is grown. All he needed was opium to grow, and for the poppy to be shipped to Zoutpansberg.

    The contract went up, and no one took the contract. To be exact, Russell¡¯s bureaucrats rejected every bid that came through. They cited that no one was experienced enough to cultivate opium. It makes sense, the crop was foreign. If he wanted an expert to cultivate it for him, he would need either an Omani, Persian, Afghan or Indian. More specifically, a Bengali.

    Since the Natalia Republic was in the British market, finding a Bengali and hiring one should not be too difficult. He dispatched bureaucrats to chatter with the merchants from India to source an opium grower from Bengal.

    A couple of days later, a Bengali was produced before his eyes.

    ¡°I heard you are looking for a man to cultivate opium in your little town. I could do a mighty fine job of that,¡± The Bengali confidently assured him. A young fellow in his twenties, he wore a simple cotton shirt paired with wool leggings. A hat shielded him from the harsh Elfrican sun. His skin was dark, but not as dark as an elf''s. Indians after all have many different skin colours depending on the region of India they hailed from. For those in the North, their skin colour might be lighter. Whilst those in the South usually had darker skin. And since the man was from Bengal, around the South of India, his skin tone was dark like most Bengalis from the region.

    ¡°No offence, sir. But we do consume cattle here. I hope you wouldn¡¯t be too offended.¡±

    The Bengali swayed his hand from side to side while shaking his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m Muslim. It is fine.¡±

    Jan took the Bengali to his estate and explained to him how he wanted the crops to be rotated.

    ¡°All year round, opium. Maximize the opium yields.¡±

    ¡°The plant takes an average of 120 days to mature. Around six weeks later or 42 days, a small cabbage would grow from the ground. Around eight weeks or 56 days, the stem of the poppy plant will grow from the cabbage to reach about one or two feet. 90 days and the bud on the stem will develop into a flower consisting of four petals. Inside the flower is the pod that looks green. The pod will ripen between 10 to 12 days, any longer and more wouldn¡¯t be produced. Then, it will be harvested,¡± The Bengali explained the entire process, stunning Jan with the complex process.

    120 days, that¡¯s around 4 months. If the man started planting now even with the help of contract labour, the earliest he could see yields was around June. But most likely, he would see yields in July to account for planting and sowing of the soil. After all, the soil in his estate had weeds and grass sucking up all the nutrients meant for his opium. It will have to be cleared before proper planting can be carried out.

    But it wasn¡¯t as if opium was entirely useless. Its industrial product already discovered at this time was known as morphine. There were tales of such a formula existing during the days of the Byzantine Empire, but the conquest of the Ottomans caused the formula to disappear. A German by the name of Friedrich Sert¨¹rner discovered morphine in 1804. He set up a company to sell morphine as pain medication, as well as treatment for various addictions. The man even reportedly warned, "I consider it my duty to attract attention to the terrible effects of this new substance I called morphium in order that calamity may be averted." Sert¨¹rner got addicted to morphine, and he rightfully made this warning.

    In the coming conflict, he¡¯ll need batches of morphine for the wounded. They may get addicted, but without the lack of modern pharmaceuticals, it was either watching a man suffer in pain or relieving him with it. And he rather chooses the latter, than wait for the invention of modern pharmaceuticals.

 Chapter 63: Periodic Table

    Cultivator Professor Johann Wolfgang D?bereiner is a professor of chemistry and pharmacy at the University of Jena. It was the age of enlightenment, and like the cultivators of old who sought to oppose the heavens, D?bereiner wished to do the same.

    Son of a coachman, he was unable to attend formal schooling in Germany. He apprenticed at an apothecary, and widely read and attended lectures on science at the local university. His master at the apothecary admired his curiosity in the sciences and thus took him as an apprentice. There he trained to be a cultivator, specializing in chemistry.

    In 1810, in recognition of his efforts, his master recommended him to the administration of the University of Jena, and thus he was able to become a professor. Due to the opportunity afforded by his master, he was also able to formally study chemistry in Strasbourg.

    In 1829, he published a work reporting on the various trends in certain groups of elements. For some reason, the average atomic mass of lithium and potassium is like sodium. Referring to the modern periodic table, the atomic mass of lithium is 3, whilst the atomic mass of potassium is 19. The average of the elements is 11, the atomic mass of sodium. These elements are in Group 1 of the periodic table, which have 1 valence electron, or an electron on its outer shell that it would like to give away to become stable.

    The same pattern was found with calcium, strontium, and barium. Calcium and Barium have an atomic mass of 20 and 56 respectively. The average would be 38, given the atomic mass of strontium. These atoms are in Group 2 of the periodic table, containing 2 valence electrons each.

    Another example would be the atoms Sulphur, Selenium and Tellurium. Sulfur and Tellurium have an atomic mass of 16 and 52 respectively. The average would be 34, the atomic mass of Selenium. They are in Group 6. When the elements in Group 2 and Group 6 interact, a chemical reaction is formed, and electrons from Group 2 atoms are transferred to Group 6 atoms so that atoms of both groups will have their outer shells filled. Thus, they will achieve stability, like the Noble Gases of Group 8.

    This is true for the Noble Gases of Group 1 and Group 7.

    One day, after holding a class, he went to the post office and received a strange letter.

    As the German manning the post office explained, ¡°It came from South Elfrica. D?bereiner, do you have any relatives in South Elfrica?¡±

    Professor D?bereiner scratched his head. His family had no ties to aristocrats of any sort, so it was hard to keep track of his family tree. Maybe there was a distant cousin who migrated there, who knows? He took the letter, paid the price for the postage and went back to his office.

    Tearing open it, the letter and its contents were written in English. He frowned and momentarily thought of throwing it away. But the first line of the letter caught his eye.

    Dear D?bereiner,

    I love your work, ¡®Versuch zu Gruppirung der elementaren Stoffe nach ihrer Analogie¡¯, or translated to English ¡®An attempt to group elementary substances according to their analogies¡¯.

    D?bereiner did not dismiss the letter. It seems it was sent by a fan. The man must be an Englishman who settled in South Elfrica. Since the man bothered to skip the language gap to try to read his report, he shouldn¡¯t so easily dismiss it.

    He went to the international department of his local university and looked for a German professor or student who knew English. Offering them a small fee, he requested for the letter to be translated. As D?bereiner went back to his office to ponder the letter¡¯s contents, the English translator finished his translation and handed back the letter transcribed in German.

    Dear D?bereiner,

    I love your work, ¡®An attempt to group elementary substances according to their analogies¡¯. It does seem that the elements of Lithium, Sodium and Potassium are related. The same could be said about Calcium, Strontium and Barium. I wonder what the relationship between these atoms is. I have been reading Richard Laming¡¯s work. Have you read it? The interesting thing was that he had an idea that an atom consists of a core of matter surrounded by subatomic particles that unit electric charges. What if the atoms that are grouped have similar subatomic particles? For example, if you take any atom from the group of Lithium, Sodium and Potassium and mix them with Chlorine, Bromine, and Iodine, you will find that they will react no matter what. The same holds through for Calcium, Strontium and Barium with sulphur, selenium and tellurium.

    Yours sincerely,

    Andries Pretorius

    ¡®Who the Schei?e is Andries Pretorius?¡¯ D?bereiner thought to himself. Yet the second thought that came to mind was that perhaps he should peruse the works of English cultivators.

    D?bereiner rushed back to the post office and queried the clerk, who handed him the letter, the source of the letter.

    ¡°Uhm. It was transferred over from the British, so it must be a British colony. But its name is the Natalia Republic, I suppose it¡¯s a client state.¡±

    ¡°Since you did some research sir, do you know of a man called Andries Pretorius?¡±

    ¡°In my research, I found that he was the Prime Minister of the State. You must have relatives very far away to get a letter sent from South Elfrica.¡±

    D?bereiner was not the only cultivator who received the letter. Jan, cross-referencing the various scientific journals procured at Port Natal with the help of hired translators, was able to understand the contents. Secondary School Chemistry was leaps ahead of current society¡¯s Chemistry, so he could see the connections that men cannot. He connected them, linking the works of those who could be merged to create a breakthrough. Letters like these were sent to all the cultivators, which ended with the name Andries Pretorius.

    Why use the name Andries Pretorius instead of his name? Well, it was a campaign to win the hearts and minds of the intelligentsia of the various European states. The Natalia Republic is unrecognised, so by using Pretorius'' name he could sow the Republic¡¯s name in the minds of many.

    Unfortunately, the cultivator scientists thought differently. With further research digging about Pretorius¡¯ background, they discovered that he was a simple farmer. That led them to think, how did this farmer become a cultivator? Is he secretly a grandmaster? Is he looking for disciples? They kept digging and networking amongst the people that the letters directed them to. And as Jan predicted, breakthroughs were made.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The Boer watched the passing caravans and sighed. It was a shitty job. Sit in the hot sun. Luckily, his superiors kindly allocated him a spot under a tree. Still, it was boring. He was an insurance agent, and he got a commission for every sale he got. Unfortunately, every merchant he talked to rejected his offer.

    It was sent up to the chain and he expected to get fired. But a new assignment came in. He was to collaborate with a couple of Zulus coming over on this day. First, he didn¡¯t want to do so. There was only him, and multiple Zulus were coming. He was afraid of them not collaborating and giving him trouble.

    But if the current situation goes on, he ain¡¯t making money. And he got to go back to farming. Grumbling about the lack of increased income in the urban areas, he finally spotted the Zulus.

    It was an entire Impi! And they were charging down the hill! He readied his firearm but realized it was pointless since every one of them held firearms by their side.

    One of them came up to him, asking in Elfrikaans, ¡°Are you the¡­ insurance agent?¡±

    The Boer nodded blankly.

    The elf stretched his hand out and the Boer shook on it.

    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the plan. We¡¯ll be attacking the next uninsured caravan.  Once we¡¯re done, those merchants will come fleeing in your direction, that¡¯s when you do your job. Understand.¡±

    Never in his life did he expect to take orders from a Zulu, but considering how heavily outnumbered he was, he could only meekly nod.

    And then the whole Zulu Impi stormed off, leaving him in dust. He looked at their foot that was bare and confirmed once again that they were the fearsome Zulu. Crazy bastards who could outrun any of them.

    So, he sat back at his booth and grumbled about the Elfrican sun, whilst sitting around the tree. To occupy his time, he counted the number of caravans passing through. One, two, three. Most of them were English, few were Boer. All of them are uninsured.

    He tried to remember the scant instruction he was provided with.

    ¡°Call out to the caravan and harass them, asking if they want to buy insurance,¡± His superior ordered. Whilst he enthusiastically did that at first, being rejected all the time made him mope about.

    A couple of minutes later, an empty caravan came from the other direction. The Boer became perplexed. Most caravans stocked goods at Pietermaritzburg and dumped them at Potchefstroom. They¡¯ll then resupply at Potchefstroom, usually ivory and animal skins before coming back to Pietermaritzburg to dump them.

    The English merchant wore a fine suit and looked at the booth. A big sign on top read, ¡®ZULU INSURANCE¡¯ in English. The merchant rushed towards him. The closer the merchant got, the more the Boer noticed the various scrapes the merchant had on his bodice. His clothes were dirtied and he seemed immensely furious.

    Seething in rage, he yelled at the Boer, ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I warned about the damn savage Zulu! I thought this route was safe.¡±

    The insurance agent took a deep breath and said what he rehearsed.

    ¡°It is mostly safe. But the Zulus do attack from time to time. Here at South Elfrica Insurance, we offer insurance to help you hedge your goods from the Zulu.¡±

    The Boer passed the policy to the potential policyholder. The potential policyholder baulked at the coverage of 50%.

    ¡°Why is the coverage so low? This is fucking bullshit!¡± The English merchant crumpled up the paper.

    The Boer began clearing his throat. It seemed he has a potential customer.

    ¡°Just for you sir, I can modify the coverage to 80%. The company allows us to modify it to suit our customers'' needs. However, do note that premiums will be higher. I¡¯m sorry I got you the entry-level policy. Here is the 100% coverage policy.¡±

    The Boer handed the policy that covers goods. Dubbed as Life Insurance for Goods, it covered the full cost up to 100%.

    ¡°We can take monthly or annual payments. Or better yet a lump sum. It will help hedge your goods against a potential Zulu attack. We cover all attacks along the route between Potchefstroom and Pietermaritzburg. If you stray too deep into elven territory, I¡¯m very sorry sir, but we¡¯ll not be covering that.¡±

    ¡°Is it insuring on a single trip only? Because I will be procuring more goods at Potchefstroom. Does it also cover that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not sir. You will have to buy another policy in Potchefstroom. How, just for you sir, we got VIP insurance called merchant insurance. We will cover any losses made along this route. It¡¯s lifetime business insurance. We accept payments monthly as long as your company is still in business.¡±

    The Boer produced the company policy for the merchant. And this time, the merchant baulked at the absurd premium.

    ¡°This premium is insane! I wonder who would pay this kind of price!¡±

    ¡°We do have some people who pay for it,¡± The Boer lied, looking away from the merchant.

    ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯ll head back to Pietermaritzburg. Your company has an office there right?¡± The merchant clarified, and the Boer nodded. The merchant continued, ¡°Great, I¡¯ll talk with them there instead of the hot sun out here.¡±

    And the merchant left, and still, the Boer was unable to sell any policies.

    Because of this scheme, Jan hashed out with the Zulu, they got to keep any of the goods stolen as long as he told them the caravans to attack, and many complaints were sent to the local Commandoes along the route. There were numerous requests to have them deal with the Zulu raiders. Yet, these complaints only came from English merchants, whilst the Boer merchants never had their caravans attacked. Most strange.

    Is he practising discrimination? Yes. But most of these English merchants were foreigners, and even if they made money, they won¡¯t reinvest them into the local Boer towns, they will send them back to their home in England. That is why, letting English merchants dominate the local economy is bad for business, and he needed to implement protectionist measures to give Boer merchants a chance.

    After all, they didn¡¯t even have the opportunity to do business since the English merchants filled every need. But with the sudden unexplainable shortages, Boer merchants rose to fill the gap. And their caravans were unmolested. Many of them purchase insurance from the only game in town, South Elfrica Insurance, after seeing how the numerous Zulu raids devastate English merchants.

    Soon enough, English merchants also procured insurance from his company after seeing how the Boer merchants were gaining market share. Unlike the insurance at Port Natal, it seemed to influence the number of attacks they faced from the Zulu. Jan was willing to eat a loss attacking insured English caravans from time to time. He needs to slowly dislodge the dominance of English merchants in the local markets to allow Boer merchants to fill the gap.

    Now, there were Xhosa and Zulu merchants. But they were a small minority. Most Zulu merchants didn¡¯t bother purchasing his insurance, because if there was any trouble, they would rather fight them off. It took him 5 seconds to think about whether he should dispatch men to attack their caravans before shaking his head. The Elfrican tribes won¡¯t be cooperative in this, and he didn¡¯t want to risk his men¡¯s lives harassing these caravans to get them to buy his insurance.

    But the Free Market! Let companies decide and the economy will be well! And let English merchants control the economy here in South Elfrica. Absolutely not. If they had their way, South Elfrica will forever be an agrarian economy, only exporting raw materials to European powers.

    The Free Market will not invest in factories here in South Elfrica. It was inherently unprofitable. An unskilled labour pool paired with the poor infrastructure made any business not want to invest in the region. It is possible for Cape Colony but try to sell the idea of investing in the Natalia Republic.

    At least the Cape Colony had British garrisons, but here in Natalia, to these businessmen''s minds, it was like the Wild West. Every man had to carry around guns. Hostile savages were right across the border. To give an analogy, it would be convincing a Western MNC to invest in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. No need to even bother explaining, they will immediately dismiss you.

    As the government, he needed to pave the way. He needed infrastructure so that goods can be transported. He needed a lot of immigrants to help build the infrastructure or work in farms and fields so that they won¡¯t be so reliant on the British. Then they can climb the value chain and focus on industrialization once agriculture is industrialized. With spare manpower, they can send them to the factories to produce.

    If he could assimilate the elves into the local economy, that would give him the head start, and he wouldn¡¯t need to burn funds to attract immigrants from Pietermaritzburg. But they didn¡¯t want to give up their old ways of life. The only way he could think of was to do exactly what the colonisers did, dispossess them of their land and force them into labour for sustenance. But even if he wanted to do that, he needed a lot more men to fight against thousands of elves. The best he could do was to convince the various elven Chiefs to participate in his modernisation efforts.

 Chapter 64: Industrialization

    ¡°Please, invest in a couple of machining workshops here,¡± Jan requested.

    The Belgian shook his head.

    ¡°Even if I do, who will purchase them? You might be wealthy, but the other Boers won¡¯t be able to buy my machines. What about the elves? If you want my investment, you need to show me that there will be demand for Belgian machines,¡±

    ¡°There is this English man I know, by the name of John Cockerill. He kickstarted the Belgium industry, but the war of our independence caused a bank run, and his company went bankrupt. He is looking for anyone willing to lend him funds so he can continue doing business. Perhaps he might be willing to start over in South Elfrica?¡±

    The Belgian explained and waited for Jan to argue his case.

    ¡°Look, our land surveyors have found iron mines. The Elfricans have iron. We have found a couple of iron. With iron and coal, we can fund local industry.¡±

    ¡°As I said, can your Boers pay in pound sterling? Or will they pay in cattle like the elves? As an investor I want profit. This is not a charity. You Boers have not developed a decent economy, nor the population numbers are enough to sustain any domestic consumption of machinery. How many do you have in your little Republic? Thousands. How many machines do you think they¡¯ll need? With their small plots of land, I doubt each family needs to buy one. I believe a machine is enough for a Boer district.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I want to order a hundred of your threshing and winnowing machines. I¡¯ll prove to you that the demand is there. I will profit as well,¡±

    The Belgian smirked.

    ¡°It is your money, not mine. If you wish to do so, go ahead, I am pleased to have such an eager customer.¡±

    Power is concentrated in the Elfrican Chiefs, in no way should he seek to remove and reduce that power. Why should he? The African National Congress sought to work with the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa instead of against them. It was not like he could corral the elves to do as he wishes. For he is human, and they are an elf. It was easier to deal with their Chiefs, who provided everything an elf needs in their tribe, thus buying that follower¡¯s loyalty.

    Thus, it made dealing with them easier. Go to the chief and if they agreed with you, they¡¯ll do as they say. He was going to wow them with the wonders of industrialization. Every neighbouring Elfrican Chief shall receive one of these machines to supercharge productivity in their tribes. And once they are wowed, then they will embrace the wonders of industrialization.

    Then the tribes would hopefully be integrated into the town¡¯s economy, and they¡¯ll begin to build up reserves of the pound sterling. The only problem was the Xhosa. Zulu authority was centralized. Xhosa? Decentralized. Even if he went to Queen Sarili and got her approval for whatever scheme, her subordinate chiefs would have to agree with it before it can be implemented. Funny enough, it was the same situation in the Natalia Republic.

    So, he had to work from bottom to up. Which is troublesome, and more expensive. Still, it was easier to play politics with a decentralized state to ensure they won¡¯t become a threat.

    It was an easy decision. Jan planned to send a pair of machines to Queen Mpande to suck up to her. She can consider his gift in whatever way she pleased, tribute or gift, it didn¡¯t matter. The presence of the machines in her royal court would be enough to influence the various Zulu chiefs on modernisation. Then, he would send the rest to various chiefs that supported Princess Cetshwayo.

    Was he backing the Princess¡¯ bid for the Zulu throne? Of course, but he didn¡¯t want to strengthen her position by too much. He needed to play both sides. He cannot have the princess seize power too easily. So, he would send the rest to the other chiefs supporting her rival for the Zulu throne.

    Then the issue was the Xhosa. There were too many small tribes. He doubted that the machines could be used to their full capacity. Pondering for quite some time, he decided to put his influence campaign in the Xhosa Kingdom in the backseat. Influencing every Xhosa Chief was a waste of resources. He should focus on Queen Sarili and the various Great Councillors running her kingdom. There was a Xhosa who distinguished herself during the Sixth Frontier War, a Chief known as Maqoma. She was extremely popular since she refused to cede land to the British, and many Xhosas shared the same thought. He wanted to open contact with her and get her assistance in the next Xhosa frontier war.

    He dispatched the bureaucrats, mostly Zulu and Xhosa to carry out the tasks.

    ¡°Here is a gift from a Boer,¡± The Zulu bureaucrat explained pointing at the two machines lugged over with the assistance of some hired Zulus.

    One thing that the Zulu bureaucrat noticed was that the rumours of their Queen gaining weight was true.

    A couple of Zulus squatted by Mpande¡¯s side and fanned her. By her side, her favourite husband sat beside her. Next to her favourite, her favourite daughter, Mbuyazi sat on a mat, watching the machines with curiosity.

    Mpande¡¯s royal palace was nothing as grandiose as the European palaces. It was a simple wooden enclosure, where wooden huts sat behind the outer wooden walls. Another wooden fence sat behind the huts, enclosing all of the cattle that the Zulus reared. This design was a bigger version of the typical Zulu village.

    The top end of the parade ground, opposite the fence to her palace, or ikhanda in Zulu, was an area where Mpande and her umkhandlu (royal council) would discuss affairs. No normal Zulu would be able to gain access here.

    Behind that was the royal enclosure, or isigodlo, and it contained all members of Mpande¡¯s household. Her husbands, her offspring as well as various servants serve her every need. Any Zulu who entered here without permission will be put to death.

    The machines were placed right before Mpande before her royal council.

    The Zulu bureaucrat was nervous. Here he was dressed in the Western wear of the Boers while his people all around him wore the clothing of his ancestors. Even if he wanted to change his clothes for the matter, this was an affair for Port Mpande¡¯s administration, so he decided to dress appropriately to represent that. He didn¡¯t come on the behalf of another Zulu Chief after all.

    His trusty gun was confiscated at the entrance. He wondered if he would get it back. It was likely he wouldn¡¯t. Some bastard likely took it for himself.

    The Zulu bureaucrat demonstrated the machine with a couple of bureaucrats, mocking the same presentation the Belgian gave to Jan and his Veldkornets.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Mpande silently nodded, intrigued with how the machinery would help during harvesting season. She turned towards her favourite daughter, Mbuyazi, and waited to hear her opinion.

    Mbuyazi, reflective of her youth, had nothing to contribute, so she turned to her royal council and waited for inputs.

    ¡°Seems like Boer witchcraft,¡± One of her council members remarked and the rest nodded their heads with her.

    ¡°It might be a curse. It would curse any Zulu who used it. I know those Boers want our lands. It is very much possible.¡±

    Mpande turned to look toward her abathakathi (witch) and waited for her input.

    Her abathakathi approached the strange contraption and knocked on it. The sound of sonorous metal vibrating was returned.

    ¡°If you ask me¡­ I cannot sense a curse on it. Perhaps there might be Boer witchcraft on the machine, I do not know. I am not familiar with Boer witchcraft.¡±

    ¡°It would be a waste to not use such an interesting machine, my abathakathi. Can you purify the machine of all potential Boer witchcraft?¡±

    The abathakathi walked a circle around the device, taking no notice of the nervous Zulu bureaucrats. They almost had a heart attack. They could have died if the abathakathi deemed any sort of witchcraft on the machine! They must demand hazard pay from the Commando for this trouble once they head back to town if they make it back alive.

    ¡°I will do my best.¡±

    ¡°My mother, I respectfully disagree. We should destroy this device. Your Council may be right and Boer witchcraft might be in this contraption,¡± Mbuyazi spoke up.

    Heads were turned to Princess Mbuyazi, who peeked at the nods of approval from the various members of Mpande¡¯s council.

    The Zulu bureaucrats began planning their escape. Fuck traditions, they want to live! If they must run through places where there aren¡¯t allowed to live, then they would do so! They can beg forgiveness from their ancestors later.

    ¡°Very well. My daughter if you think so. But as I¡¯ve said, I believe it is a waste. If any of the Chiefs wish to take the contraptions back with you to your tribes, you may do so.¡±

    Things were very different on the Xhosa front.

    The Xhosa bureaucrats bribed her Great Councillors with machinery. And unlike the Zulu, they have been repeatedly bullied by superior Western firepower. Thus, they had more appetite to undergo modernisation efforts.

    Queen Sarili was introduced to the device with benevolent Councillors. The Xhosa bureaucrats stood around unsure of what to do as the councillors did the selling on their behalf.

    ¡°These are English machines, right? How did you get them? Did you steal them?¡±

    Queen Sarili frowned.

    ¡°No, my Queen. Boer,¡± A Xhosa bureaucrat explained.

    Everyone in the Xhosa royal court was silenced.

    The settlers in the Eastern Cape constantly sent demands to the Cape Colony for the conquest of more land from Xhosa''s hands. They have even conducted numerous cattle raids, on the justification that many of their cattle were stolen. Whilst it was true cattle were stolen, it was innocent Chiefs who were caught in the crossfire.

    Andries Stockenstr?m, in the aftermath of the Sixth Frontier War, implemented a treaty system. There will be no further expansion into the Xhosa territory. Nor will cattle raids be carried out by any man. Ambassadors sent by both sides would discuss matters before deciding on a resolution. The Xhosa Chiefs upheld the system and returned any cattle stolen.

    But who were these settlers clamouring for land? Boers, descendants of the Dutch settlers who settled in South Elfrica.

    Sarili snorted derisively.

    ¡°How interesting. The ones who clamour for our land and complain constantly about their cattle being stolen come to send us a gift? Perhaps the Boers would cede the territory they¡¯ve stolen from us.¡±

    The settlers made interesting statements which various Xhosa envoys noted down.

    ¡°The appearance of the country is very fine, it will make excellent sheep farms."

    Any of those settlers who saw her now would likely be shocked. On the surface, she put up an amiable expression to the white settlers. But deep inside, she deeply resented the greed of the humans.

    Many Boers trekked North towards the Natal. And thus, they were now a Zulu problem. Sarili was most satisfied with the headache the Boers up north caused for the Zulus. The chaos caused by Mfecane was a deep scar in the psyche of many of her followers. She found that it was suitable karma, for all the trouble the Zulus in the North caused.

    That left a mostly Anglo community of settlers left in the Eastern Cape. Many of them were settled in the region by the British government. And they and their religious leaders made very interesting statements.

    ¡°The British race was selected by God himself to colonize Kaffraria"

    Oh, she very much wished to have those Anglos slaughtered, but she could only hold back her temper and sigh due to the powerlessness of their situation. They have been stockpiling weapons in case of another war. But gunpowder was limited, and the guns were outdated. They were better off fighting with their spears than going toe to toe in a gunfight.

    ¡°Which Boer? Hardly any of them left in the Eastern Cape. All ran away.¡±

    The Xhosa bureaucrat explained, ¡°It is a Commando located in the North. His name is Jan Boddewijk and he would like to deepen ties with your majesty,¡±

    Sarili remembered the Boer¡¯s name so that she could put it on her backlog of humans whose necks need to be snapped. But she calmed down, and saintly nodded.

    ¡°That is good. But get our war doctors to purify the contraption. I don¡¯t know whether they have any witchcraft in this device.¡±

    Luckily, unlike the two majesties, especially the very scary-sounding report from the Zulu bureaucrats, Nokuthula was more amiable.

    ¡°Are you sure there isn¡¯t any Boer witchcraft in this contraption? I am very suspicious. Why are you giving us a gift?¡±

    She stared at the device, trying to decipher any signs of Boer witchcraft tainting the machinery.

    Nevermind then, she was like the rest.

    ¡°If you won¡¯t accept it as a gift, then I can also accept payment. Hand over some cattle.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t I be a fool then if there is truly Boer witchcraft? Aren¡¯t I paying for my poison?¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want it, I can give it to someone else. Ok. I can give it to Pretorius. I can give it to Potgieter. So do you want it or not?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get abathakathi to prevent any of your Boer witchcraft to trigger on this device.¡±

    Jan frowned.

    ¡°Why do you think we have witchcraft or whatever nonsense you believe in?¡±

    ¡°Do Boers not have witchcraft? Almost every Elfrican tribe has a witch. I am surprised that you Boers lack them.¡±

    Jan decided it was best to save his breath. No need to argue with someone who is firmly entrenched in their ways. What do those business lectures call it? Ah, cultural understanding. There seemed to be a cultural clash.

    Taking a deep breath, he asked, ¡°Ok, tell me what I must do to convince you that it doesn¡¯t have witchcraft. I can use the machine and demonstrate to you that it is perfectly safe.¡±

    ¡°No need. The spell might only trigger on elves. It will not affect humans.¡±

    He decided to not bother arguing any further and cut the meeting short.

    He reserved machines for Pretorius and Potgieter, as well as their respective Veldkornets, to curry favour with them. This time, he dispatched Boer bureaucrats to ensure that they will be best suited to understand how to integrate the machines into their harvesting processes.

    For the bureaucrats heading to Potchefstroom, he specifically tasked them into finding out the effectiveness of the exported opium in inducing addictiveness in the Boers in Zoutpansberg.

    ¡°Here are some farming machines that will help with the harvest,¡± The Boer bureaucrat presented to Pretorius who nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯ve kept up with the developments in agriculture during my time in the Cape. Could you help me thank your Commando on my behalf?¡±

    Pretorius shook his head.

    ¡°Nevermind, I shall personally pen a letter to thank him.¡±

    Potgieter stared at the contraption. Like the elves, he was unsure of what to make of it.

    ¡°So, these are the farming machines that many Europeans are using huh?¡± He remarked after watching the demonstration by the bureaucrat.

    ¡°Yes, it makes the harvesting much easier. Your men will be pleased with the improved speed of the harvest. We also have more for the various Veldkornets. I hope you would accept this gift sent by our Commando,¡±

    ¡°Of course. Thank Jan on my behalf for gifting me such wonderous machines.¡±

    ¡°One more thing, how goes the exported ¡®tobacco¡¯ to Zoutpansberg?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ about that. I was wondering when the next shipment would come,¡± Potgieter smirked.

    Weakening the Zoutpansberg inhabitants was in his interest. After all, the man himself wanted to directly secure the gold fields there. Drug-addicted men made for poor soldiers after all. He could cut their supply at the last minute before striking at Zoutpansberg.

    ¡°Next shipment on its way. Recently procured from India. It is also insured.¡±

    ¡°Heh. I have received many complaints from English merchants about being attacked by Zulus on that route, is your Commando involved? For some reason, Boer merchants are unscathed.¡±

    The Boer bureaucrat shrugged his shoulders.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

 Chapter 65: Mining Accident

    The elf behind him filled up his cup with more sour milk. It was tangy, and its consistency is thicker compared to its regular counterpart. Bananas and pineapples were placed on the table, procured from a local Zulu orchard. He was urged to enjoy the flavour.

    It was nice to be treated like this. It was almost as if he was treated as a colonial master. The drink would have to be changed to tea, and the one sitting across him should be grinning amiably at the workers working before them. But she was frowning, at the slow progress.

    The German rats who once served through either land surveying or mining rebranded themselves as consultants, and they were watching the overall operation of the construction of the mine. The deposit was special. It wasn¡¯t gold, mind you. It was iron, the lifeblood of industry.

    His Zulu partners weren¡¯t willing to disclose where they sourced their iron, so they could only rely on finding a newly found deposit. Fortunately, they found one. Unfortunately, it was in Zululand. Thus, the excavation had to entirely rely on the cooperation of the Zulus.

    Jan didn¡¯t like the reliance and growing dependency of his industries on the Zulus, but there wasn¡¯t much he could do. There was no way he was climbing the value chain with their small numbers, thus the thousands of Zulu workers the Zulu workforce could provide were necessary.

    It was a chain binding the two parties, making decoupling more painful. And it should be expected. For once the Zulus squeezed the Boers for their usefulness, they will be the ones who would be dispossessed of their land, for they held all the cards. And his goal was to not let them realize that.

    Iron, or Fe, is the most common element of Earth at 32.1%. It is right before the second most common element, Oxygen at 30.1%. Iron in its pure state is raw in the crust, and its commonly obtained through meteorites. But its presence as ore is common.

    Thus, it must be smelted. Since the iron age was thousands of years ago, humans had a long tradition of smelting iron. One¡¯s kilns must reach 1,500 ¡ãC, 500¡ãC more than what is needed of copper.

    The earliest iron is known as wrought iron which is an iron alloy with a carbon content of less than 0.08%. It was known as wrought iron, for it is worked while it is hot to remove the molten slag.

    The next is known as cast iron, which has a carbon content of more than 2%. Due to this, its melting temperature is low compared to its wrought counterparts. Many tools are made from the more brittle iron, as it is more malleable and easier for blacksmiths to work with.

    So one may ask, what exactly is steel? Steel is iron that has a higher carbon content than wrought iron, around 0.35%. Famous applications include the Damascus Steel used by the Persians which is now lost to history. No one knows how it is made, but its legends claim that it can cut hair falling on its blade or even hack a rifle in half.

    Steel was the ultimate good of modernity. To see the strength of a nation, was to see its steel production. The agrarian Soviet Union and China saw it as a priority to build up steel production through numerous five-year plans. How can they not? For steel was used in everything at that time. Construction, tools, ships, planes, cars, tanks. Everything that is mentioned today likely uses steel.

    The only issue was, no matter how Jan saw it. Even with the cooperation of everyone in South Elfrica, there was no way they could compete with European Great Powers in steel production. The United States, Great Britain, France and Germany already have developed industries in iron, thus they could be upscale to powerful steel industries. Thus, their steel will always be cheaper than South Elfrican steel.

    However, that is assuming that transportation costs are null. And that globalization has taken place, where trade barriers are down. But trade barriers are up, and protectionism is common. In this era where transportation takes weeks, it was no wonder every nation sought to pursue domestic steel production.

    Of course, once the age of globalization begins, he could expect to see the shuttering down of most of these steel industries. Hopefully, then, South Elfrica¡¯s would still survive.

    ¡°I want most of the iron from this mine,¡± Nokuthula explained.

    Jan shook his head, whilst finally understanding why he was treated like this. This wasn¡¯t a request; it was a demand.

    ¡°Absolutely not. What will you do with them? Smelt them into spears? What a waste of iron.¡±

    ¡°The iron here will have many Zulu Chiefs fall under the Princess. I must secure this iron. If you wish to get your iron, obtain your deposits in the land our Queen has provided you.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, he analysed the situation. It was frustrating that she was unwilling to hand over the iron, choosing to completely nationalize it for herself. But iron was precious, crucial to the war efforts of the numerous Elfrican tribes scattered in South Elfrica. It made sense why she placed such strong importance on it. But he absolutely cannot let her turn them into spears and tools when they are a good of national importance!

    ¡°At the very least, hand me a small portion of the iron mined. I do not ask for a lot. I wish that you adhere to our agreements made regarding the Cetshwayo Mining Company and that my men and I are allocated the proper share.¡±

    Nokuthula sneered.

    ¡°What have you Boers done or contributed? You sit around like landlords taking taxes when you haven¡¯t even lifted a finger to help in the construction. Everything was done through Zulu labour. The men mining it will also be Zulu men. So, I ask, do you think you deserve even a share of the minerals?¡±

    Jan¡¯s lips curled up.

    ¡°Since you are like this, then I believe you do not need our expertise. Very well, you can receive the yields you deserve.¡±

    He gathered the rats and the few men and left Zululand altogether.

    ¡°Sir, are we just going to leave like this?¡± Eilert Biermann, ex-owner of the German Mining Co now renamed German Mining Consultancy, asked.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Do you see your labour as something worthless, willing to still work for free when you¡¯re unpaid? Tell me, what are the chances of an incident happening at the mines?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sir. I know our work hasn¡¯t been done since you had us leave halfway through the construction. A lot of parts of the area haven¡¯t been braced. I¡¯m afraid a collapse might happen if they aren¡¯t too careful while digging.¡±

    Jan paused, wondering if he should use the lives of Zulu workers as chips at the negotiating table. But why stop there? He already killed thousands by inviting the Zulus into the Free States, no need to pretend to be some hero who is unafraid of doing what was morally wrong. Sooner or later, one of those mines is going to have a mining accident, and there will be blood on his hands for constructing them. But what could he do? Every industry has its fatalities.

    ¡°I want you to keep your ears peeled and watch the happenings of the mines in Zululand. Once any of them collapse, do immediately report them to me. And by the way, I suggest getting prepared to rescue some Zulu miners from a mine collapse. There¡¯s no need to save all of them, all of them can¡¯t be saved after all.¡±

    Jan was casually skimming through various scientific journals from Europe. Imported from Port Natal, some of the merchants brought them to ship them to India since some of the colonial settlers there were interested in them. Through this, he was able to procure these precious journals. Also, since Port Natal was an international port. He could easily seek German, and French translators to help translate the journals into English.

    Whilst doing so, he was keeping track of the English garrison led by Captain Smith in Pietermaritzburg. Pretorius was bringing the man sightseeing. They went to Howick to sightsee the beautiful falls and interact with the local Zulu merchants. If he didn¡¯t know any better, he would remark that Pretorius was a good tour guide. Pretorius was likely buying time for him to make his preparations to hide Port Mpande.

    But there was no need to worry about Port Mpande being discovered. What are the British going to do? They¡¯re too busy downsizing the military, as well as focusing their efforts on garrisoning the Eastern Cape from the Xhosa. The home government was not willing to fund a frontier war. So even if Captain Smith found the port and demanded it to be submitted to British regulations, he could just dig his ears and pretended the captain said nothing.

    Bam! His office door was kicked open and a familiar German rat showed himself. Bastian Hanneke, owner of Ratrica Mining Co renamed as Ratfrica Mining Consultancy, showed himself.

    ¡°As you predicted, the collapse of the newly discovered iron mine.¡±

    ¡°Give me some time, I need to put myself in a sombre mood before meeting the Zulu Chief.¡±

    It was hard for him to not mock the displeased Zulu Chief. He wanted to smile, really badly. But there were thousands of Zulu hefting rock after rock from the interior of the mine that he was afraid of being impaled by a spear.

    ¡°I got an overview of the situation,¡± Bastian produced a map with graphite markings of the mine.

    A big cross was put in one of the tunnels.

    ¡°It collapsed here. Trapping about 12 Zulus. One of them was crushed by the falling rocks. Screams of help could be heard from the Zulus busily shifting the rocks. We got 14 days to rescue them. I would be sure of that estimate if they were human, but they are elves, so I do not know.¡±

    ¡°Get them out of there, immediately!¡± Nokuthula demanded.

    ¡°Your current method isn¡¯t the safest. A mine collapse could lead to another. Sending lots of men in that death trap is a horrible decision. Nonetheless, my plan is¡­,¡± Bastian put a cross on the surface of the soil. He then dragged the pencil to the opposing side of the collapse.

    ¡°The plan is to get my men and dig here. 10 days in the best of conditions. We can¡¯t use machinery even if we had them because it might trigger another collapse.¡±

    Bastian thought of requesting compensation and looked towards the Boer. The Boer nodded and the rat got to work. They were setting up equipment on the spot and started unearthing most of the soil before hacking through the stone.

    Storm clouds could be seen in the distance, and Bastian sighed. If it rains, the soil will become mud, and some of it will flow into the excavation site. It will become dangerous to his men. It was likely the Zulu operation of passing the rock down the line would have to be put on pause as well.

    The two groups sat together under a shelter constructed by some Zulus. Nokuthula seemed depressed, moping about as she realized she was powerless to rescue those men. Yet she seemed hopeful that they could be rescued.

    But in the Boer shelter¡­

    ¡°As I said, it is in the best of situations. Elven bodies are also made of water, so they need to hydrate themselves as well. By the end of 3 days, I expect the deaths of those with weaker wills. By the end of 10 days, they will be barely clinging to life. 14 days, good as dead. We¡¯ll have to shovel out the mud before we can continue the dig.¡±

    Jan became pessimistic and thought they were as good as dead. 14 days of being stuck in cramped conditions while hoping for rescue sounded horrible. Those men better start praying to whatever gods they believed in to strengthen their wills for the coming days.

    Quickly realizing he was useless, he left and let the experts carry out their duties. Now, this event would likely bring Nokuthula back to the negotiating table. If she didn¡¯t want to negotiate, well, he didn¡¯t want to escalate this any further. But if he had to, a little sabotage never hurt anyone. Like when the Americans hacked the Iranian Centrifuge using Stuxnet, he didn¡¯t want to do the same.

    A few days later, the results were out. Zulu manpower prevailed and was able to luckily unearth the rocks and rescue the men. Of the 12 buried alive. Seven perished, one of them instantaneously crushed during the fall. Five were still alive but in critical condition. Zulu Sangomas were busy treating them.

    ¡°As long as an incident like these never happens again, I am willing to renegotiate the dividend of the iron mine.¡±

    Jan smirked. The ball was in his court. It was likely no Zulu was willing to work in there unless the Boers worked their witchcraft and blessed the mine from collapsing.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be able to guarantee the prevention of any future collapses, but we¡¯ll do our best. 50-50 split of all iron yields. You can do whatever you wish with your share. I can do whatever I wish with mine. Isn¡¯t that good?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not! What about the agreements we made about the Joint Venture? Wasn¡¯t it a 70-30 split?¡±

    ¡°Since you tore up that agreement in this mine, shouldn¡¯t such consideration be void? I will be generous. 60% of all the iron goes to the Zulu, and 40% shall go to us. Consider the additional 10% a penalty for withdrawing the agreements made.¡±

    Nokuthula ground her teeth.

    ¡°Very well. But if the mine collapses, we¡¯ll be going back to the original 70-30 split. Consider it a penalty for breaking the agreement between us.¡±

    The incident further reaffirmed his distrust for the Zulus. He needed something, something that will constantly force them to back down if they ever wanted to escalate into a fight. Nuclear weapons were out of the question. Realpolitik was the only answer.

    The Zulu had many enemies. After all, conquering all of your neighbours around you only brought animosity. For when you assimilate numerous people into your group, your neighbours would know that the same would be done to them no matter how friendly you seem.

    The deal creating Zulu expansion into the Free States forced many of their old enemies who were relieved by the decline of the Zulu Kingdom to act one more. The coalition between Sotho, Tswana and Xhosa tribes was good. But Jan couldn¡¯t afford to tear up all relations with the Zulu and throw their lot with the coalition. So, he needed new enemies for the Zulus, to bog them down.

    Luckily, there were many. Many of the tribes the Zulus assimilated instantly bolted once they had the opportunity to do so. Queen Mzilikazi and her Matabele ran once she had the chance. Some fled from Shaka¡¯s armies. A powerful state rose in the north known as the Gaza Empire ruled by Queen Soshangane. They were some of the refugees caused during Shaka¡¯s conquest, and they consolidated themselves in the North. Shaka had sent expeditions to crush Gaza, but her troops suffered from malaria and food shortages.

    Whilst the Gaza Empire might fear the Zulu Kingdom during Shaka, its main primary concern is regarding the neighbouring Portuguese. Whilst they fought with one another as Soshangane and her followers fled into the Mozambique region, they mostly began collaborating. After all, being a foreigner in other lands, the locals would not accept you as their new ruler.

    To consolidate its rule, Soshangane began entering the slave trade, selling all who resist them, the local Shona, Kalanga and Tsonga elves into Portuguese plantations. And with this wealth, she rewarded her followers, ensuring the stability of her Empire.

    Jan didn¡¯t particularly care about the Gaza Empire¡¯s affairs, so he did not want to intervene in that region. Nonetheless, a secret alliance would be good to surround the Zulu Kingdom on both sides.

 Chapter 66: Emancipation

    Slavery is inherently due to economics. If it is uneconomical to own slaves, or there are cheaper alternatives, slavery will not be used. In industrial economies, where an educated workforce is needed, slaves have no place due to their unskilled nature.

    What are some reasons slaves were used in the Cape?

    The VOC needed workers and thought of enslaving the local Khoikhoi in the Dutch Cape Colony, or Kaapkolonie. But the company made the practice illegal, seeking to cultivate ties with the locals, for they may endanger the Cape Town settlement. Thus, they imported slaves from outside the region, specifically the Cape Malay. They were far from home, and thus not as resistant to their Dutch masters compared to a Khoikhoi.

    After the numerous Khoikhoi-Dutch wars that disposed of the Khoikhoi, the free burghers, or men who the VOC allowed holding land contracted with the Khoikhoi to work on their pastures. Some of these men, tired of dealing with the VOC¡¯s policies in Kaapkolonie trekked further inland, away from company reach. They brought their Khoikhoi workers, known as servants, along with them. And together, they lived insulated lifestyles.

    Meanwhile, back in the Kaapkolonie, landowners who owned large tracts of land relied on slaves to cultivate their lands on their behalf. They were mostly imported either from Asia or from other parts of Elfrica. There was no point in owning a Khoikhoi slave, for they were resistant to their Dutch masters and could have easily thrived in the Elfrican heartland.

    At the onset of the British administration, the now Cape Colony, the population was about 26,720 people of European descent, a majority that identified as Dutch. Over a quarter identified as having German ancestry, and about one-sixth identified as descending from French Huguenots. Taking the number at its face value, assuming that the rest were of Dutch origin, about 15,586 were identified as Dutch. These people are known as Boers.

    According to the data of the period, there were around 30,000 Elfrican and Asian slaves owned by these settlers, and 17,000 Khoikhoi and San (Khoisan) elves working for them. The British disliked the practice of slavery, and thus tensions grew between the administration as well as the settlers.

    In 1828, Khoisan elves were granted the rights of citizens, giving them the same right to security and property ownership, that the white settlers had. This further alienated the settlers, who found the British out of touch with their way of life.

    And finally, in 1834, all slaves in the Cape Colony were freed with the abolishment of slavery. They were given rights on par with citizens, although some stayed on with their masters as apprentices until 1838. Most of the settlers who dealt with grain and wine production now had to deal with the lack of manpower to run their farms.

    So, they began packing their bags and leaving the Cape Colony. These trekkers or Voortrekkers left the Cape in droves, seeking to distance themselves away from the British administration.

    Around 12,000 trekkers made the trek, about a fifth of the Cape¡¯s Dutch-speaking population. This was a minority, as the majority who stayed behind were mostly urbanised. They considered themselves loyal British subjects and had a special appreciation for English culture. Those who left were mostly on the outskirts of the Cape Colony¡¯s borders and were not as culturally influenced by the British.

    The British thought of chasing after these trekkers and putting their boots against their throats, but the expense of doing so was ludicrous. What they were afraid of, was the chaos caused by the migration of these Boers that might lead to ramifications for the Cape.

    Chaos these Boers caused as they settled in the depopulation regions caused by Shaka¡¯s conquest. Piet Retief made a deal with Queen Dingane, Shaka¡¯s successor. But she did not uphold the agreement. Many Boer settlements were attacked in Natal.

    Andries Pretorius, who owned a farm in Port Natal and fought along with the trekkers in Natal during their exploratory treks had risen to the rank of Commandant-General of the Boer army. He was requested to avenge Retief. And at Blood River on 9 December 1838, or Ncome River, the Battle of Blood River was fought, massacring the Zulus with no casualties taken by Pretorius¡¯ party. Thus, they settled the land, founding the Natalia Republic in Natal.

    Meanwhile, in August 1836, Potgieter trekked to the Free States and worked with the local elven Chiefs to found a new settlement. A Matabele patrol attacked his party, seeking to steal their cattle, killing six men, two women and six children.

    Then again on 20 October 1836, his party was attacked by 4,600 Matabele warriors at the Battle of Vegkop. Under his command were 35 mounted Boers, and on Queen Mzilikazi¡¯s side, she had 5,000 of her warriors. He ordered his men to form a laager, where they surrounded themselves with 46 wagons. They fortified their positions, filling the spaces with thorn branches to prevent Mzilikazi¡¯s warriors to come through.

    They skirmished in the morning before Mzilikazi¡¯s troops advanced onto their wagons. With a firing rate of about four shots per minute, they fired onto the attacking Matabele. Somehow, they successfully fought them off, and none of the Matabele was able to get into the laager. 184 perished in that battle. Working with the other trekkers, they tore through Mzilikazi¡¯s settlements in Transvaal, sending her into Zimbabwe.

    Potgieter thought he could rest, but news from Natal about the attacks on fellow Boers had him riding to assist them. They were ambushed in an attack and the men in Natal blamed him for it even though he was not the overall commander, but a co-commander. His other co-commander, Commando Uys, perished in the battle. Understandably furious, he decided not to partake in any further fighting in Natal. He decided to settle in Potchefstroom, forming the Potchefstroom Republic.

    That was the political situation of the 1830s, leading to the current situation in the early 1840s.

    Were the elves to be considered equals?

    That was the question Jan was pondering. There was little use for slaves. Even if they could subjugate the surrounding elven tribes under their fold, he wondered if they could even control them.

    Then what about the Khoisan servants? Were they equals? But their name, servants, implied that they were inferior to the Boers. Enacting legislation to make them equals was an unknown. He wondered if everyone in the town would pack their bags and trek away.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The Zulus and Xhosas were considered equals, considering their power. Although they used technologically inferior weapons, their numbers more than made up for it. And Zulu participation in the town¡¯s economy was so prevalent, that evicting them would impoverish many of his men.

    Instead of going to the markets and looking for the British merchant who was willing to pay a good price, they began to look towards the up-and-coming Boer and Zulu merchants who could pay a decent price as well. Zulu workers toiled in his men¡¯s fields, and many industries involved Zulu labourers.

    Xhosa was a small minority, and he had difficulties integrating them in a town overwhelmingly filled with either Boers, Zulu or Englishman. Like Asians going to either Europe or the New World, they felt like fish out of the water.

    Jan was thinking that he might have to allocate some funds to better welcome the Xhosas smoothly into his town. That way, he could slowly reduce his dependency on the Zulus, giving him more leverage at the negotiating table.

    With little need for slaves due to the abundance of labour, and with amiable elves willing to work, he found to right to finally do what was needed. Yes, the abolishment of slavery. If any of the men still owned slaves or traded with them as they did back in the Cape Colony, then they can make do with a Zulu or Xhosa labourer.

    But doing so also indirectly promised something, and that was, the elves were equals to the humans, and that it was morally wrong to not perceive so.

    Like the British back in Cape Colony, he mulled over his decision. This was the can of worms he didn¡¯t want to open.  But ultimately, he decided that it should be fine.

    The Voortrekkers left the Cape because they did not want to serve the British administration. It should be fine if he enacted it, since he was Dutch, like most of them. If he was British, then they would start packing their bags. But since he had Dutch blood, and mostly identified as a Boer like the rest of them, he doubted there would be much unrest.

    Is it discriminatory? Well then, it would be like having a Japanese Emperor ruling over China. He didn¡¯t think it was discriminatory that the Chinese would rather serve a Chinese Emperor than a Japanese one. Just ask the current Manchus in Qing China what the Chinese thought of them.

    So, he pushed it through, banning slavery. No one complained. No one revolted. All was fine. It appears that he had entirely removed the need for slavery from Port Mpande, allowing this smooth transition.

    ¡°How should I be compensated for this?¡± His old friend Joren immediately headed to his office to demand an answer.

    ¡°I just see no need for slavery. Tell me, who can you enslave in the Republic? We have Zulus in the North, Zulus in the West, and Xhosa in the South. Enslave anyone, and we will be retaliated, hard. Pretorius would hang us out to dry. If you want a target, you can¡¯t do it in Natal, you must do it somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Then, what?¡±

    ¡°What else? Find something else to profit from. There is a new route between Pietermaritzburg and Potchefstroom. You¡¯re wealthy. You could make a killing on the route. Just be sure to buy insurance, the Zulus do attack the caravans from time to time.¡±

    Joren sighed.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s the end of our partnership. Some rising star you are¡­¡±

    The man left his office, leaving Jan to think about his next actions.

    The fellows in Zoutpansberg won¡¯t all be satisfied with opium. Not everyone smoked, so he shouldn¡¯t expect all of them to get addicted to his opium. That was why a more universal product is needed. Something innocuous, that does not let people suspect a thing.

    What is a pain everyone has? Why it is pain. Pain medications are something everyone ingests from time to time. Whether they have a fever or flu, they take paracetamol or Panadol to relieve the pain.

    Morphine relieves pain. But it is also addictive. Imagine the painkillers that were also addictive, ahh, never mind they exist as opioids.

    In the opium poppy, the alkaloids, a nitrogen compound are bound to poppy acid. The plant is crushed and mixed with diluted sulfuric acid, stronger than meconic. This is done again and again so that all the alkaloids are extracted into the solution. Using ammonium hydroxide (NH<sub>4</sub>OH) or sodium carbonate (Na<sub>2</sub>CO<sub>3</sub>), the alkaloids are precipitated and become solid. Then morphine is further extracted from the alkaloids, about 8-19% of the opium by weight.

    There was a rumour going around that morphine was less addictive than alcohol or opium by itself since a lower dose is used. Unfortunately, morphine is more addictive than either substance. Its prowess in addiction had it become a controlled substance in the future, but for now, that was the current situation of opium.

    Like how JUUL had an entire generation of youth addicted to their vapes, companies producing morphine were using the same line of reasoning. It was less harmful than smoking a real cigarette! But unlike vaping which might be ¡®healthier¡¯ than real cigarettes, morphine could get one addicted easily even with a small dose.

    That was the message he planned to sell to the dwarves and the Boers in Zoutpansberg. Smoke too much or drank too much? Did your wife leave you for another man? Well, don¡¯t worry, for morphine will kick you of whatever addiction you have. All you got to do is administer it to yourself every day or so and you¡¯ll be free. It¡¯s just that it is a lifetime administration of morphine.

    Although it was addictive, there was no one questioning its ability in pain relief. With a small dose, most pain could be relieved easily. Especially in a battle, the medics could easily administer morphine to the wounded and bring them back to the field hospital. So even if the scheme was unsuccessful, stockpiling a couple of morphine for medical reasons would be helpful.

    The Bengali listened carefully to his words and nodded his head. Jan handed the man papers on morphine production he scoured through numerous scientific journals for. They were translated into English, so the Bengali could easily comprehend his words.

    ¡°How¡¯s the sisal?¡± Jan asked after seeing the dirt with nothing growing out of it.

    ¡°It''s a difficult crop to cultivate. Progress is slow, like the opium, nothing is sprouting.¡±

    Then again, Neville Chamberlain tried to successfully run a sisal plantation in the Bahamas but failed, so this was not an easy crop to cultivate. As Journalist John Gunther wrote of sisal in 1953, "if it had not been for the fact that sisal is a difficult crop, there might not have been a Munich in 1939¡±.

    He slapped himself as he realized how foolish he had been. What is he doing trying to grow this stupid crop all by himself? Shouldn¡¯t he ask the experts of the land who have been cultivating crops on this land for hundreds of years?

    He sent the seed to Nokuthula and didn¡¯t receive a reply for many days, almost as if she didn¡¯t receive the seed at all. Wondering if she really didn¡¯t receive the seed or was just trying to waste his time due to her displeasure with the arrangements over the iron mine, he received a reply by the end of the week.

    On the paper, were instructions relating to Sisal cultivation. When he saw it, he wondered if the plant would mutate and destroy his entire estate if he followed the Zulu way. He figured it was petty, but the Zulu Chief was very petty, and it was within the realm of possibility.

    He reached the last part and realized why the Sisal was so slow. Three years! Three years before the plant fully matures and they could even think of harvesting it! Then what will the plantation do in the meantime? Wait for the leaves to sprout?

    Jan grew a little sympathetic to Chamberlain and somewhat understood his struggles running a sisal plantation.

    At the bottom of the letter, was some interesting contents.

    I know a shortcut. You have to hand over an additional 10% of the iron mine to me. Gift me numerous cattle, sacrificing some before I can share the secret.

    He felt that it was bullshit and crumpled it up and tossed it away. He was not going to believe the words in a letter.

    He went outside the town hall to the fence to see a sisal sprouting from the ground. It was mature, and its leaves stuck out from its stem like a porcupine. It was healthy and ready to be harvested.

    Jan looked towards the Zulus crowding around the Sisal, admiring the plant.

    ¡°Fucking bullshit,¡± Jan mumbled and went back to the town hall. Oh, he can wait alright, he will renegotiate this with the Zulus when he had some leverage on the negotiating table.

    As an upfront to his ideals, the Zulus began cultivating sisal, appreciating its toughness as a fabric. It began being used around the town, and clothes were sewn with it to reinforce the structure. All Jan could feel was his dreams of cultivating sisal were dashed just like Chamberlain when he went back to his father¡¯s estate in shame due to his failures.

    Better not hand them opium, he didn¡¯t want to know the knockoff effects opium would have on his Zulu partners. And he didn¡¯t want them to cultivate them like there is no tomorrow through whatever magic they had, because it is highly likely one of his men would get addicted to the substance, giving him a colossal headache. Or perhaps he should just accept it and let the Zulus cultivate them, focusing his efforts on turning them into morphine¡­

 Chapter 67: Morphine and Animal Testing

    The work was contracted out to Assegai Weapons, the Joint venture between the Boers and the Zulus. The contract was regarding the creation of a syringe that could administer morphine via injection. It was easier than forcing the wounded to ingest it orally if they were unable to swallow.

    The problem was that they won¡¯t be able to reproduce the modern syringe due to the lack of plastics, which made him think of procuring oil so he builds up a fractional distillation plant to filter out the various hydrocarbons.

    So, they substituted it with glass, which was incredibly fragile. They made it thicker, so it wouldn¡¯t break on drop. They could have the container out of metal, but they wouldn¡¯t be able to see the contents since the metal was opaque. The needle? Metal, and it can only be used once. He didn¡¯t want bouts of HIV and AIDs spreading among the locals. Another illness of colonialism.

    Assegai weapons were the most experienced in metalworking, after all, they made the safes in the local Central Bank of the town. A small needle shouldn¡¯t be too hard.

    It was a simple design, fill up the syringe with the liquid, and add a piston at the back to force the liquid out. Without the needle, it would be a typical syringe. Add a needle, and it would become a medical syringe.

    The Bengali had already prepared some morphine, extracted from opium procured from merchants whilst they cultivated theirs back in his estate.

    Jan picked up the prototype created by the cultivator and pulled back the piston, absorbing the morphine into the syringe. Once it was full, he added a needle in the front. And with that was the creation of South Elfrica¡¯s Pharmaceutical Industries. As he held the needle, he wondered what exactly he should do with it. Should he try it out? Not on himself of course. But he needed a test subject. It might kill someone with the dose he held in his hands, so he was hesitant about injecting it into someone. Mentally scolding himself for not diluting it beforehand, he placed the needle back down and looked towards the men and women looking at him.

    ¡°Any small animals to test it out on? Don¡¯t want to accidentally kill someone.¡±

    They shook their head.

    ¡°Alright then, I would like it if we could purchase some mice from the local merchants. I heard they cultivated lots of them as pets in China and Japan. We will begin breeding our mice for any future tests.¡±

    While waiting, he was thinking of capturing a primate and shooting it up with morphine. It was animal cruelty, but why wasn¡¯t it cruel to test them on mice? Is it because their whole purpose to be bred is to be tested? He decided not to become a crazy Victorian scientist with ludicrous unscientific experiments and decided to do it the proper way. He didn¡¯t want to create a situation like Rise of the Planet of the Apes.

    As the Chinese merchant explained when asked about procuring mice for breeding, ¡°Most mice mature at around 4-7 weeks. The younger they are, the fewer mice babies they make. Thus, mating is best at around 6-8 weeks.¡±

    He was advised to keep the genders together because if he isolated them, they would not breed until after 6-8 months. Jan was also advised to train any young mice to consume other foods other than their mother¡¯s milk, to make rearing them much easier. Grains, fruits, and seeds are some examples of decent food.

    Jan decoupled the syringe-making division away from Assegai Weapons and had it spun off into a separate company. However, he didn¡¯t want the Zulus involved in Pharmaceuticals. Like how Pharmaceutical Companies kept their secrets close, he didn¡¯t want to share the profits. Plus, it won¡¯t be exactly a pure pharmaceutical company, it may be involved in weapons manufacturing, of the chemical kind.

    There they began their own mice breeding programs. But he was impatient and bought a mouse from the merchant. Looking at the mice squeaking in his hands, he carefully hovered the needle against its skin and wondered if he should do this. At this kind of dose, it was likely fatal.

    He began diluting the morphine mixture even further and told himself mentally that he was going to shove the needle a little bit. But no matter what he did, he couldn¡¯t push the needle against the mice.

    ¡°Fok it!¡± He pierced the needle against the mice as the mice squealed. With a little push, he injected some morphine into the mice. He then slowly pulled the needle away.

    Like the nurses who injected the COVID-19 vaccine, he grabs a piece of fabric and presses against the wound, trying to suppress the bleeding. All this while the mice squealed. But its squeals became softer and softer. The mice began dazing away, and he thought he could see the mice seeming to smile.

    Welp, he created an addict, he wondered how the withdrawal would work. He had the men isolate the mice away from others, not wanting this tainted breed to mix with the breeding stock.

    There in isolation, he pretended to be a scientist and jotted down the various observations.

    ¡°It¡¯s as if you¡¯re a cultivator. Do you need a pill or two to cultivate your knowledge?¡± A cultivator came up to him while he was jotting down his observations. He shook his head, and the cultivator left him be.

    He did this for about a week, injecting doses into the mice once a day while observing the creature. Day by day, the mice began eating less and chose to lie on the ground, deciding to not move. It barely reacted to his prods, and he wondered if it was dead.

    The next week, he stopped the doses. This time, the mice began reacting. Every time he came to observe the mice, it would look up at him and squeal energetically. It always looked at the empty needle, as if begging him for a dose or two.

    But he decided not to give it to carefully watch the mice. A couple of days later, the mice expired, and he had to clean up the body. At some point, the mice stopped eating. The mice stopped moving. Every time he raised the empty syringe, it started moving.

    He left it alone and it perished.

    Jan decided to try to see what happened if he tried to overdose the mice. Asking one of the men of Boer Pharm, they gave him a mouse. This time, he was a little sad about wasting all this pure morphine on a good mouse. It would fetch a decent market price, but he was curious.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Most of the scientists, or cultivators, of this time, experimented with their own bodies. He wondered if he was one of the few that experimented using animals.

    Shoving the needle, he sent an overdose into the mice. The mice quickly became unconscious. Its squeals were slurred, and it began to sleep. It began spasming at the same time. And he looked at the mice while jotting down observations, it seemed the creature was in bliss. It lost consciousness. He let the men manage the rest.

    The next day, Jan came over to observe the mice. It was still unconscious, but it was still breathing.

    He came again the next day, and it was still unconscious. Jan hypothesised the mice was in a coma, effectively dead. He doubted the creature would wake up.

    A few days later, like its addicted brethren, it perished in its eternal sleep.

    At some point, an idea came into his head. What was he doing trying to figure out the right dose? Shouldn¡¯t he just copy the doses that German companies producing morphine were using? Then he wouldn¡¯t have to slowly experiment one by one. Because, clinical trials were needed, and he didn¡¯t want to get one of his men addicted. Or one of the elves addicted, God knows what will happen if he got an Elfrican Chief addicted. He was sure their relatives would come to him to purify her using their Boer witchcraft, and all he could do was shrug his shoulders.

    He didn¡¯t bother to wait for the opium of his estate to finish growing. With the ongoing Opium War, opium was cheap, so he bought them in bulk and had Boer Pharm turn them into morphine. Even if they didn¡¯t need this much morphine, European governments would stockpile them for military applications. There was also the domestic front, where people will use it to treat their pain.

    He also set aside more fields to cultivate opium. Seeds were also cheap since many farmers were rotating their crops to other crops due to the decreased prices of opium, so he bought them in bulk. This was all in preparation for the end of the Opium war which should be around 1842. Then he can dump them in China for money. Convert them to morphine and dump them in Europe for money as well.

    ¡®This was how it feels to be a drug lord heh?¡¯ He thought to himself. Funnily enough, if he did it back in the old world, he would be hanged. Because drugs destroy lives, it destroys stable families. It creates an addicted population that is wholly unproductive. Yet, Westerners expect other countries to be merciful to drug traffickers. Let¡¯s see how merciful they¡¯ll be when their relatives all become drug addicts.

    No matter how much the Boer leader could stall, Captain Smith grew ever more suspicious. Everywhere he went he wondered how the Boers could supply themselves. Even if they traded amongst themselves, from Pietermaritzburg to Potchefstroom, they won¡¯t be able to be entirely self-sufficient.  It does not explain the lack of trade between Port Natal and the Natalia Republic. It further enflamed his curiosity.

    If trade was so prevalent amongst themselves, why haven¡¯t they also prevalently traded with foreigners? Trade wouldn¡¯t be so vigorous or bustling if they were isolationists. He asked an English merchant to the chagrin of Andries Pretorius and got his answer. The Boers created a small port by St Lucia Bay.

    It was a free trade port where no taxes are to be paid, and trade can be carried out freely. It was rather small, that it was hidden away.

    As the merchant elaborated, ¡°I thought it was some smuggler¡¯s den where I would rough up. But even if the men carried their arms with them, law and order were somehow maintained. Men and women are patrolling the streets keeping order. And the order was very harshly maintained. A fine was levied if one¡¯s cattle were unable to keep in it and released its excrement on the ground.¡±

    ¡°What is the fine?¡± Captain Smith asked, amused with this little port.

    ¡°I believe it is about a pence for locals. But for foreigners, it¡¯s about two pence. I would complain about the discriminatory practices, but I don¡¯t trade in cattle.¡±

    Smith¡¯s eyebrows raised. Fining others for being unable to keep their cattle in check was rather harsh. But then again, he supposed it was better than accidentally stepping in excrement if he didn¡¯t watch his step.

    ¡°How is the Boer even able to enforce this?¡±

    ¡°I believed most of the local police force were either conscripts or volunteers. Most particular of all were that most of them were women and every one of them had a gun! So scary!¡± The English merchant exaggerated.

    ¡°Can the women even fight?¡± Smith asked.

    The merchant looked around, before whispering in his ear, ¡°I¡¯ve seen them get into a gunfight with those who tried to flee. But the offenders were quickly outnumbered as they were flanked from all sides. They got shot to pieces. I heard one of them couldn¡¯t walk due to a bullet in the spine.¡±

    Smith gulped. That was a rather detailed account.

    ¡°Captain Smith, I believe that the next town would catch your eye,¡± Pretorius interrupted but the captain brushed his words.

    ¡°I believe I know where I must go next. It was a delightful tour of your little Republic, Mr Pretorius. I¡¯ll be writing a favourable report to the governor. Rest assured I will fight the case for your Republic¡¯s independence to the best of my ability,¡± Captain Smith ditched the Boer leader and gathered his men.

    They rode off with the Khoikhoi Cape Mounted Riflemen, who behaved themselves appropriately, even if every Boer watched the Khoikhoi with suspicion.

    As for whether he¡¯ll support the Republic¡¯s independence, well, he was waiting for another war. It was hard to climb up the British military hierarchy without battles to prove oneself. A little war in the Cape where he¡¯ll be able to prove himself through the annexation of the Republic would surely lead to his promotion. He just needed to find an entry point to create a justification for war that the home government as well as the Cape governor would find acceptable. They will surely be back home by Christmas against these undisciplined Boers!

    They took a stop by the town of St Lucia to replenish their supplies and gather more information about the port by the bay.

    The town council greeted the captain and greatly enlightened him.

    ¡°We used to trade whatever we need at Port Natal. But with the port nearby, we do most of our business there,¡± One of them spoke up.

    ¡°Any hostile, or aggressive actions the Boers have conducted against you? Do let me know, and I will report it immediately to the governor!¡±

    They raised their hands as if to calm the captain.

    ¡°They have not done anything hostile. They once came over to our town and camped outside. We thought they were invading us, but they soon packed their bags and left us alone. A man was screaming though. He screamed both in English in Elfrikaans. His English was so poor!¡±

    ¡°Englishman, eh? Tell me, anyone went missing from your port recently? Could it be that the Boers kidnapped a British citizen?¡±

    ¡°Most of the people moved to the port. If I remember correctly, it¡¯s called Port Mpande. I probably butchered that. The local Zulus will be able to pronounce it better. So yes, a lot of the inhabitants that used to live here are gone. They packed their bags and moved North.¡±

    Smith tapped his fingers on the table in frustration. He thought he almost had a justification for war that he could justify to the governor, but it was now out of his hands again. Grumbling, he wondered how he could twist the information to portray the Boers as absolute villains to justify a British invasion.

    Boer kidnapping of English citizens? No, won¡¯t do, the governor would call for witnesses, and unless he bribed every man in St Lucia, he doubted they would back this claim.

    He left with replenished supplies and headed for a short distance to the mythical Port Mpande where he heard from a lot of people.

    The town also known as Port Mpande was divided into two districts. Zulu and Boer. A fence demarcated the two regions. According to many eyewitnesses, it was easy to tell which district they were in based on the architecture. There was a distinct lack of Zulu huts in the Boer districts, but you could find one or two commonly in the Zulu districts.

    The population was mostly segregated, but there has been some intermingling between the two. Rumours of Zulu and Boer marriages took place, but the witnesses only said they were rumours since they were never invited to one. There were even Xhosas who went there to trade, but they were an extremely small minority.

    The witnesses shared a tale where many Xhosa beggars were evicted which caused a steep decline in the number of Xhosa settlers, but most of them began trading in the institution known as the Natalia Securities Exchange (NSE). It was more of a conglomerate though, that served the financial needs of the local populace.

    ¡°Are you sure it was a Boer who did this? A farmer would not create a securities exchange or even an insurance company. I am heavily doubting your words, sir.¡±

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯m not lying. Their insurance packages are decent. The health one is good, with plenty of options. One could receive treatment with British doctors, Boer doctors, Zulu sangomas or Xhosa War doctors.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    ¡°Of course, take a look at this policy, it¡¯s a decent price right, would you like to take on this policy to keep you safe in South Elfrica?¡±

    Captain Smith crumpled the paper and flung it back at the stupid insurance salesperson.

 Chapter 68: Prostitution

    Prostitution is the engagement in sexual activity in exchange for payment. Sexual activity comes in many forms, whether it be sexual intercourse, non-penetrative sex, oral sex, etc.

    In the modern world, most prostitutes are female, and their clientele is male. And a majority of women will never choose to undergo such a profession if they have a choice.

    Some may view the practice as exploitation. Since women are fed into the system via illicit means such as human trafficking. However, others view it as a proper occupation, and that the practice should not be criminalized.

    Many countries had their own views on the matter. Legality differentiated from country to country, but one thing was for certain, one will never be able to crack down on the practice. Even if countries make it illegal, brothels will go underground, and business will carry on as usual. Although the lack of any regulatory frameworks makes it dangerous, and truly exploitative.

    Ever since the breakup of the Soviet Union, thousands of women from Eastern Europe enter the profession, via illicit and licit means. Thus, it is no different from an economic problem. And if women could live the lifestyles of a citizen in a developed nation in their home countries, no doubt they would forgo this profession altogether.

    There were rumours that the practice was taking place in the town, and Jan was thinking hard about his stance on the matter. Both sides had their points on the matter, and he could not outright dismiss them.

    For sure, he won¡¯t crack it down. It was too much effort for something extremely meaningless. He would rather keep the practice regulated. And to ensure the prevention of STDs, he would make it mandatory for all clientele and prostitutes to undergo health screenings.

    In what intervals? The best would be every day. But such measures would be intrusive and drive off much business in the industry. But did he want this industry to have much business in the first place? Too intrusive, and they¡¯ll look elsewhere to fill their needs. Perhaps the importation of women from less developed regions of South Elfrica.

    It¡¯s giving him a headache, so he decided to just copy over what his old-world nation did. His nation criminalized various activities related to the practice, but it tolerated a limited number of brothels to exist, knowing it can¡¯t crack down on the practice entirely. Every prostitute must undergo frequent health checks and carry a card alongside them indicating their health.

    The red-light district would be contained to a specific district. So that he and his bureaucrats could keep a close eye on them. Of course, he wanted to collaborate with the brothels there. If there were anyone who seek to challenge him and his rule, well, he could release their entire history there. Let¡¯s see what clout they would have left.

    The district was planned to be by the port so that dockworkers looking to be relieved of whatever tension they had could quickly get it done and over with. He placed the management of the project under Janneke Pongers, Head of Home Affairs. Since it involved women, might as well let women manage the project.

    ¡°This would be the first gun-free zone. I wish for fences to be put up around the district, where there are four gates where one can enter by. All guns will be confiscated through that gateway. You and your forces will be the only ones armed in the district, to prevent any trouble from breaking out.¡±

    ¡°Will the men be fine with their guns confiscated?¡±

    ¡°If they can¡¯t handle having their guns confiscated, they shouldn¡¯t be allowed entry.¡±

    To make Port Mpande an international hub of finance in Elfrica, first, the institution of gun-free zones should be created for business travellers. Imagine being someone in Europe who never entertained the idea of gun culture now having to bring a pistol with them whenever they went to a meeting. He doubted such a person could even focus on the meeting, more likely focusing on the semi-automatic rifles on their partner¡¯s shoulders.

    No one wanted to do business like that. And no MNC would be interested in going through such a hassle of equipping all their workers with guns before setting up a branch in the nation.

    Gun culture is very much prevalent in these parts. A gun is a necessary tool to keep one safe. But in modern times, it is problematic. Every time he goes on the Internet and sees the news about some shooting in America. It must be every week. It¡¯s like, we get it! Alright, there is a shooting every week, it¡¯s nothing special! If there isn¡¯t a shooting, there must be something very wrong that week.

    He wanted to get his citizens used to not having their guns by their side constantly. This was the first step.

    ¡°Jan, what if I see a friend¡¯s husband at the gates? Should I turn him away, or let him in?¡±

    ¡°You can deal with it in whatever way you see fit,¡± Jan shrugged, and Janneke smirked. Too bad for any man planning to commit adultery, he did not see any point in promoting such a practice.

    The district immediately ran into a problem after construction, and it was that no women wanted to serve in the district. Is that a good thing? Doesn¡¯t that mean their standards of living are so good that no one wanted to prostitute themselves?

    But the issue was that it was likely someone else would come in to fill the gap. Foreigners. Foreigners from not-so-wealthy nations. Normally, it was likely women will be trafficked over to fill the demand. But since the district is managed by women, he could not see that happening.

    Looking towards his desk in contemplation, it looks like this plan was a failure. He wondered if he should spend any more brainpower trying to fill the gap in the workforce.

    Elves aren¡¯t going to serve in such institutions. They owned the land, they cultivated it. No doubt, they are not going to lower their dignity and work there unless they were dispossessed from their lands.

    Nothing else to be added about Boer women. There were a lot of economic opportunities to be had, but none of them also want to work here. And they weren¡¯t willing to import women to fill the gap.

    He sat there in even deeper thought, wondering if he should scrap it entirely. Then what will the men do to relieve themselves? Well, they can only rely on themselves and their hands to do the work. He isn¡¯t going to traffick women to help fulfil their needs.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Scrapping the red-light district due to unfeasibility, he had the district rebranded into the business district. It was foreigners, such as English people from Britain interact with the locals in a safe environment. They didn¡¯t have to worry about a scary-looking gun by the Boer side, and they could relax. It was designated as the merchant district.

    No doubt, it would help negotiations if none of the men owned a gun. Everyone knew how one can quickly get angry very easily because humans are emotional creatures. And once they become emotional, they become irrational. One might read the news and think what he or she was thinking but he or she was thinking alright.

    It was a district dedicated to foreign investments. Want to set up a factory or a local business but didn¡¯t want to deal with the gun culture? Setup in there. Want to live without fearing for your life since your neighbour had a gun? Live in there. Want to have sexy times with the locals without pissing off their partners? Prepare to be shot.

    He handed over security to Janneke and female commandoes. The economic side of the district was handed to Russell. His task? Attracting foreigners to invest in the local towns. Who better to do it than an Englishman? If you¡¯re a rich foreign investor based in Britain, would you rather listen to the words of Boer riffraff or a civilized Englishman?

    He waited a week or two, and likewise, no progress.

    ¡°What¡¯s the issue with the business district? Why are there no investors?¡± Jan asked as he entered Russell¡¯s office.

    ¡°Every man I talked to would rather have their guns with them, especially in our town. They did not know whether they could trust the locals to keep them safe.¡±

    Jan smacked himself on the head.

    To any foreign investor, there would think Elfrica is a lawless land. If he asked them to invest in the district and not to bring their guns with them, wasn¡¯t he effectively asking them to get themselves and their men killed? And it was a Boer town, not even English, so they would think a dumb farmer was running it.

    It wasn¡¯t like he convince them that he had a huge police force, even if they were conscripted. The entire population was part of the police force whether they wanted to or not!

    ¡°Scratch that idea. Scrap it entirely. Leave it as a normal district. It¡¯s too modern for this era,¡± Jan shook his head and left Russell¡¯s office. Russell was left scratching his head in confusion.

    A couple of men on horseback from Pietermaritzburg reported about the British force heading their way. It was led by Captain Smith and British officers, paired with Khoikhoi elves from the Cape Mounted Riflemen (CMR). They were all on horseback and were equipped with carbines.

    Jan immediately ordered a mobilization, gathering all men and women in the town to grab their guns and get ready for a fight.

    In the town hall or the temporary command centre, he faced the three heads of his administration.

    Pietje Pongers, Head of Boer Zuid Elfrica Co?peratie, is in charge of the affairs regarding agriculture.

    Russell Corbyn, Head of Administration of Port Mpande, is in charge of the town¡¯s affairs.

    Janneke Pongers, Head of Home Affairs, is in charge of the local garrisons.

    ¡°What should we do? Doubt we¡¯ll be able to hide much,¡± Janneke pointed out.

    The three men furrowed their eyebrows but could only sigh in agreement.

    ¡°The captain will not have much authority here. Even if he ordered us to do so and so unless the British are willing to commit a permanent force in the region, there is nothing he could do,¡± Russell explained.

    ¡°So, we let this captain come and push us about? Why not take a couple of shots at his head?¡± Pietje remarked.

    ¡°The captain has Khoikhoi elves with him. Unless you want all our cattle to go into a stampede, it is unwise to pick a fight. If only Sarel was here, he could nullify this nonsense,¡± Jan rebutted.

    ¡°Cattle that betray me ought to die,¡± Pietje smirked.

    ¡°That what shall we eat?¡± Janneke complained.

    ¡°I do not want a fight. But we cannot roll over easily. If we¡¯re easy pushovers, the captain will interpret it as a sign of weakness,¡± Jan pointed out, and the three nodded their heads.

    ¡°Gather the men and let us parade ourselves to give the captain a warm welcome. Hundreds of us and 50 of them. Who ought to be fearful?¡± Pietje suggested.

    Jan looked to the various heads of his administration and none of them voiced out any complaints. Since no one else had something to offer, he decided to implement Veldkornet Pietje¡¯s suggestion.

    The four of them rode on their Cape Horses and greeted Captain Smith, who rode into town with 49 other men on horseback.

    ¡°I recognise you. You gave me the warm welcome when I went to Pietermaritzburg, claiming that the British government was weak. But you are, ordering your men into a full mobilization because I come for a little visit. I also see women also holding guns, could it be that your governance is that pathetic to rely on women to fight on your behalf?¡±

    ¡°Bold words coming from a man who entered someone¡¯s else land. You¡¯re asking to be shot,¡± Jan reached for his musket.

    Smith¡¯s men reacted likewise by raising their carbines at Jan. His three Veldkornets raised their muskets at the Smith¡¯s group, causing a chain reaction of the Boers in town to point their guns at Smith.

    ¡°Heh. Do you think I would be afraid of your little gesture? I know, you have no balls. A stupid farmer should know enough to not mess with the British Empire. If our merchants leave you be, in the next decade or so when we come back, we¡¯ll find you in no different state from the savage elves,¡± Smith slowly raised his carbine pointing at Jan¡¯s centre of mass.

    ¡°And I also know you won¡¯t be there to start a conflict over something as petty as this? Is this within your pay grade captain? To come to a start a diplomatic incident. Will the home government be willing to back you up if you start a war?¡±

    ¡°What do you know of the home government, farmer? You ran away from the Cape. Everyone in this town did. And you come and talk to me as if you know more about the home government than me! I am a loyal British citizen who served in the British army! Know your place, Boer.¡±

    Jan grinned and lowered his musket.

    ¡°Simmer down captain. I¡¯m tired of politics and this show we¡¯re playing. There¡¯s no appropriate audience to show your patriotism to here. Let us talk business.¡±

    Captain Smith lowered his carbine along with the rest of his Khoikhoi soldiers. The armed Boers lowered their muskets as well.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see that a Boer knows his place.¡±

    ¡°Tea, imported from India. I hope you would find them delightful,¡± Jan had a bureaucrat prepare tea for the man sitting across his desk. His Khoikhoi soldiers stood outside of the town hall, watching the Boers stare at these armed elves with suspicious gazes. The Khoikhoi were more worried about the Zulus looking at them from across the fence partitioning Boer and Zulu districts. Everyone knows of the tales of the fearsome Zulu, tales about them spread during their youths, during Shaka¡¯s reign of the Zulu Kingdom.

    ¡°Decent,¡± The captain took a sip and placed it back on the desk.

    ¡°So, captain, I must inquire about the purpose of your little visit today. What do you seek to accomplish in our little Republic? Apologies about the disorder just now, we do get a little agitated seeing a British force approaching our little town.¡±

    ¡°I will tell you the truth Boer since you served me a decent tea. I am here on behalf of Governor George Thomas Napier, investigating the cause behind the alarming decrease in trade between Port Natal and your little Republic. Lo and behold, I found the reason. It seems you have established a small port here.¡±

    ¡°Nothing wrong with establishing a port, right? This is an affair regarding the Natalia Republic. It should not be of concern to the British government.¡±

    ¡°Technically, true. But you are British subjects are you not? Even if you flee, you will still be a British subject. You little Republic would also technically come under our jurisdiction.¡±

    ¡°When somebody establishes an independent Republic, especially by those seeking to escape the authority of others, they seek to be independent. I¡¯m sure most men would revoke their status as British subjects if they could. What jurisdiction do you have over men unwilling to be under British administration?¡±

    ¡°But the tales I heard from British merchants differ from your account. Many Boers they have traded with requested for them to be treated like any other British subject and that prices ought to be favourable.¡±

    Jan shrugged.

    ¡°I believe I won¡¯t be able to convince you of this. So, let¡¯s talk about other things. Tell me, does the Cape Colony need any military supplies? Medical supplies like morphine for example.¡±

    ¡°You have morphine?¡± Captain Smith¡¯s face scrunched up his nose as wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

    ¡°I do know how to get them from the Germans in Europe. Do you wish for some? I can procure some supplies for the Cape Colony at a decent price. As a loyal British subject, I hope you would put in the good word for Governor Napier.¡±

    Smith smirked.

    ¡®If I obtained some morphine for Napier, perhaps he might put in the good word for my promotion,¡¯ Smith thought to himself.

    ¡°I might be interested. How much, and how many?¡±

    ¡°Depends on how many you need. I¡¯m not offering them for free. As a fellow British subject, I will offer the same prices that the Germans sell back in Europe. Is that satisfactory to you?¡±

 Chapter 69: WallStreetBets

    Gold is good. Gold is plenty. Yet too many are bad.

    The influx of gold from the New World caused rampant inflation. Gold from Spanish Armadas enriched the bank accounts of many, but the number of goods being produced stayed the same. There was no new industrial method that exponentially produced goods to keep up with the influx of gold, thus, the prices of goods rose sharply over the years. The era was known as the Price Revolution. Inflation was about 1 ¨C 1.5% a year, an incredibly low number in our current era, but for an era where currency was commodities or specie, it is high.

    Imagine a world where a farmer was able to earn more and more since the prices of their goods increased, but their production methods are unchanged. For example, let¡¯s say a farmer produces one cattle a year. It earns the farmer a single shilling. The next year, due to inflation, the farmer now earns 1.5 shilling. Good right?

    But one must also take into consideration, that the prices of goods such as bread and wine are also increasing. Assuming that the production is constant, things ought to be fine. But what about labour in the urban centres? By right, companies would adjust wages according to inflation.

    But did take that place? In our current society with high inflation, do companies give a 5-10% increment to employees year on year to account for this? Some may, but many don¡¯t.

    In the industrializing Port Mpande, many of these urban dwellers would pick up their ploughs and head back to their fields. There was plenty of lands to be had, and in a climate of increasing inflation, they would make more.

    Now imagine the same situation due to gold flowing from Zoutpansberg. Jan was very worried about inflation.

    In an era with no central banking systems, merchants played the role of central banks. When they gave out loans, they gave them out with high-interest rates to account for inflation. After all, this is so their profits would outpace inflation.

    With high-interest rates, fewer companies were willing to take out loans, and economic growth will slow.

    So there remained the question of removing the gold from local circulation in Port Mpande. To curb inflation the best he could, he needed an outflow. And there were many options.

    One would be the towns belonging to other Commandoes like Pietermaritzburg or Potchefstroom. He could dump the gold by purchasing various goods or currying favour with gifts of gold. That was one way, but a very short-term way. What if the Commando perished due to a hunting accident? Then what then? And it was a waste, for the gold would only reinforce the agrarian economy of the towns, moving inflationary pressures somewhere else. But since all goods had to come and flow to Port Mpande, the inflation would come right back.

    Dumping the gold into the local merchants¡¯ hands was easy. There were many luxury goods he could get to appease the local Boers as well as other Commandoes. But put too much money into their hands, and inflation would rear its ugly head and make the prices of everything go up. Due to his purchases lowering the supply of goods in the local South Elfrican economy, every Commando would have to deal with the decreased buying power of their funds and would all look towards him for trouble.

    Whatever outlet the gold went, it cannot stay in the British market. Because one must also think about the effects on the pound sterling. The Natalia Republic was reliant on the British market, reliant on the British currency. So, if he changed all the gold into pound sterling, increasing the supply of money, but the number of goods was unchanged, inflation would soon follow.

    He had a plan, like the Norwegians and the Saudis, he needed a huge outlet that wasn¡¯t the local town¡¯s economy. Some gold can be invested locally, but not all of it. What better idea than a Sovereign Wealth Fund? Buy a couple of stocks, invest in businesses overseas, and the inflation monster won¡¯t come after them in South Elfrica. By buying shares or useless trinkets such as crypto and NFTs, the inflation monster won¡¯t come as it slept in 2020.

    Unfortunately, since everyone in the Natalia Republic was mostly farmers with little experience in equities, he had to arrange for someone to look for a broker in Port Natal that was able to help him trade in the English stock market. No one was available, for Port Natal traded mostly in commodities.

    From the report of the bureaucrat, some brokers facilitated trading in Cape Colony, and he had to head to Cape Town. He supposed it made sense, British army officers from Britain were stationed there, and some of them probably played in the stock markets as well.

    He dispatched a bureaucrat with suitable funds to ferry himself from Port Natal to Cape Town and bring the broker for a consultation in Port Mpande. Funnily enough, if they were still dirt poor, they would likely have to undergo the Great Trek like the rest of the Boers. But they had gold!

    While waiting for the stockbroker to come, he came out with a scheme to remove the local gold supply. And that was with bonds. With the construction of the central bank, there was a safe space for gold to be held. And with that space, people could be assured when buying a bond that their funds are kept safe.

    The bonds he offered weren¡¯t going to have crazy yields. At most 2%, as a little encouragement for families to procure bonds. After all, you¡¯re going to make more the more it is kept. And just in case, he had discussed with merchants the possibility of loans if he couldn¡¯t pay back the interest.

    But it should be fine, since the supply of gold ought to increase, and he planned to raise taxes soon to fund the bonds.

    He wasn¡¯t accepting cattle. A bond market revolving around cattle would be a nightmare. Cold hard cash, or coin, or gold.

    These funds were special. Because instead of the merchants setting interest rates, he was going to set interest rates, because he was going to give out the loans. To be more accurate, they were more like grants. Since only locals investing in the Natalia Republic could borrow,  all funds from the loan are reinvested back into the local economy. The yields are likely low, but that¡¯s not the point. The point is that merchants won¡¯t provide farmers loans because it was likely they wouldn¡¯t do so without a credit score or any sort of relationship with one another. So, he had to step in.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    This paired with taxation would mean all the money would flow back into his coffers either way, and he would easily pay back the interests from the bondholders. If need be, he would scrape some from the sovereign wealth fund.

    Such schemes doubled the bureaucratic workforce, which led to more men and women having more gold in their pockets. Which led to him quickly thinking up a way to tax these funds out of their pockets to clamp down on inflation.

    What was a good number? He looked at all ten fingers of his hands and found his answer. 10. A flat 10% tax on income.

    For farmers, that would mean 10% of their product or its nominal value in pound sterling.

    For salary workers, that would mean 10% of their income.

    How to sell the idea of taking money away from people? Defence. Every Boer knew that the lands they stood on were extremely dangerous, with elves lurking around the corner behind every brush. The bush might be hiding an entire ambush party, scouting party or war party looking to have them all massacred. All men and women know they have to contribute funds to the Commando so that the Commando can procure arms and arm them in an event of a conflict.

    For those who are unhappy, Jan¡¯s only suggestion was to have them move away to somewhere else. Because people who don¡¯t contribute to the local town¡¯s funds are parasites on the system, and if they wanted to be as free as their traditional Voortrekkers ancestors, they are very welcome to live in isolation away from here. But because they chose to settle here, unlike their Voortrekker ancestors, they will shut up and pay up.

    Those who don¡¯t pay? Well, the Natalia Securities Exchange had a debt collection department specialized in breaking those resistant to paying their debts. A government contract given to that department should solve the issue. He didn¡¯t want to be mean, but if he needed to make an example of any dissenters, that meant a couple of additional bullet holes in their bodies.

    Writing up a decree, he gathered his various Veldkornets for a meeting regarding the taxation and they did not object to it. In principle, it was a fund for defence. But as Sun Tzu said, ¡°The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy''s resistance without fighting.¡±

    Jan had no intentions of fighting, and he was going to make the elves have an interest in cultivating good ties with them. When your standards of living massively improve due to your Boer friends handing over various goods, you would seek to keep the trade link open instead of fighting your Boer friends.

    The plan was to simply be the Singapore of Elfrica. Singapore served as the gateway of Asia, more specifically, Southeast Asia. In the old world, Rwanda sought to do the same even though they¡¯re landlocked¡­

    For many Westerners not wanting to leave the comforts of Western civilization, to throw themselves into the savage East, they would stop in Singapore where they can stay within the boundaries of their all-so-sacred Western Institutions. But whilst Singapore is westernized, the country is not Western. As the Westerners called it, ¡°Disneyland with a death penalty¡±. It is a police state where the law is followed. If the rules aren¡¯t followed, aka, no drug trafficking, one can be hanged.

    That is what Port Mpande would seek to do. Jan would have his people put on Western masks, letting any foreigners from Europe think that they are Western with their white skin and thought. However, Boer culture was distinct from European culture, just like how elven culture was distinct from human culture.

    Port Mpande would serve as the linkage between the Xhosa, Zulu, Boer, and various elves within South Elfrica and any foreigners seeking to do business in the country. Inadvertently, this would allow his town to supercharge their growth as more and more citizens would be able to serve in financial roles due to foreign investment. They would take advantage of the domineering position they held in trade due to Port Mpande while preparing to diversify the economy for the inevitable seizure of Port Natal.

    Just like how immigrants are relieved to reside in their exclaves in foreign nations, foreign investors are relieved to trade with fellow humans that share similar culture and thought instead of directly dealing with foreign species.

    The broker from Cape Town took a short break in Port Natal before travelling by wagon to Port Mpande. The man sneered at the uncivilized surroundings that required much development. The roads were mostly dirt, and the trip was bumpy. Led by the bureaucrat, he was escorted to Pietermaritzburg, when he found some indications of stone roads.

    ¡°Seems like a shithole,¡± The broker remarked, shifting his feet back from the cowshit found on the ground.

    Nevertheless, for the ordinary people living in Pietermaritzburg, having some foreigner calling your town a shithole was gravely insulting. They all glared at the foreigner. The broker sneered but held back once he noticed the guns by their side.

    ¡°Hey, so when are we going to reach there? Seems like the place you talked about. A relatively developed town. I assumed you were exaggerating,¡± The broker asked the bureaucrat, who politely kept his cool in the face of the man¡¯s growing rudeness.

    ¡°One more trip, and we will be heading to Port Mpande,¡±

    The broker sighed, ¡°Get the man to Port Natal, I can¡¯t stand the sight of shit on the ground everywhere. Tsk, the authorities in Cape Colony knew how to run things better.¡±

    ¡°Please be patient, SIR,¡± The bureaucrat let out a little hint of frustration which shut the broker¡¯s trap. He was already regretting coming over here.

    ¡°A simple farmer wants to trade in equities. Bold. But since you paid for my trip here, I suppose I should spend some time to hear you out,¡± The broker from Cape Town remarked.

    Jan glanced at the man; business attire soaked with sweat. Not good for the Elfrican climate. No doubt, the man must be furious about coming over here, but the man seemed more surprised than anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised. I don¡¯t see much shit on the ground in your little town. How? And there are so many elves. Are you not afraid of them?¡±

    ¡°Like you sir, I don¡¯t like to accidentally step in shit while taking a stroll in town. So, I levy fines on people if they cannot keep their cattle in order. The local police force does a good job.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s what the women were for¡­¡± The broker lightly nodded his head, before remembering that every one of those women he saw had guns. He decided not to ask why.

    ¡°As for the elves, let¡¯s just say, they have something I want, and I have something they want. So, we cooperate, that is the business we conduct.¡±

    The broker seemingly satisfied with such a short answer remarked, ¡°Very well, I won¡¯t pry into your secrets. Tell me, you must be wealthy, sponsoring me to come out here. How much money do you want to invest?¡±

    Jan reached out for something underneath the table. He slowly retrieved a gold bar and placed it on his desk. The broker baulked and shifted backwards from his seat, making the chair scrape against the ground.

    He began putting another gold bar onto the table. And the broker¡¯s jaw dropped.

    ¡°I have many more. So, tell me which stock exchanges you can reach, and tell me what I can invest in.¡±

    Clearing his throat, the broker began his prepared speech.

    ¡°We offer services regarding the procurement of equities in the international markets for our customers. Markets involve the Bolsa de Madrid or Madrid Stock Exchange, B?rse Frankfurt or Frankfurt Stock Exchange, Borsa Italiana or Milan Stock Exchange, the London Stock Exchange and finally the New York Stock Exchange. Every transaction has a commission fee for the service we provide.¡±

    Jan homed in on the two most important stock exchanges, the London Stock Exchange and New York Stock Exchange. The superpower of this era is Great Britain, and if things go according to history, and Americans manifest their destiny, the United States of America was the next superpower.

    The other stock exchanges were ruled by monarchies. And like the Jews serving the European monarchies of old, he was afraid of his wealth being confiscated or seized due to the whims of a king.

    Plus, investing in Spain was a horrible decision. Spain was in a decline. And if history follows, they will lose Cuba to the Americans, as well as deal with a civil war. Plus looking at Spain¡¯s modern GDP Per Capita compared to France and Germany, it was obvious any investments won¡¯t grow quickly.

    Germany was bad because they would have to deal with numerous wars for German unification. This was bad for business.

    Milan? Same thing if they tried to unify Italy.

    London and America were the best. And he conveyed that to the broker.

    The broker handed him a list of popular stocks from the various markets. And due to the influence of the modern world seeping in, he focused all his attention on American stock.

    ¡°Buy Citigroup Inc, JP Morgan Chase & Co, Proctor & Gamble,¡± He listed out some companies in the list that were famous household American brands that had high stock prices.

    The broker nodded fervently and took notes and Jan listed company after company.

 Chapter 70: Bilingualism

    For the time being, Jan had adopted a hands-off approach to education. Various types of institutions sprouted out. They were all religious, due to how many of his people were still religious. Educational content differed from institution to institution, and he didn¡¯t bother to change much. If people can read or write, that was good enough for him.

    Once a person can read or write in a single language, they can do the same in another language. Whether they do so out of economic need or due to a government authority, is none of his concern. Is it cultural genocide to force people to adopt another culture? Yes. But is it the same if economics dictate that knowledge of English in business is a must? One can argue that it is discriminatory, but that is how business is to be conducted currently.

    The might of the British Empire, consisting of its military and cultural influence made English the business language. Following up with American dominance in the latter half of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, it has further reinforced that. If that was how the trends of history go, shouldn¡¯t he ride along, instead of trying to resist by having his people learn their respective mother tongues?

    Of course, a heavy-handed approach cannot be undertaken. One cannot be forced to learn English. Even if he had the authority to do so, it would be considered an overstepping of boundaries. Plus, the traditionalists would want their youths to know their languages. Imagine if parents were unable to communicate with their children, because their children spoke English, while their parents spoke either Zulu or Elfrikaans.

    To appease the factions, he planned to impose bilingualism in all schools. First and foremost, every citizen ought to know and understand the English language. Secondly, they must also achieve mastery over their mother tongues, or the language of their people. If they are an elf, whether they are Zulu or Xhosa, then they ought to master their people¡¯s language. If they are Boer, then they ought to either understand Elfrikaans or Dutch.

    This way, the mercantile and capitalist class could be pleased with a steady stream of workers that could speak English, while traditionalists could be appeased that their youths could speak in their mother tongue.

    The only issue was that he had to convince the various religious institutions that hosted schools to follow up. And if he knew anything about religious people, is that they are extremely resistant to change. Hell, they were willing to fight a war in Europe for Thirty Years for that.

    He gathered his Veldkornets and sought their opinions. Janneke and Pietje were resistant to the idea. They were Boers who made the Great Trek, escaping the English administration back in Cape Colony. Here he was proposing that they should have their people master English, the language of their old overlords down South.

    Russell was supportive although that was because he was English. He would be relieved if more people could speak his tongue instead of himself codeswitching to either Elfrikaans or Dutch.

    ¡°You can argue all you want. And I understand where you¡¯re coming from. But it is going to be hard to convince people to pick up a second language. More trouble than its worth,¡± Pietje explained.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it will be as hard as what Pietje is exaggerating. But it will be tough. Nevertheless, it won¡¯t be the people you would be convincing. You¡¯ll be convincing the various religious institutions to add English to the curriculum. If you could do that, then there are not many people could complain about,¡± Janneke added.

    Since the easy way of getting his Veldkornets to enforce it was out, he had to negotiate with the religious leaders and Elfrican Chiefs. And with so many groups to negotiate with, this was going to be headache-inducing.

    He gathered the various priests, pastors, Zulu Chiefs and Sangomas, and Xhosa War Doctors and Chiefs to discuss the matter. He had bureaucrats, Zulu, Boer and Xhosa to help translate the words spoken by the representatives. The reason why he gathered everyone was that it was much easier than negotiating one by one. He might obtain more concessions that way, but he needed a uniform agreement with everyone if he wanted to put the policy in place.

    Funny enough, while the Elfrican Chiefs and religious leaders were digesting his words, the ones making the most noise were the Boer pastor left behind by Sarel.

    ¡°English! Are you trying to bring us back under the boot of the English authorities? Have they bought you, an English dog?¡± The pastor yelled in Elfrikaans, while the Anglican pastor held a saintly gaze. The Dutch pastor shot a nasty glare at the Anglican pastor before turning to face Jan.

    ¡°I have already explained, pastor. Whether you want it or not, English is the language of commerce. Tell me, which merchants do you frequently trade with? Are they mostly English? And you tell me we should insulate ourselves and not speak the language of the traders. What if they scam you, will you come to me begging for my assistance? But if our people know English, such a matter would not have happened in the first place. So, tell me, will this benefit me, or will it benefit our people more? Remember our duties, pastor.¡±

    The pastor ground his teeth, and sat back down, taking a deep breath.

    ¡°What then, Commando? If everyone is influenced by English ways and become Anglicized? What would the word Boer mean? Even if our skin is as white as the English, they would never see us as English. What they would see is a Dutch person pretending to be English.¡±

    ¡°Then you should know the answer, pastor. Do you believe that our people would be as stupid to completely embrace the fold of the English, without taking that into account? There might be fools like that, but they will always be a minority. But I have no need of such traitors, and if they wish to kiss Queen Victoria¡¯s arse, they are very welcome to migrate to London.¡±

    ¡°I am not asking for Boers to completely forget Dutch and Elfrikaans and brainwash themselves into thinking as Englishman. I am asking for them to be able to communicate with our English trading partners. Our people ought to know Elfrikaans or Dutch and speak the tongue that their ancestors speak.¡±

    Jan looked towards a bureaucrat and winked. The bureaucrat at the back began clapping. This is followed up by the other bureaucrats clapping at the same time. With the power of peer pressure, the various dignitaries in the room clapped along whilst the bureaucrat translated the contents of the conversation to them.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    A Xhosa Chief stood up and seemed to have something to say. He pointed at the Chief and waited for her to gather her words.

    Translating the Chiefs¡¯ words, the bureaucrat explained, ¡°There is nothing wrong with learning amaJohnny¡¯s language. But we lack instructors to have our people learn the language. Nor are there any books in Xhosa that could teach our people amaJohnny.¡±

    Jan¡¯s eye furrowed at the term amaJohnny but understood the term in a couple of seconds.

    He looked towards the Anglican pastor, who was all too happy to stand up and speak on his behalf.

    ¡°The London Missionary Society will be providing missionaries that will gladly teach you all English! We will not hold back!¡±

    ¡®In converting you all to Christians,¡¯ Jan silently thought as the pastor boisterously explained.

    A couple of conversions were unavoidable. But with the Dutch Protestant Church acting as a counteracting force against the Anglican Church, neither faction should be too powerful.

    No doubt the Boer pastor was fuming because his rival gained a lot more authority in the region. He looked towards the Commando so that he could give him a piece of his mind. Jan pretended he didn¡¯t exist. Hopefully, the event would incentivize the Dutch Protestant Church to pay more attention to the elves if they didn¡¯t want their Anglican rivals to dominate South Elfrica.

    After the meeting and all its all so boring formalities, the Dutch pastor went up to him and began giving him a tirade of what he was doing was a betrayal of his people, and that he was an English dog.

    ¡°Pastor, you can tell me all this. Or you could work on increasing the diversity of your Church congregation. May I suggest either the Xhosa or Khoikhoi? I do not wish to anger our Zulu partners.¡±

    The Dutch pastor blurted a couple of more curses while heading for the door.

    ¡°Wait, before you go. I don¡¯t suppose you know about distillation. As a Church, you must have distilled alcohol.¡±

    ¡°It seems that only alcohol would incentivize you to go to Church, huh?¡± The pastor turned around and smirked.

    ¡°Not exactly, this distillation process, I need you to teach a couple of men how to do so. Because I planned on starting up a distillery.¡±

    To reinforce the importance of math and science, he needed workplaces that required both subjects. Then he can convince the religious schools to adopt both subjects into their curriculum. This is most important for Zulu and Xhosa schools since subjects like calculus would need some time to explain and convince their Chiefs of their importance. Knowing how some people struggled with calculus in the real world, he didn¡¯t think this would be easy at all. Since they would have to start from primary school mathematics before working their way to calculus, and that is if the Xhosa and Zulu Chiefs even bothered to listen to the teacher¡¯s words. Well then, as Adam Smith¡¯s The Wealth of Nations implied, teachers ought to be paid by the number of students they had, and if they can¡¯t teach, they are very welcome to quit.

    Since no foreign investor would bother to do the training and setting up the workplaces to do so, he would have to begin with State Owned Enterprises that require such subjects. And with such a requirement in place, religious schools would have no choice but add mathematics and science to their curriculum to demand from their students. Because a chemist would make so much more than a subsistence farmer, the latter will be forced to pick up Chemistry to climb the social ladder. Just like how people are jumping into the field of Computer Science for the money, wait, never mind, it seems Big Tech is firing these people, oops. Guess that Bootcamp won¡¯t help huh?

    Distillation is the separation of various substances from a liquid mixture using boiling and condensation. For example, salt. Once the water is boiled, salt will be left behind as a solid. However, the temperature cannot be 100 Degrees Celsius, since the mixture would have a higher boiling point due to the contamination of salt in the water. More energy is needed to be given to the water molecules as some of the heat is absorbed by salt particles. Once the water molecule obtains enough energy, it would begin evaporating and head to the skies.

    What interested Jan was fractional distillation, which is the separation of a mixture into various fractions. The various components of a mixture would have different boiling points, and thus, in a fractioning column, those with lower boiling points will rise to the top and be condensed in a chamber. Whilst those with the highest boiling point would sink to the bottom and be condensed. What was the most famous resource that is fed through a fractioning column, used by all Chemistry textbooks? Oil, more specifically, Crude Oil.

    Who doesn¡¯t love to drink? Alcohol has such an old history and tradition that the story of human history cannot be discussed without a mention of alcohol. To make whisky, brandy and rum, one must distil the fermented broth. No doubt, amongst Jan¡¯s men some would love to drink. For an alcoholic, the dream job would be working at a brewery, for they can take a sip or so every time their superiors are not looking.

    He would start by sponsoring some state-owned distilleries to begin the production of alcohol. The market? There were elves all around them, and humans willing to procure alcohol. Surely, there would be demand. And if not, they could export them to Cape Colony. From there, once a culture of distillation exists, they can move on to fractional distillation by constructing some oil refineries.

    In this period, the true usefulness of oil hasn¡¯t been exploited, and it is merely used as heating in various homes around the globe. Steam-powered machines were common, and they were powered by coal. Once oil wells are discovered in other countries, they would find that the cheapest refineries of oil would be found in South Elfrica due to Jan¡¯s early establishment of oil refineries. And with the knowledge of the modern world, his refineries would be the most efficient and of the best yields. Therefore, oil would flow to South Elfrica, the centre of trade between Asia and Europe.

    But that was a dream, and he could only be pleased with the simple alcohol distillery. Unbranded and with little to no name recognition, it was hard to convince people to buy it. He tossed the job to the bureaucrats who came up with marketing plans. And he greenlit it.

    In the coming weeks, many Elfrican Chiefs would find gifts of whisky made from fermented corn. Many Commandoes and Veldkornets would also receive the same gifts. The brand name? Distillasie, or distillation in Elfrikaans. No doubt, seeing their Chiefs and superiors drinking this strange concoction brought curiosity to many of their follower¡¯s eyes, so they inquired about the source of the drink. It drove business, as the temporary trend had people seeking to procure the brews of Distillasie.

    A certain Xhosa Chief glared at the bottle in her hands. Her husband brought it to her, claiming that it was a gift from the Boers in the North. Hearing this, she smashed the bottle against the ground.

    ¡°Why?¡± Her favourite husband asked as she had had her husband clean up the mess.

    ¡°My mother Nqika, Chief of the Rharhabe house of the Xhosa, was an alcoholic. Whose alcohol, was it? What else, but of the amaBthulu or amaJohnny? Do you think such an object could be a gift? Or is it a drug?¡±

    Maqoma sighed once the mess was cleaned from the ground. She had all the time in the world to rest. Hopefully, the British kept to their agreements, and do not come over the Keiskamma River. Her sister, Sandile should be able to manage things after her regency. With Queen Sarhili¡¯s weak authority, there wasn¡¯t much trouble she was able to cause. And there wasn¡¯t much, for they were part of the Right Hand House of the Xhosa Kingdom, an important noble family of the Xhosa Kingdom.

    Her failures during the Sixth Frontier War harassed her mind constantly, and all she could think about was the alternate future, where they had won. Where the amaBthulu and amaJohnny were expelled from the region, where their cattle could graze in lands once belonging to them.

    But due to the current situation, there were no differences between servants to the colonizers in the West. Due to the loss of many lands meant for their cattle to graze, many Xhosas had to give up their old ways of life and work on English and Boer farms. It was either starvation or becoming a servant. It was a relatively easy decision. Many Chiefs were devastated during the war, their cattle robbed by the English and their Boer compatriots. And that did not include the traitorous amaMfengu!

    Those traitorous Fingoes the Xhosa Kingdom accepted during their escape from Shaka, betrayed them and now served their English masters like dogs.

    But she can only sigh at the dispossession caused to all of them. She had many nightmares, of one where they were all sent to reserves, trapped by British soldiers watching them from their forts. Many of them would also labour for the humans in their settlements and farms. And they would lose all ways of life as the settlers took everything, they once held dear to them. She hoped things did not pan out that way.

    Unfortunately, it did in the old world.

 Chapter 71: The Ingenious Gentleman Boer of Portuguese Mozambique I

    The Gaza Empire ruled by Queen Soshangane was in the North of the Zulu Kingdom. The only issue was contacting them. How does one contact them without getting them or their messenger killed?

    Everyone in the region knows they trade in slaves. So, it was as easy as pretending to be a Portuguese plantation owner and waltzing up to the Nguni elves and asking for slaves. But that would bring one to the Gaza Chief managing transactions. And there was a reason why they carried out transactions instead of activities by the Queen¡¯s Great Palace. Thus, they had little to no political clout whatsoever. Even if one asked for a referral, it was likely it wouldn¡¯t do much.

    Any person would have to climb the chain of command of Gaza Chiefs before finally gaining an audience with Queen Soshangane herself. And with little way to bypass the matter, he dispatched a Boer to take a small ship from Port Mpande and sail to Mozambique, where the Portuguese established their plantations. With a stipend, the bureaucrat was to procure the clothing of a Portuguese plantation owner.

    The bureaucrat waltzed up to a local market where a Gaza elf was bringing over slaves. The Boer, with a confident swagger like any slaveowner, walked up to the elf and spoke in English, ¡°I want to see Queen Soshangane,¡±

    Reading the report written by the man, Jan slapped himself for assigning such a dumb man to do this. Why the fok would the Queen want to see a random Portuguese plantation owner? And hello, at least bother to learn Portuguese or something, don¡¯t just blurt it out in English!

    The elf, foreign to the English tongue, blinked and took some time to comprehend his words. He checked on the slaves, rowdy as they were but cowed after a demonstration on one of their fellow compatriots.

    The Boer nervously looked around; it appears mentioning the name of the Queen had many elves looking right at him. He reminded himself that he is a Portuguese plantation owner and regained his previous confidence.

    ¡°As I¡¯ve said, I want to see Queen Soshangane,¡± The Boer pretended to be a dumb young master.

    The elf shook his head and ignored the man. He herded the slaves into an enclosure and waited for other Portuguese plantation owners to come and gawk at their wares. They and their numerous demands were something the elf didn¡¯t understand. They wanted workers on their plantations, there was plenty to be found, why bother inspecting every slave? For the females, he could understand somewhat, but why be so fussy?

    The Boer had the gall to write back such a lousy report. And he even expected more funds from him! Jan was grinding his teeth and wanted to write every swear word known to men in every language right into the paper.

    Taking a deep breath, he decided not to make such a negative judgement. The Boer might be a bad report writer, and things couldn¡¯t have been that bad. And he supposed the man needed some time to establish his presence before he could even meet with a Gaza Chief. He wrote that the man should procure some slaves so that he could establish himself in the region. As for what to do with the slaves. Hand them over to the Portuguese that owned the biggest plantation in the town as gifts and befriend the man.

    He hoped that the man would write a better report.

    Week 2 of the Boer¡¯s espionage in Mozambique

    No Portuguese man approached the bureaucrat even if he was dressed in Portuguese wear. Every Portuguese man somehow figured out that the man trying to converse with them in English was a foreigner. Their children were somehow more receptive to the Dutchman, due to their education in multiple languages as well as their innocence.

    The man went to the market and met up with the same Gaza elf that he had disturbed a week prior. The Gaza took one look at the man and quickly looked away. Yes, pretend that the insane man pretending to be Portuguese did not exist, perhaps he would be left alone.

    ¡°You there, I want to buy some slaves,¡± The Boer declared in lousy Portuguese showing the Portuguese coins he obtained, exchanged with some currency brokers.

    The Gaza elf blinked and took some time to comprehend his words. He shrugged and presented the man with the haul sent over from various Gaza Chiefs.

    ¡°The men over here are good for plantations. Nothing special to add on. You are welcome to inspect them, please don¡¯t,¡± The elf explained in Portuguese, becoming more confident after seeing his words fly over the Boer¡¯s head.

    The Boer pointed at a couple of elves that had their hands bound with rope. He picked them at random, unable to tell the difference between them.

    ¡°Excellent, since you¡¯re a man, assuming you¡¯re one considering the small bulge in your pants, would you have a look at the women? All the good ones are already sold. But there might be some you might be interested in due to your low standards,¡± The elf mocked, and the Boer could only stare at the elf, confused about his words.

    The women were bare, with little to no clothing protecting their modesty. It is to allow any slave buyers to carefully inspect the product, for the male humans are very particular about the female elves they bought.

    The Boer put on the best poker face he could muster and controlled his urges. The elf looked down and found victory. In rapid succession, the Boer pointed at a couple of beautiful elves. The Gaza elf grinned and grabbed all the foreigner¡¯s coins. Since this dumb foreigner did not know how the market worked, he assumed that was the actual price. But since the foreigner didn¡¯t argue, the Gaza elf saw fit to give himself a huge tip.

    And the day ended with the Boer gaining an elf slave harem.

    ¡°This jas! Fok, why did I send this horndog!¡± Jan wrapped his fingers around his forehead, rubbing it constantly to prevent the oncoming migraine. Once he resolved to have the man fired and forced to do community service once he came back, he steadied himself and continued reading the report.

    The next line in the report was a single line.

    I did not have sexual relations with these women.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Sure, buddy, sure. Like how Clinton did not have sexual relations with that woman. Jan crumpled up the paper with rage and continued reading.

    The Boer went to the local Portuguese administrator, the regulo or the one who just so happened to be a Portuguese plantation owner. The regulo eyebrows shot up as he found the crazy fake Portuguese man that many of his fellows complained about coming up to his plantation.

    ¡°Hello there, I have slaves for you,¡± The Boer explained in English.

    The regulo froze up and recognised the English in the man¡¯s words. As the business language was English, the regulo picked it up and codeswitched to English.

    ¡°Uhh, thank you, sir?¡± The regulo looked towards the slaves. The males were acceptable, even if they were a little defiant. He would have to spend some time breaking them. But free labour was free labour, why should he say no?

    And the women? Uhm, he saw other landowners buy the pretty ones, so they were mediocre. He supposed he could gift them to hardworking Elfrican slaves as a reward to keep them in line. And if they have children, well, it would be hard for either of them to escape, won¡¯t they?

    His wife, on the other hand, took one look at the female slaves and saw it as an upfront. No doubt, as written by the Boer in his account, the Portuguese woman was insecure and felt insecure about her femininity when compared to the elven slaves he brought.

    ¡°Pedro! I said no female slaves! Why the porra did you buy a whole harem of them!¡±

    Pedro¡¯s daydreaming was interrupted as his wife started yelling in his face. Ahh, he now remembered why the female servants of his household were practically non-existent, because of his wife¡­

    Pedro could only hide his disappointment and firmed his expression. Steeling himself so as if his wife couldn¡¯t discern his true feelings, ¡°I am very sorry sir. But while I am fine with the male elves, the females have no place on my estate. Nonetheless, I will still thank you for the thoughtful gift,¡±

    His wife seemed pleased with the firm tone he took, and went back into the household to continue caring for their son.

    The Boer, now having to deal with angry female slaves tied up by his side left the household while accomplishing nothing.

    Once again, the Boer reiterated in the report, ¡®I did not have sexual relations with these women¡¯.

    ¡®What is this fantasy story? Bullshit! You just want to keep the female slaves you bought using my money for yourself!¡¯ Jan fumed, hemming and hawing as he figured out a response.

    If this story went as it did in those kinds of novels, the slaves would all fall in love with the Boer, and they would live happily ever after¡­

    Wait a minute, elves were matriarchal, so wouldn¡¯t they see the Boer as their property instead of being subservient to him¡­

    That man better checks his back if this story is fake.

    Jan continued reading.

    Not sure what else to do, the Boer went to the inn. With the small scraps of coins he still had, he could buy porridge for all of him and his harem of elves.

    That was all, as the letter ended with a plea for him to send more money.

    ¡®Fok it! I have already invested this much for this venture, this better be worth it!¡¯ Jan decided to send the same funds he sent last time, and decided to see what the Boer would do with it.

    Week 3 of the Boer expedition to Portuguese Mozambique.

    Dear Commando Jan,

    With the funds you sent, I have procured a plot of land and decided to become a plantation owner. This is so I can blend in with the locals. The regulo approved of my purchase and was satisfied with my gift of elf slaves. I and the female slaves have found an understanding, and we are living happily together. From the plot of land I¡¯ve purchased, it would be a good hub of operations for further diplomatic missions to either the officials in Mozambique or the Gaza Empire.

    Yours sincerely,

    A Portuguese

    <ol>

    <li>I interviewed some Portuguese youths, and they wrote a newspaper article for me. I have translated it into English for your pleasure.</li>

    </ol>

    Jan began flipping through the papers, looking for a suitable hitman to shoot the man so that his frustrations could be relieved. But before doing so, he decided to take a look at the stupid newspaper article.

    The Ingenious Gentleman Portuguese Boer of Portuguese Mozambique

    Here we are interviewing a Dutch man who firmly believes he is Portuguese even if he is unable to even speak the language. He claims that he is Portuguese even if he hails from South Elfrica, specifically the Natalia Republic. The man has some words to say to his friends from South Elfrica reading this article.

    Portuguese Boer: ¡°Hello Commando! Hi, ma! Hi, pa! I¡¯m famous! I am not a Boer, I am Portuguese,¡±

    Interviewer: ¡°Can you tell us why you believe to be Portuguese even though neither of your parents is Portuguese?¡±

    Portuguese Boer: ¡°My skin is white. I can say some Portuguese like ol¨¢! I like Portugal!¡±

    Interviewer: ¡°Can you tell us why you like Portugal so much?¡±

    Portuguese Boer: ¡°It is because I can obtain a harem of elves thanks to Portugal! I love you Portugal!¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s because of me! You fucker!¡± Jan yelled. He swore this man was going to become the De Buys of Portuguese Mozambique. Talk about the free burgher dream, this man was living it.

    Interviewer: ¡°Could you introduce us to your various wives that you speak of?¡±

    Portuguese Boer: ¡°Uhm¡­ they can¡¯t speak. We can¡¯t communicate. But they show their love by baring their teeth to me. Or pointing a knife at me whenever I tried to approach them. On second thought, I don¡¯t know whether they like me or not. Either way, since they never ran away from my estate, I assume otherwise.¡±

    Interviewer: *Nods sagely. ¡°That¡¯s right folks, and that¡¯s all we have of The Ingenious Gentleman Portuguese Boer of Portuguese Mozambique. The title was not inspired by Don Quixote hah¡­¡±

    Jan didn¡¯t even know what to say. Can a man be any more shameless about wanting an elf harem? He supposed it was his fault for not setting up the red-light district. But what could he do, no woman would want to serve in such an establishment. He was too successful¡­

    He appointed a bureaucrat to travel to where the Boer went, and to scout out the ¡®embassy¡¯ the Portuguese Boer created. They were given two muskets and were expected to shoot the man if what he said was false. He would not tolerate such wastrels eating up his funds as if they were free. Such funds could have been invested in a local Boer enterprise instead of helping a man get laid.

    The Boer bureaucrats reached the Portuguese Mozambique settlement by the Gaza Empire and found the plantation that the Portuguese Boer founded. With prior preparations, they were versed in Portuguese, so they asked the man¡¯s neighbours about him. As all accounts confirmed, everyone thought that he was a crazy man thinking that he was Portuguese even if he was not. The man, in true Boer fashion, built the entire plantation by hand with the help of his harem of slaves.

    The Boers inquired about the slaves, and the Portuguese plantation owner was all too happy to enlighten them about the female slaves.

    ¡°You see, the slaves don¡¯t run because they¡¯re lost. This is a foreign environment for slaves; thus they are rather subservient. And they don¡¯t have a place to run off to. Their homeland is ruled by the Gazas, so if they head back to their Chiefdom and the Gaza Chief recognised them, they would be sent over here again. Some of them run off to form independent communities, but we quickly crush them once they are found,¡± The landowner explained in Portuguese.

    ¡°So, the female elves aren¡¯t fleeing not out of any loyalty? They are just gathering information about their surroundings?¡±

    The landowner nodded.

    ¡°The Dutchman is being very careless with how he treats his slaves. I don¡¯t how one man can handle so many slaves by himself, but I¡¯m surprised he hadn¡¯t ended up dead yet.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you call him a gentleman?¡±

    The landowner shook his head.

    ¡°We call him a gentleman to laugh at him for his ungentlemanly manner. We can all see that he is a simple farmer. Just like how we call him Portuguese to appease the man, even if he is Dutch.¡±

    The Boers went to the estate. The Portuguese Boer, upon recognising his co-workers waved at them.

    ¡°Why are you Portuguese?¡± The first Boer asked, not bothering to follow the Commando¡¯s orders to shoot the man.

    ¡°The Commando told me to blend in. And who else would be able to blend in better than a Portuguese in Portuguese territory?¡±

    ¡°So, the elves? Are they beautiful? At least let me see them,¡± The other Boer asked.

    ¡°Uhmm¡­ they all ran away,¡±

    The Boers all looked at the ¡®Portuguese¡¯ plantation owner who had to manage the plantation all by himself.

    ¡°You at least had sex with them, right?¡± A Boer asked with a leery gaze.

    ¡°Come on, isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± The other added on.

    ¡°No,¡± The Portuguese Boer looked towards the ground despondently. He continued, ¡°I was too afraid of getting stabbed by them.¡±

    The two men patted the Portuguese Boer on the back.

    ¡°Sure buddy, we believe you. You did not have sexual relations with those women,¡±

    ¡°Yup. Coming from a man who gets to buy female elves, I believe you,¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m serious.¡±

    ¡°Sure, buddy, sure.¡±

 Chapter 72: The Ingenious Gentleman Boer of Portuguese Mozambique Ii

    Sofala, now known as Nova Sofala in Portuguese East Africa was a Portuguese harbour. Settled because of the gold mines, the Portuguese found the gold mines were mostly depleted but kept a hold of the province due to the harbour formed by the previous Kilwa Elfrican Monarch.

    The inland of Sofala contains an old settlement by Nxaba, one of the many rivals of Queen Soshangane when she and her followers fled into Mozambique. In the region, being a foreigner to the local Tsonga and Shona elves, she quickly consolidated her rule. She adopted the tactics Shaka used, and with her armies, decimated what resistance the natives could put up. There, she installed herself and her followers as the ruling nobility of the region, whilst the local Chiefdoms became subordinate noble houses. She imposed the Nguni customs on the locals so that she integrates them, making many of them learn Zulu.

    Why yes, she was a part of one of the Ndwandwe, a powerful rival Chiefdom to Shaka, that the Zulu subjugated. Shaka even sent some retaliatory raids to punish the Gazas for their insolence, but they beat back any war parties the Zulu Queen sent. Naturally, she is no friend of the Zulu Kingdom, and Jan hoped that was the case if a secret alliance was to be established against the Zulu.

    When she entered the Mozambique region, she found that the Portuguese had already settled there. Soshangane and her followers launched numerous raids, extracting tribute whilst establishing her demesne. Soon enough, the Portuguese found the Nguni Queen to be more useful through cooperation than opposition. Soshangane dominated the slave trade in the region and began supplying slaves for Portuguese plantations.

    Who were these slaves? They are the local Tsonga and Shona elves who were resistant to her rule. Since they had no intentions of cooperating, then their presence is not needed in her domain.

    These were the facts the three Boers quickly picked up. Even the Portuguese Boer was taught some Portuguese so that he could act like his namesake. They built up the plantation the Boers bought and turned it into their headquarters in the region. There, they plotted their next actions concerning diplomatic missions to Soshangane.

    ¡°What would the Queen be interested in?¡± A Boer grumbled, trying to decipher the Portuguese book in his hands. It was something about Portuguese customs that one of the locals handed to the Portuguese Boer. It was ordinarily meant for missionaries to educate their new converts about their ways, but one of them was kind enough to give it to them.

    ¡°Honestly, money. But she gets so much money from the slave trade. I don¡¯t know whether we have enough money to get an audience with her.¡±

    A Boer thought of an idea and blurted it out.

    ¡°Firearms. Every elf in Elfrica wants it. We could gift them as gifts.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s illegal to trade in firearms with the elves,¡± The Portuguese Boer explained.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ fok it, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re some saint who follows the rules right? Who gives a fok what the Portuguese think? If we¡¯re caught, we just say we are British citizens. These Portuguese are lapdogs to the British anyway. If their British masters ask them to bark, they will bark.¡±

    The men procured some Portuguese firearms and went to the local marketplace.

    ¡°You there, I have gifts for Queen Soshangane,¡± The Boer produced a firearm, explaining in Portuguese.

    The Gaza elf found the all too familiar Portuguese Boer who brought over some friends who could at least speak the language. He looked towards the firearms with disinterest.

    ¡°Eh? What a strange elf,¡± The Boer remarked in English.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they understand the value of firearms. You see, during their conquests in Mozambique, the Portuguese were crushed by Soshangane and her Zulu tactics. Look at the flora around us, perfect elven hunting ground,¡± Portuguese Boer explained.

    ¡°Gift?¡± The Boer repeated once more in Portuguese.

    The elf heaved a sigh and looked around before swiping the gun from the Boer.

    ¡°How can I help you? As you can see, I am busy.¡± The Gaza elf asked in Portuguese while pointing at the various unsold slaves in the market.

    ¡°We want to meet with Queen Soshangane.¡±

    ¡°kkkkkkkk¡± The elf started laughing.

    ¡°Unless you¡¯re the King of Portugal or the Queen of Britain, then don¡¯t make such nonsensical requests. It¡¯s difficult for me to also meet with the Queen herself.¡±

    ¡°We have a proposal from a Commando in South Elfrica. It is regarding the Zulu Kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Hand me the proposal, and I¡¯ll hand it to my superiors. It¡¯s going to take a long time if it gets anywhere. So, my recommendation to you all is to buy some slaves and get your plantation up and running, eh? If you buy all the slaves, I can go home earlier and give the proposal to my Chief.¡±

    ¡°Ehhh¡­. we used up all the money¡­¡± The Boers began leaving the marketplace.

    The Boers got to work building up the plantation, deciding to grow similar foods like the local plantations, which are mainly maize and cassava. They notice some crops, that looked very much like the ones grown in their Commando¡¯s estate. A certain Bengali from India was cultivating the crops on his behalf.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that opium?¡± A Boer remarked.

    The slave working in the field gave the Boer the stink eye as he continued tilling the soil.

    ¡°How you know it¡¯s opium, sir? It¡¯s a little experiment I¡¯m carrying out,¡± The Portuguese landowner came over and replied in English.

    The Boer shrugged, ¡°I randomly guessed.¡±

    The landowner noticed the notorious Portuguese Dutchman along with the other Boers and snorted.

    ¡°Well, I was thinking of expanding the opium fields here if the project is successful. The British get to hog up the entire opium trade. But Portugal can play a part in the trade because we have Macau you see.¡±

    ¡°What is Macau?¡± A Boer asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a trading outpost near China. Very sadly, with the British capture of Hong Kong, its importance has diminished. There¡¯s not much we could do about that,¡± The landowner sighed.

    They made further small talk before bidding the nice landowner goodbye. The slaves in his fields didn¡¯t seem very happy though.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    A Gaza Chief dressed in European wear along with some of her men dressed similarly. Due to British cultural dominance, they wore clothes fashioned after the trends in London. They brought along their spears and shields and were meant to intimidate. None of the other landowners bats an eye at the sight, thinking it was some of the local riffraff that the local missionaries converted. Shouldn¡¯t harm their fellow Catholic Christians. Too bad the Boers were Protestant. Unless they wanted to restart the Thirty Years War, there should be no trouble.

    ¡°Heard you were looking up Soshangane, Boer. If you¡¯re going to hand us a proposal, you should hand us one signed by Andries Pretorius of the Natalia Republic, instead of a no-name Commando in the Republic,¡± The Gaza Chief complained in English.

    ¡°Pretorius is a busy man, elf. Anyway, Pretorius should be more than happy to agree with Gaza. After all, we have a common enemy. The Zulus.¡±

    ¡°Heh, you installed your puppet called Mpande on the Zulu throne. Are you sure the Zulus are your enemy? Or is this to lower our guards down so that your Zulu allies could consume Gaza?¡±

    The Boer pointed to his skin.

    ¡°My skin is white,¡± He pointed at the elf¡¯s skin, before continuing, ¡°Your skin is black, like your cousins in the Zulu Kingdom. Do you think the Zulus would cooperate with us? The followers of Shaka would suddenly become peaceful and docile. Funny joke, is it not?¡±

    ¡°Even if Soshangane was willing to hear your proposal out, which I must suggest you obtain written approval from Andries Pretorius, how shall we divvy up the land of the Zulu Kingdom?¡±

    ¡°Depends on how much land you control. Personally, we Boers would rather have lands that have no elves on them. It is much easier to set up farms on lands that no one wants to fight over. Plus, you won¡¯t be the only one we will be entering an agreement with. Have you heard of Queen Mzilikazi of the Matabele? We will be also forming a similar agreement with her.¡±

    ¡°Who hasn¡¯t heard of the upstart who was bested by you Boers as well? I should be relieved that I ran with Soshangane, so I didn¡¯t have to deal with the annoying Boers that would come soon after. That is if she is willing to listen to you all. A triumvirate? From the history of humans that I have studied, I know it will never end well though¡­¡±

    ¡°Then I suggest not being too reliant on your other allies, and dealing with the Zulus on your border if conflict breaks out.¡±

    The report of the conversation with the Gaza Chief and the three Boers was good enough evidence to be presented to Pretorius. And the man was all too pleased to see such an agreement was already paved for him.

    ¡°It is good insurance against a Zulu invasion. But as the Chief said, how would we divvy up the land?¡±

    Jan smirked, ¡°That¡¯s the thing. We won¡¯t be formalizing any agreements to divide the land. It is because we don¡¯t have any intentions of destroying the Zulu Kingdom in the first place. Worst case scenario, we must get into a large fight with those elves. And for sure, we would be the first ones facing the brunt of a Zulu attack. Soshangane and Mzilikazi are relatively far from the Zulu heartland, but we? We¡¯re extremely close. Any assistance provided by the other elves would be little skirmishes and raids on their borders before going back home to enjoy their spoils.¡±

    ¡°Then the agreement is useless?¡±

    ¡°However, the Zulus won¡¯t know this. To them, they¡¯ll think it¡¯s a scary coalition of Boer, Matabele, and Gaza. But if they dig a little deeper, they won¡¯t be able to find the truth. After all, all three of us are either present or future Zulu enemies or rivals. It is more of a scare tactic than anything. And it would improve our relations with the locals, no reason to not do so.¡±

    ¡°Then I see no reason to not sign it. Even if they find out, all the Zulus can do is complain about it. I don¡¯t think they are willing to risk all three of us attacking at once.¡±

    ¡°To the other elves, Shaka might be a warmonger, but she is not stupid, and neither should we expect the same of her relatives.¡±

    The local English pastor, emboldened with the spread of English culture endorsed by the local Commando, was all too happy to give Jan a referral.

    ¡°I can provide some missionaries. Queen Mzilikazi is very welcoming of English missionaries. And under their care, you should be fine by linking up with either David Livingstone¡¯s or Robert Moffat¡¯s group. He is a good friend of Mzilikazi. But I must warn you,¡±

    The Anglican pastor, unsure of what to say next.

    ¡°What I will say is an account by Robert Moffat. He described the queen as charming, dignified, good-looking, with a ready smile; and added, had he not himself been present at some executions it would have been hard to believe the woman''s terrible reputation,¡±

    ¡°No matter what you do in their lands, I urge you to not offend the local Matabele in any way. Because you all are Boers, although I¡¯m sure the Queen won¡¯t be able to tell. There is a reason her reputation is so fearsome, and why every elf that borders her kingdom fears her name.¡±

    ¡°How would my men even approach the queen if she is so scary?¡± Jan asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that she would approach you. It is that her Matabele would bring you to her, whether you want it or not. She has ordered her Matabele to bring any white aliens to her and you would be treated as a guest in her court. Hope you enjoy watching the various executions, I suppose I would not know how else a savage would entertain herself.¡±

    ¡°Then, let¡¯s say I want to strike up an agreement with her, and she founds out that my men are Boers. How likely would she execute them?¡±

    ¡°That is hard to say. I would like to say highly unlikely if you¡¯re English. But she is not very forgiving. Ahh, you know what 100% of your men will get executed. I don¡¯t know whether you can make a plea bargain, or if such a concept exists in such a savage¡¯s court. But either way, you¡¯re screwed.¡±

    Jan began pondering about it. He could have the English missionaries serve as his intermediaries with Queen Mzilikazi, at the risk of them knowing about his plans to form a triumvirate. If they did find out, how would they react? Well, firstly, the news would likely be sent to London. But would the home government react?

    Better it than risking his men being executed by Queen Mzilikazi. From his prior dealings with elves, he would know how petty they are. Negotiations would be rather difficult since they had to be done through English missionaries who would serve their interest instead of his interests, but it was the safer choice.

    Hopefully, the Anglican pastor would put in the good word and the missionaries would help him out instead of focusing on civilizing the elves. And even if Mzilikazi didn¡¯t want to enter the triumvirate, which is highly unlikely considering her geopolitical interests, it was fine. The triumvirate was not a necessity, it was a backup if all diplomatic options failed. Until then, he would ensure the Zulu Kingdom would not have the Boer Republics in their crosshairs.

    ¡°Hello, John,¡± The missionary greeted as they were escorted by various Matabele. The elves held their spears and firearms close by. Firearms? Of course, after that beating Potgieter gave them his firearms, why wouldn¡¯t they want to procure firearms as well?

    ¡°Sir, are you sure you won¡¯t help to repair my gun or make bullets?¡± A Matabele asked in English.

    John, Robbert Maffot¡¯s son stationed in Matabeleland shook his head, and the Matabele left the room, grumbling away from the white man¡¯s ears about their stubbornness.

    ¡°Seems like a failure. No converts?¡± The missionary asked, and John could sigh and nodded his head.

    ¡°Then why not help them with their firearms and bullets?¡±

    ¡°With their dreadful reputation? Instead of execution via cold steel, we would be seeing men and women being shot dead if we did so.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a two-way relationship, John. We provide something, and in return, they will be willing to listen to our sermons and convert to our ways.¡±

    ¡°Religion is not a business transaction. I will not bend my morals just so I could have others listen to the word of God,¡± John insisted.

    ¡°Anyway, I have an agreement from a Boer Commando back in the Natalia Republic. The local Anglican pastor urged me to help him hand the letter over to Mzilikazi. As Robbert Maffot¡¯s son, could you do me a favour and give it to the big woman?¡±

    John took the letter and looked at it. Reading its contents, his eyebrows scrunched up.

    ¡°Those Boers¡­ they¡¯re planning on conquering the entire Zulu Kingdom!¡±

    ¡°Looks like it to me, the pastor said otherwise. But would you believe it if you see such a letter being penned by one of their Commandoes? It seems they are not satisfied with the land they seized from Dingane. They want more. And if they fail, they will come crawling over to Port Natal begging for help, endangering the port.¡±

    John sighed, unsure if he should hand it over to Mzilikazi.

    ¡°It¡¯s your choice, John. No one can force you to hand over the letter if you don¡¯t want to.¡±

    ¡°Since the pastor from the London Missionary Society sent over this letter, I don¡¯t see why I should not do the man a favour and help out our fellow brother, even if I disagree with the letter¡¯s contents.¡±

    John went to Mzilikazi¡¯s Royal Court. The mighty Bull Elephant of a woman stared down at her numerous Matabele from her throne. Muscular in physique, oozing with ferocity, it was difficult for anyone to approach her. Yet when John showed up, the queen smiled, as she saw her dear friend¡¯s son.

    ¡°John, how can I help you?¡± Queen Mzilikazi asked. No Matabele stopped his approach as he approached the queen and handed her the letter.

    ¡°A letter from an associate in South Elfrica.¡±

    Mzilikazi grabbed the letter and scanned its contents, furrowing her eyebrows as she reached line by line.

    She smirked once she reached the end.

 Chapter 73: The rich Anglican and the poor Dutch Protestant

    ¡°Is that all, John? Well then, keep on doing what you¡¯re doing,¡± Mzilikazi bid her close friend¡¯s son away in English, before reclining in her throne, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

    Robert Moffat was a human that was unlike the other humans, he didn¡¯t judge nor criticize how things ran in the Matabeleland. Then again, that man was probably fearing for his life when her Matabele appended him.

    The trashing that the Boers gave to her in her settlements in Transvaal was a heavy scar in her heart. For once, there was an enemy that outmatched them so greatly. Their firearms were a force multiplier, and they had abilities that nullified whatever elven witchcraft they had. Even with superior numbers, they were unable to send the Boers back to where they came from. Being thoroughly humiliated by the Boers made her desire to obtain the very same firearms that gave them the ability to fight opponents that heavily outnumbered them.

    Thus, she was very welcoming of every human, though most of them were missionaries. They refused to provide their guns or ammunition. But they did provide conversations that were privy to the outside world. Elfrica was small. Her kingdom was small.  The men hailed from a globe-spanning Empire, holding territories in places like Canada, India, and Australia. She listened to their tales of the outside world, and their nonsensical sermons.

    There were good stories, but they won¡¯t provide her with firearms. No trader was willing to give her Boer firearms, and even the Boers won¡¯t give up theirs since they were enemies. The annoying Tswana have even begun using them.

    ¡°My Queen, what is it that bothers you?¡± Gundwane Ndiweni, one of her many generals asked, stirring her from her thought about the Westerners.

    ¡°Although they don¡¯t say it, in their eyes, they see us savages. But put them in my place, and they would do the same,¡± Mzilikazi frowned, and Gundwane nodded sheepishly.

    ¡°Indeed. We are foreigners in these lands, and the locals refuse to accept our rule. What else are we to do?¡±

    ¡°Gundwane, don¡¯t think I have forgiven you for appointing my own daughter Nkulumane as Queen while I was gone. I have only stayed my hand because you¡¯re my mother¡¯s sister. Do not think fawning over me will win my forgiveness. Prove your worth to me, and justify why I should keep you around, instead of throwing you off the cliff,¡± Mzilikazi smirked, and Gundwane shuddered.

    ¡°Now then, we have some fools who dare to oppose my rule. Well then, Gundwane, let¡¯s have a good look at how they plan on surviving. It may prove useful to you in the future, my aunt.¡±

    Mzilikazi stood up, and bid her aunt goodbye, heading off with a detachment of Matabele towards the Ntabazinduna or hill of the chiefs.

    There she stood, as the detachment of Matabele surrounded Gundwane who followed along. It seemed she was a stubborn one.

    ¡°Gundwane, if you¡¯re truly afraid of my wrath, then you should have followed Princess Nkulumane when she went off to the Zulu Kingdom to escape my wrath. Why bother staying?¡±

    Gundwane stayed silent, and Mzilikazi frowned.

    ¡°Well then, today we have some Rozvi nobles who led a border raid against me. I decided to change up today¡¯s execution. Beheading is boring. Nor is death by a thousand spears. Let us see if they could handle being splattered against the cliffside. If any of these women live, let us say it is a sign from our ancestors that they ought to live,¡± Mzilikazi grinned maniacally, as the Shona rebels cowered before the cliffs.

    The Matabele soldier shoved the first one off the cliff and her yells could be heard before she turned into blood paste.

    Schick! The sound of flesh kissing the branches of the various flora made a splendid sound as the next Matabele in line looked towards her.

    Gesturing with a hand, the Matabele shove the next one off the cliff.

    ¡°Gundwane, some of your followers should be with these Shona, but the wolves must have eaten the meat off their bones. Perhaps you might find some of their bones lying around?¡±

    Gundwane clamped up, thoroughly cowed by her Queen who continued to watch the show continue to unfold.

    The Rozvi Empire was the old power in place. Mzilikazi and her Matabele¡¯s migration into the region led to conflicts with the Rozvi which consisted of mostly Shona elves. However, she and her Matabele were Ndebele elves. Being of different ethnicity, although the Shona nobility accepted her overlordship, the local Shona elves did not recognize her authority. The Queen running the Rozvi must be fully subjugated before the Shona would lose all faith in the Rozvi, and finally, submit to her.

    Until then, all Shona who resisted her will have their spirits broken, until they learn who is the new master of these lands.

    ¡°My Queen!¡± Gundwane began running towards her. She leapt before Mzilikazi and took a dart shot by one of the Shona nobilities.

    Her maternal aunt Gundwane was struck by the dart, and Mzilikazi watched as her Matabele began raining blow after blow on the Shona who dared to launch an attempt on her life.

    ¡°Gundwane!¡± Mzilikazi has her Matabele escort her maternal aunt to her Sangoma¡¯s hut, where hopefully she was able to be treated. This was all she needed for her faith in Gundwane to be restored.

    She went to the Shona, whom the Matabele almost beaten to death, cursing and swearing their name. Mzilikazi had to applaud her men¡¯s ferocity because she would put them to death if they did otherwise.

    Looking down at the pathetic Shona who could only see with one eye, for the other was pierced with a spear, she grinned.

    ¡°How pathetic. If you thought such a ploy would work, you should have employed a local San to help you out. But too bad, such weak poison wouldn¡¯t have killed me even if it struck home. I am not someone who will collapse from a mere dart. You will need a spear, a large one if you want to take me down.¡±

    Mzilikazi raised the Shona. Staring deep into the elf''s remaining eye that glared back in resentment, she lobbed the noble off the cliff, letting the Shona taste what was coming to her.

    ¡°You did well. But next time, remember to check them for weapons. Even if she is a woman, there is no need to hold back,¡± She glared at the surrounding Matabele before heading back to her throne. There the proceedings continued, the screams of Shona were shouted to the heavens, but the heavens never came down.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    A Matabele came over to her and reported, ¡°Gundwane has perished. The poison was identified to be San.¡±

    Mzilikazi was momentarily surprised but regained her confidence. San poison? It would have killed her if it struck home. But it shouldn¡¯t matter, the one who carried out the deed was dead. She had dispatched a couple of her Matabele to check the corpses.

    ¡°Well then, I heard her daughter is a good witch. Keep a good eye on her.¡±

    She sat on her throne and watched the proceedings.

    ¡°Commando Jan, Mzilikazi has sent a letter,¡± The Anglican priest handed him a letter and Jan opened it.

    Dear Boer,

    I assume you¡¯re an intermediary of Andries Pretorius. If you¡¯re not, then don¡¯t waste my time with stupid proposals. I am willing to join your little coalition against the Zulu Kingdom, but there needs to be something to sweeten the deal. You see, I want firearms. And you need my word. Gift me a steady supply of firearms, then we can talk.

    <ol>

    <li>Fuck you and your people. If you¡¯re in contact with the man Hendrik Potgieter, could you have him shot as a favour to me? Thank you.</li>

    </ol>

    With love,

    Mzilikazi

    ¡°Is she not willing to negotiate?¡± Jan asked, and the Anglican pastor was tight-lipped about it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s hard to tell via a letter since I haven¡¯t met her personally.¡±

    ¡°You missionaries aren¡¯t providing them firearms, right?¡±

    The pastor nodded.

    ¡°Then I believe we have room to negotiate. I will pen the next letter, have your missionaries send them.¡±

    When the Boers went to their Dutch Church, they had to deal with the newcomers to their congregation. Their skins were dark, and their ears were pointy. The two looked at one another, and the Boer gave strange looks to the Dutch pastor.

    ¡°Fok! I don¡¯t want to sit with an elf! Ask them to go to the Anglican Church instead of dirtying the seats here!¡±

    The Dutch pastor shot a glare at the Boer who uttered such words, but the man became only more passionate about his words. Too bad the pastor¡¯s name wasn¡¯t Sarel Cilliers because such blatant disrespect would bring one a beating by other Boers.

    ¡°Yeah, later all the seats become black!¡± Another Boer agreed with him.

    ¡°Shut the fok up!¡± The pastor yelled the loudest, silencing any other Boers from chipping in.

    ¡°They are also God¡¯s creations, so why are you treating them like this?¡± The pastor frowned. At this rate, the Anglican Church was going to completely convert all the elves to their faith, and all he had was this Boers with barely any change in the congregation count.

    ¡°They are the son of Ham; their skins are black and that was why they are our servants!¡±

    The pastor was already pre-emptively prepared for what his congregation would say. Thus, he proposed his prepared compromise.

    ¡°Very well, the Church is now divided in two! One section is for the elves, the other is for you. You might say, but there are not enough seats! Well then, you can either stand throughout the sermon or sit with the sons of Ham!¡± The pastor bellowed. And the Boers, being the epitome of the tough guy in the Wild West, stood at the back of the Boer aisle, whilst the elves enjoyed the large space they had. Some of them kicked back and lay down on the benches.

    Today was going to be one of the longest sermons he ever had because he planned on making those men sit with those elves whether they wanted to or not. Since the men were very stubborn, he could only play the same game and outlast their stubbornness.

    Late afternoon, many of the elves were dozing off in their benches, and the men who were so tough now had to deal with their legs begging for a seat. They sat on the ground, a dirtier place than the benches the elves sat on.

    The pastor threw in the towel. And ended it right then and there.

    And so began the racial segregation of the Church, where the Boers sat on the left, and the elves sat on the right. The same could not be said about the Anglican Church, where the English have no choice but to sit with the overwhelming number of elves in the congregation.

    But most of the elves were only there to receive free baths from the pastors and their assistants when they dip them into the water for their religious rituals. And the free bread and wine. It was a very nice spa, and a lot of elves go there to be treated like Chiefs. All they had to do was to sit there and listen to whatever nonsense the pastors were saying and get free stuff. The pastors didn¡¯t know it and were extremely pleased with the rate of conversions.

    When they realized it at a much later date, they handed out their baptisms, the bread, and their wine with much less fervour than before.

    Due to this, a lot of bakeries sprouted up in Port Mpande to feed the ever-growing supply of bread the Church needed due to the large congregation size.

    Wineries were established as well, and they sought to fill up the undistilled alcoholic drink space that the distilleries failed to feel.

    And the baths? More odd jobs for people to bring buckets of water into the Church. Also, more jobs for them to clean up the inevitable spills of water that these buckets left.

    Zulu craftsmen also began crafting crosses for the various elves who went to the Church. It was a necklace one wore around the neck. Much to the aghast of the Boers and the Pastor who could do little to convince them otherwise. A rumour began going around how such crosses gave one priority to receive the free baths, bread, and wine first, so everyone began wearing it.

    The Anglican missionaries were all too happy to write reports about their efforts in the Natalia Republic, and how they couldn¡¯t see this much success anywhere else. They sent such reports back to the headquarters of the London Missionary Society, which was right in London.

    Their superiors were all too pleased to allocate more funds to the missionary effort in South Elfrica. And the Zulu Construction Companies were all too pleased to help them renovate the Anglican Church. The only one not pleased was the Boer pastor feeling somewhat depressed that the Anglicans get to have all the good stuff while he was barely scraping by.

    By now, some of the Boers were reluctantly sitting on the elven side of the Church, deciding that sitting on the floor every time was becoming rather stubborn on their part. Though there were some holdouts, who steeled their expressions and looked at the Pastor calmly reading the book. The Pastor waggled his eyebrows, peeked at the stubborn Boers, and continued to read.

    When the sermon was over, he asked the elves why they came over to his church instead of the newly renovated Anglican one.

    ¡°Oh, it takes too long for me to get my wine and bread. That¡¯s why I come here instead,¡± The Zulu explained in Elfrikaans. Around his neck, was a cross.

    The Dutch pastor sagely nodded. Turning around, he rubbed his forehead in frustration. Turning to face the Zulu, he put on an understanding look and remarked,¡± I see.¡±

    It didn¡¯t matter what they came to the Church for, Sarel would only be pleased to see all these new converts. And hopefully, he could justify to Sarel about changing this wooden Church to a stone one, so it wouldn¡¯t burn down in the event of a fire. Now he wasn¡¯t accusing anybody or something, but his only rival was the Anglicans, and God knows that those Anglicans could simply destroy his Church with a small fire.

    One time, the Dutch Pastor decided to see what all the fuss was about regarding the Anglican Church. Why did so many elves go there? He could barely see any humans there. Disguising himself by changing his usual outfit, he had his assistant man the Dutch Church on his behalf and snuck into the Anglican congregation. What he saw was perhaps hundreds and thousands of elves all streaming into the building. Any human was a minority, and he could see the English being rather nervous at the realisation that they were the minority.

    Some of them greeted the elves who greeted them, entering the building with them. Inside the stone building, the congregation benches were like a chocolate bar but with white spots occasionally found on its exterior.

    Some even had to stand up in the back. And the Dutch pastor was one of them, and he could watch the Anglican pastor reading to the large congregation he had before them. Forgive him for sinning, but he was extremely jealous of what the Anglicans had.

    The crowd began cheering when the wine and bread were given out as volunteers scurried out with their baskets of bread and a chalice, made of simple iron that was full of wine, was given out.

    It didn¡¯t look anywhere like how a Church should look, but the pastor decided he shouldn¡¯t judge. If it works for the Anglicans, then he should copy their methods to get a bigger congregation.

    He headed back to Church and doubled his orders of bread, doubling his orders of wine.

    And so started a charity race between both Churches on who could give out the greatest number of bread and wine.

    The bakery owners all cried with joy as they borrowed more and more from the Port Mpande Central Bank to fund their expansion. Whilst the wineries began buying up more plots of land to grow grapes on.

    Jan could watch this insanity play out in real-time with a sigh.

    ¡°This is another bubble. If any of them stop buying more bread and wine, most of our bakeries and wineries would collapse. They¡¯re even borrowing money from me, so it¡¯s going to hit me as well.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it would collapse. It¡¯s not as if the Church would stop buying. Their pockets are deep.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what they said of Lehman Brothers. Oh, it couldn¡¯t collapse!¡± Jan remarked as Russell was left scratching his head in confusion.

 Chapter 74: Napiers Ultimatum

    September 1841, Volksraad at Pietermaritzburg

    It was a special occasion and every delegate at the Volksraad was on their best behaviour. Whilst previous sessions could be described as a social club of sorts, today¡¯s dignitary from the Cape Colony had these farmers become gentlemen.

    Governor Sir George Napier of the Cape Colony was present in the Volksraad session, sitting beside Andries Pretorius. It appeared the British force was only here to lay the groundwork for his visit. Dressed in the best clothes that the men procured specifically for the day, it was a house full of British aristocrats.

    Governor Napier stood up as the Chairman of the Volksraad, Jacobus Nicolaas Boshof, invited the Governor to speak.

    ¡°I bring word from Queen Victoria of the British Empire. In her own words, she could not acknowledge the independence of her subjects, but that the trade of the emigrant farmers would be placed on the same footing as that of any other British settlement, upon their receiving a military force to exclude the interference with or possession of the country by any other European power,¡±

    He paused, looking around the room to see the Boers taking some time to digest the contents.

    ¡°What the Queen is offering is what you all wish for. Self-government, with an acknowledgement of British authority. And we would even be willing to protect your little Republic in the event of an elven invasion. You should understand that we are putting fewer and fewer garrisons out of the home islands. Others would not receive such benefits.¡±

    The Governor specifically looked towards Pretorius, the de facto leader of the Republic, who was slowly mulling over it. Napier turned to look at the Chairman, Boshoff, who immediately frowned.

    ¡°We wish to not be British nationals, Governor. We have repeated that clause countless times. We wish to be free men. Independent peoples,¡± Boshoff stood up to speak, as every Boer turned to face him.

    ¡°As I said, my hands are tied. Personally, I support the independence of the Republic. But I am also bound to the home government in Britain, there are things I can and cannot do. And I am unable to revoke your British citizenship even if you wanted it or not. Many savages beg for such an opportunity, it¡¯s a shame that you would reject it.¡±

    The Governor turned to look at Pretorius, who was looked upon by every Boer in the room.

    ¡°Then I am most sorry, Governor. We reject your offer as it stands. Perhaps a little concession could be given? Such as Port Natal. It¡¯s strange that the Port, being so near our territories, is not under our control.¡±

    ¡°Pretorius, even if you insisted you did not want Port Natal, here you ask for the Port. Well, you¡¯re not the only one. The Spanish have been constantly wanting to seize Gibraltar, but they are unable to do so. So do not be as foolish as the Spanish, Boers, there are some things you can and cannot do. Here is one thing you cannot do.¡±

    The Governor stood up and went to the room¡¯s doors. Stopping, he turned around, as if he had something to add.

    ¡°By the way, the offer still stands. I can wait. But for now, British troops will renter Port Natal and garrison it. Until you accept the offer, then this can be renegotiated.¡±

    Governor Napier was met with jeers as he stormed out of the Volksraad, linking up with the small British detachment waiting to escort him to Port Natal.

    ¡°How was it, sir?¡± Captain Smith asked, checking his carbine.

    Napier looked at the ground, ensuring he did not step in cow or hose shit, before getting up on his horse. He was dressed in a black suit, unsuitable for the climate, so he pulled against his collar. Like any male who got older, there was a prominent bald spat on the centre of his head which Napier used a hat to cover it.

    ¡°It was fine. Even if the Boers wish to cause trouble, I doubt they would dare to open fire. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Captain Smith nodded and barked out orders to the Khoikhoi Cape Mounted Riflemen who rode off with the Governor.

    Pretorius exchanged looks with Boshoff. And the Volksraad fell silent.

    Boshoff began penning a proclamation wanting to argue against this injustice on the British part. On behalf of the farmers, he slammed the administration in Cape Colony, for not allowing the Boers representation in the governance. In it, he called for a protest by all Boers against the British administration in Cape Colony so that he could cripple the administration.

    Unfortunately, the man¡¯s letter had little to no effect, for any Boer who stayed back in the Cape, were culturally influenced by the British, and weren¡¯t sympathetic to the Voortrekker cause. Some protests were carried out, but the diehard ones already trekked away into either the Free States or Natal. They were of course cracked down on by British authorities, specifically, Khoikhoi officers who led to even more protests, which led to more crackdowns. Immigration increased to the Boer Republics, but at what cost?

    Relations with the British and Boer Republics were at an all-time low, and Jan could only frown at how the Boers ruined the relationship with the Cape Colony¡¯s administration. There was no need to do any of this because neither would it have any effect nor would it change anyone¡¯s mind. And honestly, what was wrong with keeping British citizenship, it meant they could be integrated with the British markets. Self-sufficiency or autarky is horrendous for industrialization.

    How many Boers do they have? About a few thousand. How many of them were useful workers? Divide by two, and one will get the number of useful men or labourers. Since women in the workplace weren¡¯t the norm, the Boers were only fully utilizing half of their potential. How is one able to man mines, factories, ports, services and transportation with so little manpower? Even if one added the elves, that was stretching it, assuming they are fully integrated into the economy. At most, the population size in the best-case scenario would be about a hundred thousand. But a hundred thousand is small compared to the millions the British Empire had. He could only facepalm at the pathetic sight in the Volksraad, while the nationalistic Boers all jeered the Governor away.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    And he planned to rely on European machinery to deal with the crunch in manpower, but now that relations were at an all-time low, his reliance on Belgian machinery would only increase. While it wasn¡¯t a bad thing, relying solely on them was bad. But it is not as if he could train farmers into machinists within a single generation. Never mind, computer scientists could be trained in a few months apparently if one goes to a boot camp.

    Jan was more interested in Boshof who presided over the Natalia Republic¡¯s Volksraad as the Chairman for this special session. He approached the man whilst he was out dining.

    ¡°Commando of Port Natal, Jan Boddewijk, how can I help you today?¡± Boshof asked as Jan sat opposite Boshof.

    ¡°Chairman Boshof, I would like to get to know you better.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you see the need to introduce yourself. Very well. I am Jacobus Nicolaas Boshoff. I served as a clerk in the Civil Commissioner¡¯s office in Graff-Reinet, where I worked for 14 years under men like Andries Stockenstr?m. I was even promoted to chief clerk and became a sheriff in those parts. There I met up with the various founders of the Natalia Republic during my tenure. Men such as Pretorius and Sarel. I didn¡¯t participate in the Battle of Blood River, but I¡¯m sympathetic to the cause.¡±

    ¡°I must criticize your decision for taking up English laws in your town. I do not know what you were thinking. But the reason we made the trek was to escape English laws.¡±

    ¡°The Foreign Investors from the likes of British merchants tell me otherwise. Nonetheless, I have stripped out the laws that weren¡¯t suitable for us Boers. But left the ones that are good for business.¡±

    ¡°And there are the harsh fines you levy on your people. I do not know why they haven¡¯t trekked away yet. No man I know would accept such absurd laws.¡±

    ¡°I have received many praises from them about how I can keep the streets clean. You know, if your cow is unable to control your bowels, and let loose its contents. They will immediately clean it up before a resident is unable to spot it. They are used to clean streets. And if the streets get dirty, I will receive complaints.¡±

    ¡°Then there is the heavy-handedness manner you deal in the town. Your referendums and elections are undemocratic.¡±

    ¡°If I don¡¯t be rather forceful, then these men won¡¯t fall under my command. A heavy hand is needed to keep these men under control. And if you ask me, what do these farmers know of the various reforms they are voting for? Why should people who don¡¯t know what they are doing be allowed to vote? And on the point of democracy, I at least give them the chance of voting. I could also have not held any referendums and forced them through. So, you should consider that.¡±

    ¡°You remind me so much of those Anglicised Boers in the Western Cape. Why did you come along with us on the trek? You would be so much happier staying there.¡±

    Jan kept silent, and Chairman Boshof¡¯s lips curled up.

    ¡°At the very least you don¡¯t see those elves as savages. And made good use of their labour, so I will give brownie points for that. I must admit, you would be the perfect example of an Anglicised Boer running a town out here. But I heard about your startlingly low Church attendance, and thus I must find a better analogy to describe it.¡±

    ¡°My body is the temple,¡± Jan smirked.

    ¡°Nonetheless, I won¡¯t deny your contributions to the Natalia Republic, Pretorius told me about the agreements you¡¯ve been brokering on his behalf with Queen Mzilikazi and Soshangane respectively. You know, there is also another elven kingdom that borders the Zulu Kingdom, Swaziland ruled by Sobhuza. I suggest bringing her into the coalition. She would make Mzilikazi and Shoshangane much more agreeable if we get her in.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The Swazis make a perfect buffer state between Mzilikazi and Soshangane. Both are also wary of one another; thus, they have been jockeying the Swazis into their sphere. Plus, the defeated Queen Dingane fled there and was killed. So, they are no friends of the Zulus. Here¡¯s an interesting story, their current monarch¡¯s nickname Somhlolo means ¡°the Wonder¡± since her father was struck with lightning when she was born.¡±

    Jan cackled in amusement, although he swiftly regained control. A dark thought entered his mind, wait a minute, he could be struck by lightning as well. This wasn¡¯t the modern world where lightning rods were prevalent. He soon became depressed.

    In the Volksraad¡¯s Afternoon Session, he proposed, ¡°As Sarel Cilliers had once said, we made a convent with God, and thus every town needs a Church!¡±

    He received no applause, and he felt a little embarrassed as all the Boers gave him weird looks. He supposed it was strange that the one who never goes to Church is out here proposing that every town should construct a Church.

    Sarel Cilliers stood up and began applauding in support. He was the only one.

    Jan went back to his seat, which was right beside the Chairman, for Joren was not in attendance.

    Boshof raised an eyebrow at the strange proposal. And allowed the next speaker to speak.

    Leaning in, he whispered into his ear, ¡°What was that about, especially coming from a faithless man?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say, that my town has a lot of bakeries and wineries, and we are more than happy to supply all of Natalia with them.¡±

    The situation back home was so bad that the prices of land kept going up day after day and wineries kept buying up land with the money, they borrowed from him. In response, he raised interest rates to cut the borrowing, but the growth in value of the land prices outpaced the interest rates, so he doubled it which finally stopped the insane borrowing. The Zulu district had to deal with all the new Boer residents who found the land much cheaper than the Boer district. As well as the new winery and bakeries that settled in the region. He supposed it was a way to solve the racial segregation issue and force out the ones who cannot handle the high prices into the Zulu districts.

    Even people were coming up to him, wanting to buy land in Zululand to create plantations. And all he could do was redirect them to Zulu Chiefs whose authority handled it very easily. With a few gifts of cattle under the table, metaphorically speaking, they began leasing out plots of land. His bureaucrats were in talks with the various Zulu Chiefs to further integrate their bureaucracy. They were hoping that they could get the Zulu Chiefs to appoint a representative on their behalf regarding the Boer settlement in Zululand so that the pace of business wouldn¡¯t be so slow.

    Of course, at the rate he saw it, the market was going to be glutted with bread and wine once the bubble pops. So, there¡¯s only one way to do it, raise the demand for bread and wine permanently. What better situation than to increase the number of Churches throughout the Republic? Well, he could score brownie points with Sarel, so that was a plus in his eyes.

    The other way was to export it. And since the elves seemed to like the bread and wine when they are free, they should be satisfied with it if a good price can be given. Thus, he dropped the trade barriers of Zulu grain as Boer farmers transitioned to cash crops, and cheap grain flooded Port Mpande. Bakeries were now able to bake bread cheaply, and they mass-produced bread for the Zulu working class.

    While dropping that barrier, he and Nokuthula hashed out an agreement to have free trade of wine and bread between both parties. So, in return, cheap bread and wine flooded the Zulu market. If Adam Smith saw this, he would probably have Jan as his disciple or whatnot for loosening his protectionist policies. Any Zulu artisanal bakeries and wineries had to close shop and wound down business with the flood of Boer products into the marketplace.

    He received many complaints from various Zulu about it, so he sent them a copy of The Wealth of Nations to shut them up. Unfortunately, this time, he received many complaints about his previous protectionist policies and wanted him to allow Free Trade between the Zulu and the Boers. To that, he said no, because the Zulus could easily dominate any industry with their increased manpower pool that allowed them to have cheap labour, so some protectionist policies still had to stay.

    Hypocritical, he knows. But what government truly 100% practices Free Trade? Even the government of the ¡°Free World¡±, the United States of America, had to implement tariffs and go on a trade war with China because China completely outcompetes, and outmatches America in many industries. The Europeans enforced Free Trade in their colonies and looked at what happened to them. They turned them into resource-extracting lands whilst the Europeans turn the raw goods into higher-value products, exporting them to their colonies, immensely profiting off them.

    If Free Trade meant free violation of a country¡¯s economy, then he can¡¯t do that.

 Chapter 75: Espionage

    Knock, knock. The Zulu bureaucrat knocked on the door and looked towards his Boer compatriot. She held a gun and acted as the muscle for the whole operation. Their mission? Tax collection. This was the standard since while interracial marriages were rare, it was best to communicate to both spouses about their reason for collection. And that was why the duo consisted of a Zulu and a Boer, the most common type of interracial marriage. Rare pairs like Xhosa and Boer were serviced by Xhosa bureaucrats and Boer muscle instead.

    Footsteps could be heard from the other side and a Boer opened the door, looking at the duo. The Zulu bureaucrat presented various documents to the Boer, and the Boer had to spend some time scanning through them.

    ¡°Payment has been delayed for a week. Either pay up by the end of the day or be evicted,¡± The Zulu explained in Elfrikaans.

    Tax collection. Everyone hates the taxman, but without the taxman, the state will be unable to function. The Boer ran back into the home and brought with him his Zulu wife who growled at the Zulu bureaucrat. The Zulu cowered momentarily, but the Boer gunwoman stepped in front of the Zulu. Hoisting her musket up, she sent a blank look to the couple.

    ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time. Just pay the taxes. Don¡¯t make me visit again, we¡¯ll bring more men,¡± The gunwoman demanded before leaving the two with the papers.

    Taxation was a matter of national security, and thus Jan couldn¡¯t afford to be lenient. Anyone who refused to pay would be evicted. Their assets were seized. It was harsh, but execution for tax avoidance was too harsh. Since it was the first time he was collecting taxes, he had to make an example of those complaining about it.

    Strangely enough, as the young man looked at his hands, he realized his hands weren¡¯t as smooth as once been. These hands weren¡¯t as innocent as they are for a scholar, they were the hands that caused suffering. Yet he felt a sense of pride, even with such hands, for when his hands were as smooth as a baby, no one respected him, and saw him as a fool to be exploited. But now, all his men were cowed. The boisterous Boers now subserviently followed along with his harsh laws thanks to his police as well as the carrot he offered, higher standards of living. Men of subsistence farmers, now become bureaucrats, craftsmen, and managers of shops.

    Could the same be described of the other towns run by Commandoes in Natal? Excluding Pietermaritzburg, no other Commando had micromanaged his town the way he did, as well as run things the way he did. They could complain about his harsh measures. They could complain about how he wasn¡¯t a true Boer since he never ran a farm. But can they complain about the benefits he brought to his followers?

    They must admit that his men lived good lives, while they squalor in poverty, living by subsistence farming. The elves and their magic allow their crops to have massive yields, why bother competing with that?

    And the integration of women into the workforce doubled the manpower pool. There were still some hiccups here and there. It wasn¡¯t a situation like in World War 2 in America or the USSR, where out of necessity, women were pushed into the workplace. Therefore, a culture of accepting women in the workforce sprouted. But here, such a culture didn¡¯t exist, and there were some growing pains. Discriminatory managers and misogynist co-workers were present. But since most of the industry was State Owned, and he was the biggest Employer in this town, anyone who acted that way could find themselves blacklisted from his workplaces. Every day, he would receive pleas from these men and women, begging him to strike their names off the blacklist, as they were not able to get a job, and they do not wish for a return to subsistence farming. For their yields are horrendous to the Zulu.

    He decided to keep it. Give it a few months or so. Once they truly understand how good they had it compared to the other Commandoes, then he would let them come back into the workplace.

    Upon self-reflection, Jan could not help but realize he has changed drastically. He had become Authoritarian and even acted that way. What he might complain about in the forums in the past, was what he was presently doing now. A tight grip was needed to keep the people in check, and he completely disrespected democratic principles, repeatedly violating them in front of his people.

    He had even chosen to work with the Elfrican Chiefs, monarchies and chiefdoms, that he would use to mock. For their leadership was run by nobility and aristocrats, whom he perceived as incompetent. And he had even worked with regimes that would be completely horrendous in the modern world, Queen Soshangane of the Gaza Empire. Her participation in the slave trade helped her get rid of dissidents for profit. But sometimes, you just had to work with people you don¡¯t like.

    Then there¡¯s Queen Mzilikazi and her Matabele. She had a dreadful reputation and was harsh to her opponents. But could he fault her for doing so? Better have your enemies fear you than think you¡¯re weak, lest they come to you looking for trouble. And she was in a war, a war with the Shona of the Rozvi Empire.

    Last, of all, he was a Boer. Descendants of the free burghers who settled in South Elfrica during the VOC. Son of men who dispossessed the various elves and have them work in their fields. Sons of slaveowners. He wasn¡¯t also a good guy by any metrics or means. Nor did he bother to make amends. That was how things were to be. Since they already happened, no need to dwell too deeply into it. It was not as if throwing himself to the feet of the Khoikhoi and the various elves begging for forgiveness would solve anything.

    So, he wondered, who was good and who was bad?

    The Great Trek of Boers who migrated inland away from colonial British rule. They displaced many elves who were fighting with one another. Then, they join the elves in fighting the other elves. It was a mess.

    The British and their efforts in the Eastern Cape in dispossessing the Xhosa also didn¡¯t make them good.

    Then again, it was a time when there were no heroes or villains. It was a dog-eat-dog world after all, and everyone was out there looking out for themselves. The worker seeking to sell his labour for profit. The manager seeking to manage labour for profit. The capitalists invest for further profit. The monarch seeks to empower themselves. The aristocrats sought to weaken the monarch to empower themselves.

    It was chaos, and there was no right or wrong. He decided not to think too much. If he wanted to compare things via right and wrong, it was impossible. All he could do was look towards it and remark that the wall was extremely grey. Trying to separate the Gray into black and white is impossible. For there is no right and wrong, only history.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    What he could do was finish what he started. He already spent most of his time trying to save the Natalia Republic. Trying to prevent Pretorius from going toe-to-toe with the British at Port Natal, trying to prevent further Elfrican raids. The increase in trade between the Boer Republics, increased cooperation between Boers to strengthen them for they can only rely on each other. The supply of gold via opium was something that he had some difficulties accepting. No matter, he was the drug dealer, in this case, he was ruining lives for profit. Then again, sometimes you must do things you don¡¯t like. It was either this or poverty via subsistence farming. Without the gold, his town would not be as prosperous as now.

    It was time for action. And no doubt, the Xhosa are most displeased about the British incursions in the Eastern Cape, in traditional Xhosa territory. If the war in 1836 was known as the Sixth Frontier War, then surely, there must be a Seventh. He didn¡¯t know how it would break out. But all he could do was ride the trends of history.

    Jan had a plan, to seize Port Natal and St Lucia without the British seeing it as an act of aggression. It was simple, what if Port Natal wasn¡¯t owned by the British when the Boers attack it? What if the owners were Xhosa? Then they would be liberating the port from Xhosa hands. And since they didn¡¯t sign any formal agreements with the British, there was no need to hand over the port. If the British grumbled about it, point them towards the front in Eastern Cape.

    Jan planned on sponsoring the Xhosas, arming them with firearms so they would completely sweep any resistance of the Eastern Cape, forcing the British to put all their efforts into fighting back the Xhosa advance instead of the matter of Port Natal. Hell, they could even offer to be a resupply port for the British, which they would be most pleased, with and would thus be likely to see Boers as good guardians of the Port. It was also the perfect opportunity to sabotage British ships, to weaken their efforts.

    The brunt of the casualties would be taken by Xhosa who would go toe to toe with the British. He planned to sit back and expand his arms industries so they could ship arms to the Xhosa. With superior numbers and weaponry on par with the British, it would not be like what happened historically. It would the British who flee from South Elfrica, leaving the Anglicized Boers begging for mercy in the Western Cape.

    But that was only the best in scenarios, at most, they would sweep them out of the Eastern Cape and the British would regroup in the Western Cape. A devastating first strike would send the British to the negotiating table quickly. Though, it was likely a long-drawn-out war of attrition. And he would be most pleased to export cheap Zulu grain to help with the war effort because he was a nice guy. Boers were simple farmers, after all, war was bad for business.

    That was why the formation of an agency dealing in matters regarding espionage was long overdue. The State Security Agency (SSA) of South Elfrica will deal with the matter of building up operatives and local support for Boer rule in the various British outposts in Natal. Most of the agents would be English so that they would blend in, but some Boers would be sent over an assistant. They would have Xhosa servants, who were all too pleased to collaborate in the operation. After all, there was no worry about them leaking it to the British. They can tell their Chiefs about it and let them tell their fellow superior Chiefs that they are subordinate to. Once it reaches the top of the chain of command of the Xhosa Kingdom, he would have multiple Xhosa Chiefs wanting to partake in the operation. Then he could negotiate with them concessions such as confirmation that the Port and British outposts in Natal belonged to the Boers, and that the Xhosa should not harm those trekking along the trail of the Great Trek.

    Integrating the Xhosa markets was one, but once the Xhosa went to war, they would be quickly integrated into the Boer market once it turns into a war of attrition. There were also land disputes, which happen from time to time between the Commandoes living by the Xhosas in Natal. Some carried out cattle raids between the Xhosa, and it was likely something the Xhosa Chiefs would demand a solution for.

    He looked towards the first batch of recruits who looked towards him in a daze.

    ¡°So, I just go to Port Natal and act as normal?¡± The English agent asked, and he nodded.

    ¡°Try to get onto the Town Council or whoever runs the town. Send reports about the British garrisons. Map out the Port and its surroundings.¡±

    The Xhosa bureaucrat-turned-agent asked, ¡°Then what do I do?¡±

    ¡°You will assist in this regard. I heard the Xhosas have some magic relating to the bush. They can hide well in the bush. You can note them British patrol routes at time and day. As well as clear the way for your brethren to launch an assault.¡±

    The Boer then took his turn to ask, ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re there as Public Relations. They don¡¯t think too highly of us Boers. You convince them otherwise. Don¡¯t start a fight or anything. If they insult you or anything, just ignore them. Just remember that very soon, you would be their superiors and it would be you insulting them in the future.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a shit job,¡± The Boer complained.

    ¡°My friend, I know many shit jobs, but this is not one of them,¡± Jan smirked.

    It was a simple trio, and they had much time to begin intelligence gathering. They weren¡¯t top secret spies or anything, mostly simple farmers. All they had to do was gather information and integrate themselves into the town. Act as an immigrant when heading to a new country. Yet instead of ducking into the exclave, they instead try to adopt the new country¡¯s culture and act as its people.

    The numbers would be bolstered. But once people get used to the English having Xhosa and Boer friends, they shouldn¡¯t mind if there were suddenly many numbers of Xhosas descending on the town suddenly. Or the many numbers of Boers that would come soon after to liberate it.

    The operation will be called Operation Natal. So even if the British clued on it, they wouldn¡¯t understand what exactly about Natal will the operation be about.

    He wrote up the report for Pretorius to greenlit it so that he could request assistance from the Boer Commandoes. That way he didn¡¯t have to consume all his resources and manpower into the operation, and the Boer Commandoes would have time to shine as he stopped taking credit all by himself.

    Pretorius naturally responded quickly and discreetly with a messenger. The Boer in his thirties enjoyed the sight of the lack of excrement in the ground but had to head back to his town with excrement after handing over the letter.

    Dear Jan,

    I approve of your operation. Feel free to request support from the other Commandoes and Veldkornets. They would be pleased to help as much as they can. Do not be shy, and if you need help, do request it.

    Yours sincerely,

    Pretorius

    With that approval, he sent out letters to various Veldkornets and Commandoes that had little booths set up by the Natalia Securities Exchange to include them in the operation. This was to deepen ties between both parties, as well as seek further cooperation so that their local town economies can be further integrated with his town¡¯s economy. His town was industrializing and produced consumer goods like bread and wine, which needed markets for export.

    With the opportunity to prove their worth to Pretorius, many amiable letters were sent back stating their interest in cooperating with this operation. He had the towns supply Boers and elf servants as agents, while his town supplied the English and Xhosa as agents.

    In the various English towns, they found a wave of Boer-Elf migration streaming into the towns. They somehow had pound sterling with them and were able to integrate themselves smoothly. The Englishman who acted as their guarantor helped to integrate them into the town, and thus many English towns began to have a sizeable Boer-Elf minority. For some reason, they all lived by the town hall. But it was dismissed as a matter of convenience so that they could access the administrative services right by the town.

    At night, there were reports of scampering around in the flora of the numerous bushes by the outskirts of the town. A detachment was sent to investigate it, but nothing was found. The members of the English Town Council were puzzled and sent further patrols, yet it yielded nothing.

    ¡°Strange. Why is all of this happening once those Boers moved in?¡±

    ¡°Pff¡­ Do you think those farmers are doing something in the bush? Most likely taking a shit there or having sex. Eh. We should leave it be.¡±

 Chapter 76: Xenophobia

    Although what Jan was doing was Authoritarian, Boer culture was inherently democratic. They elected their leaders. But what if a leader wasn¡¯t elected? Jan wasn¡¯t elected as the founder of Port Mpande, but many sought to obtain an appointment as Commando of the port. Thus, there have been many calls for fresh elections amongst the Boer electorate, who sought to elect their Commando.

    There were two ways Jan could have dealt with them. He could ignore their calls and suppress them or have to deal with the risk of someone destroying all his hard work. It was not hard for anyone to campaign against him after all. He wasn¡¯t a true Boer, not someone who farms, not someone who sweats in the fields but someone who administrates in an office.

    Many use that against him. Nor does he have an excellent r¨¦sum¨¦ of military experience, completely dominating battlefields like Commando Potgieter and Pretorius. There was also rampant xenophobia against the increasing number of English people settling in his towns, as well as the elven migration from both the Xhosa and Zulu tribes. It was all to be expected. Like how people from developing and third world nations dream of migrating to first world nations, he cannot fault these people for doing the same to improve their standard of living.

    Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, with the immigration, a red-light district was demarcated as there were finally people willing to work in this district. And when the district first opened, the Home Affairs bureau had to step up many patrols due to the influx of gentlemen flooding into the district.

    ¡°Look at all these pent-up gentlemen,¡± Jan remarked, snorting at the same time.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have our hands full for the first few days until the excitement dies down,¡± Veldkornet Janneke complained.

    And like every new attraction that hit the town, the excitement waned over the next few days until it was a simple district that looked normal in the daytime. But at night, well, no children are allowed!

    All of this was to be expected. He was destroying the Boers'' old ways of life and shuffling them into the urban centres whether they wanted or not. Some of them were not happy, and naturally disliked his prioritization of the urban citizens. They¡¯re not wrong, but as someone who lived in a city all his life, it was hard for him to relate to the farmer¡¯s concerns when the future was urbanization. With the crappy yields in Boer fields compared to Zulu agriculture, he was hard-pressed to find any real benefits of having Boers work in the fields. Like how they have been priced out of the staple foods market such as grain and maize thanks to cheap Zulu crops, making them angry for destroying their way of life.

    He supposed destroying hundreds of years of traditions would bring such unrest. But he came from a world where hundreds of years of traditions were destroyed in fifty years, where the third-world country became a first-world one. The elderly, stuck in their ways were now unable to communicate with the Westernized youths who only knew how to speak English, but could barely speak a lick of their mother tongues. Many of them were illiterate, uneducated workers, and were now lost, in the Westernized country. Their children climbed the ladder from the lower classes and were able to reach the middle classes, while the best of the best went all the way to join the elites in the upper classes.

    Change is not peaceful. It is violent. And the old Prime Minister of such a nation would have not been able to carry out his reforms without stepping on some toes. Trade Unions and Socialists campaigned against the Prime Minister¡¯s capitalist vision, but it won out, leading to the business city of Singapore.

    This was the future he ought to implement. And he must admit, he had been copying the rulebook well. He had even become authoritarian to push it through. So, he wondered, if he should just fully accept authoritarianism and crush these Boers.

    He gathered a meeting of his Veldkornets and sought their advice.

    ¡°Honestly¡­¡± Pietje sipped the imported tea from India. Luxuries like these were now possible due to the wealth brought in from trade and gold.

    ¡°You won¡¯t lose. Those maaifoedie who campaign against you are sore losers. Everyone agrees that the town is extremely prosperous compared to the other towns run by other Commandoes in Natal. I would say living here is better than in Pietermaritzburg. At least I won¡¯t accidentally step in shit.¡±

    ¡°And since you gave us political power. Those traditionalists would naturally seek to take it away. You have our full support,¡± Janneke grinned.

    ¡°Worst case scenario, even if you lost. We¡¯ll make sure the new Commando won¡¯t destroy everything,¡± Russell smirked.

    ¡°You¡¯re English you know. If a new Commando takes over, he¡¯ll likely deport you, so what can you do?¡± Jan questioned the Head of Administration of Port Mpande who sheepishly looked away.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to do this. But worst-case scenario, if I do as the people wish, and hold elections for the town¡¯s Commando, and lose. I think I will be done with pretending to be democratic. We¡¯ll be establishing a Junta. The Boer Military Junta.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a junta? I don¡¯t think you should do anything like that. I was elected. My wife was elected. The only ones not elected were you two,¡± Pietje looked towards Jan and Russell.

    ¡°It is a form of government where instead of being democratically elected, a committee seizes power and runs the towns. In this case, the Commando-General seizes power and runs the town with their Veldkornets, who are vital to the daily operations.¡±

    ¡°I agree with Pietje on this, such talk should wait until elections are held. Then we can talk about your Junta or whatsoever, it depends on who you¡¯re running against.¡±

    ¡°If they plan to roll back every reform? Then, will you be in?¡±

    The elected Veldkornets took some time to ponder, whilst Russell nodded in support. Naturally, they were in the same boat. Russell was the face of the English immigrant population, a model Englishman able to fit into Boer society. And like he, they wasn¡¯t elected to their roles, they were appointed. In Jan¡¯s case, self-appointed.

    ¡°Depends on what they try to do. But there are some things I don¡¯t want a rollback on. Like how food cheap has got. If they block the Zulus from trading with us, I¡¯m in,¡± Pietje explained, Janneke nodded her head along with Pietje.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Therefore, the first plans of the Boer Military Junta were hashed out in the event of the failure of democracy in reinforcing Jan¡¯s status as a Commando. If the newly elected Commando sought to destroy everything, then they¡¯ll have to deal with a coup from his fellow Veldkornets, who will reinstall Jan back into power.

    These four, the Commando and his three Veldkornets made up the Junta or the Deep State of the town. Any reform that the new Commando wanted to pass had to go through their approval. Veldkornets were instrumental in the execution of a Commando¡¯s policy, and if they didn¡¯t agree with it, they won¡¯t follow it at all.

    That was for the worst-case scenario. Jan was going to play his old tricks again, and that involved rigging the elections of both Russel¡¯s position of Veldkornet and his position of Commando. What was it that some of the richest men during the Gilded Age of America did? If you did vote for a certain political candidate, especially the evil Teddy Roosevelt, and they won, don¡¯t bother coming to work.

    Who owned much of the industries in the town? Him. They were State-Owned after all, and technically, the shares of ownership went under his name. So even if he was evicted, he still could sit back and earn the profits of his labour as a fellow capitalist. He wrote up a proclamation saying, if he and his Veldkornet Russell won the next election, every man and woman working in his industries would get a pay jump between the range of 1 pence and 1 pound sterling each. Naturally, only a small minority of top workers would get the pound sterling pay rise, but the rest should be satisfied with the 1 pence.

    It was time to fashion himself as some sort of Henry Ford and pay his workers well. That money would only be recirculated back into the economy. And since he ran the economy, it also benefitted him as well. Ahh, the wonders of State Capitalism.

    Anyway, with that proclamation written up, he was going to get a guaranteed win. He could probably sit back and head to the red-light district to enjoy some sexy times, but such a scandal would be bad this close to the next election.

    The Boers who were most affected by his prioritization of urban centres, mostly traditionalist subsistence farmers complained, stating that it was unfair and that he was rigging the election. He responded by saying it was a bonus, as well as sending them a list of the relatively eye-watering salaries his workers had compared to their subsistence farming with their crappy yields. It shut them up quickly, and he received a torrent of applications from these men who lodged complaints days prior. To appease them, he sent them all rejection letters while only accepting those who seemed qualified.

    His fellow Veldkornets were planning the next election, and while they were displeased with his unscrupulous tactics as they wanted to hold elections fairly, they still carried on with their duties. So, while Pietje and Janneke both lodged complaints with him, they only did it as a show to show that they disagreed with it on principle, but they never did anything to hinder it.

    And the workers? Well, he was not penalizing them for not voting for him. Their wages would stay stagnant, but it was their fault for not voting for him.

    And finally, was the issue of voter enfranchisement. It was time to fully accept the immigrant elf population as proper citizens of the town. That means no half-assing it like with the Zulu. Every citizen is expected to have documentation pertaining that they have the right to vote. What are the requirements for citizenship? An address in the town. No need to be as formal as modern countries did. He needed labourers to fuel industrialization, he would need every man he could get into the factories. As long as one lived in the Boer district of town, they are a citizen.

    They must also accept their Commando as the leader, instead of looking towards their tribal leaders for leadership. To put it in elven terms, he must accept the Commando as their new Chief. That is all. That means no tribal politics or whatnot, everyone is equal under the eyes of the law, and no one can be above it. Except for him, and some exceptions that would be beneficial to him. Of course, if the position of Commando was to be handed over to someone else, he would have removed those exceptions, and have that Commando be watched under the wary eyes of the law to ensure the town runs smoothly.

    Since most of the elves still recognised their chief¡¯s authority, very few of them would be eligible for the vote. This is evidenced in their letters which are paired with a letter from their chief indicating their support for whatever the elf was demanding. That also meant they were eligible for conscription, and they would take part in Boer Military Operations as fellow soldiers instead of contracted auxiliaries.

    There were few takers, leaving only a mostly white demographic with a few chocolate chips mixed in. Though, he had every reason to be suspicious of those chocolate chips, so he ordered an investigation into the reason why the elves chose to take up Boer citizenship.

    Through both open questioning and underground surveillance, most of them belonged to tribes that were long gone. Either it had been destroyed via war or it had been disbanded. With no place to belong, they naturally gathered here and sought to integrate into his society, which provided many benefits if one laboured. He had every reason to suspect that some of them were Xhosa and Zulu moles, but instead of going to extreme lengths such as throwing them into concentration camps, he decided to leave them alone. There was nothing to hide, and he had no intentions or desire of claiming their land. Why fight over it when you can buy it?

    It would be easy to sniff out the moles given time. Any moles must accept that to become the perfect mole, they must act as a Boer. Once they''re done with their mission and head back to their tribes, they will realize they won¡¯t be able to fit in. Then where will they go? They¡¯ll come back and work for him. Those who half-ass it will be caught, and some diplomatic incidents will be sparked. Stubborn Elfrican Chiefs will have every reason to claim they have no part in it even if their moles already fessed up. That meant more concessions to be given to him.

    For if one already resorted to espionage, one must either directly or indirectly admit, they could not defeat their opponent head-on. He already won, so he ought to see it as a victory, instead of a defeat.

    It was polling day. And like all previous referendums, it was voluntary. Jan thinks he could force compulsory voting due to the authority he had consolidated, but there was no point. Their population was between a few hundred to a thousand. It was hard to tell with his citizens working as merchants leaving and entering the city from time to time.

    Special Polling discounts were given out by various shopkeepers in support of the initiative. But as the young man walked around town, only a few recognised him. It was understandable, he was never one to make rallies or speeches unlike his opponents, he was someone who works in the office to plan his victory.

    His opponent was a coalition of traditionalists, subsistence farmers and the devout who fully supported his opponent. It made sense, for his reforms specifically disempowered these two factions. His industrialization hit the subsistence of the farmers the hardest. And limited free trade with the Zulu made farming to be perceived as a poor career choice. So, it seems he reinforced what developed countries thought of farming. Interesting.

    Russell¡¯s opponent was a xenophobic protectionist who sought to have their wealth in the urban centres be distributed solely amongst Boers. Free Trade, he argued, weakened their local industries, and gave the elves too many powers over the local town. And it is not as if he could blame the man¡¯s stance.

    Imagine if your superior is a foreigner. But you and your fellow Boers are only subordinate to him. It is widely known that your company prioritizes the promotion of foreigners and that locals are only hired so that the local government is pleased due to the restriction on the hiring of foreigners. That is, for example, for every local hired, a company can hire a foreign worker that works for less pay and is supposedly harder than a local. Wouldn¡¯t you feel resentful?

    Naturally, with no such checks made, many companies are heterogeneous. Aka, only Boers are hired in the company. Or only Zulus are hired. Or even some who only hire cheap immigrants, displacing many of their Boer workers.

    Immigration is deeply unpopular, but it drives the economic engine, at the expense of the locals. Locals would be forced to upskill and be talented in ways that foreigners cannot compete in a globalized world. And for these magicless Boers, they could seethe and grind their teeth and the elves being imported on masse. They had to go back to school and learn Chemistry and Physics.

    Good for the company, but bad for workers.

    Jan would have to admit, looks like Russell have some tough competition to deal with.

    Election results were out.

    Jan won by a landslide 95% of the vote, whilst Russell won with 60% of the vote.

    Jan frowned upon seeing the pathetic vote share earned by Veldkornet. The man was dancing in joy for winning, but without his schemes, would he even win in the first place?