Chapter 3

While Zuela and I dug an extremely shallow grave for the twenty-five men from the caravan, the two girls stripped the bandits, securing their clothing and weapons on the riderless horses. When we buried their father, I said the words over his grave that I remembered hearing the priest say over other graves as he beseeched the gods to accept the newly departed spirit into the spirit world. It seemed to comfort Kazani and Saraki. I said the same words over the mass grave for the other members of the caravan when we buried them and then covered it as well as we could with rocks.

It was mid-afternoon before we were ready to leave. Since the moon would be nearly full tonight, I decided to head for home despite how late in the day it was. I had no desire to unload and reload all the camels, and the men who usually did that were dead. Hell, I didn’t even know how to unload a camel. I’d deal with that problem after we got home.

I led, and had the girls follow. I warned them to stay alert for more bandits chasing us, but hoped nobody would miss the bandits for a few days. I hoped to be home by early morning. Even with a cloudless sky and a nearly full moon, shadows were tricky, so I walked ahead of everyone, tapping my staff on the ground to make sure it was clear and to give the goats a noise to follow.

Zuela caught up to me occasionally, making sure I was doing okay. “Their father was taking them to meet prospective husbands in Port Zamfara,” she explained. “Their dowries are on one of the camels. They don’t know how much it is, but it’s hundreds of gold coins each, which now belong to you. They also brought seeds for dozens of foods, spices, herbs, and even a plant that grows something like wool,” she said excitedly.

I learned more throughout the night each time Zuela came up to check on me. The Baron of Port Zamfara had doubled the tax rate on caravans to pay for his gluttony and life of excess. This caravan was the first of the year and decided to use the smaller port in Mokoko rather than pay the exorbitant taxes. Somehow, the Baron found out and sent a messenger who arrived yesterday, telling the caravan master to return to the southern route this morning, headed for Port Zamfara. When they didn’t, the bandits attacked.

Hearing the dogs and wolf pups happily yapping all around us throughout the night let me know there were no bandits or predators nearby. As the first rays of dawn lightened the eastern sky, we arrived home. By the time the goats were in the pen, my entire family had come out to find out what was going on.

Exhausted, I found a soft patch of grass and flopped down before starting the story. I explained about starting home yesterday and hearing the attack. I told about the battle, and about how Zuela and the dogs helped against the surviving bandits. Then I told them how much the salt was worth, and how much salt there was.

“Zuela would like to tell you something,” I said when I finished most of the tale.

“There were twin girls in the caravan that we rescued, Kazani, and Saraki. Since they were part of the caravan, they count as cargo, and now belong to Harazar. Since I don’t want to see them become slaves, I asked Harazar to accept them as wives. He will make enough from selling the salt to support them for the rest of our lives.

“I also asked him to take my best friend, Bergoa, as a wife. She and I made a pact last year. If Harazar married one of us, we would ask him to take the other as a second wife as soon as he could afford it. We were both sure that he would quickly prove his worth enough to afford a second wife. We’ve heard how good he is with the goats and at finding herbs,” she explained.

My father’s mouth was hanging open in surprise. My mothers were both grinning happily. “Shouldn’t you talk to Bergoa’s father, and then the Priest?” Mother Sofala asked Father, giving him an almost gentle nudge.

“Hmmmmm? Oh, yeah,” Father said, finally closing his mouth.

He looked at me lying on the ground and laughed. “You might want to bathe and put on clean clothing,” he chuckled.

When I looked, I realized that I had dried blood spatters and smears all over my clothes from attacking the bandits and then dragging their bodies away, as well as from carrying and burying the men from the caravan.

With a loud groan, I forced myself to stand up and plodded to the closest watering trough. As tired as I was, I didn’t intend to wait for anyone to heat water. I stripped and climbed into the water trough, washed thoroughly, and climbed out. It was only then that I realized I didn’t bring clean clothing. Instead, I wrapped the dirty clothes around my waist and held them in place while I went inside the house. Everyone laughed at me, but I was too tired, and in too good a mood otherwise to care.

Zuela joined Father and me when we went to speak with Bergoa’s father. The three of us rode the bandits’ horses with their expensive saddles, showing off some of our new wealth. Zuela and I both wore swords in fancy scabbards, compliments of the bandits, and carried a bow with us. Everyone who saw us stared, even Bergoa’s father.

“Greetings, Medromar,” Father greeted Bergoa’s father. Then he dismounted from his horse.

“My son has some amazing news, and he now finds himself the wealthiest man in town. His new wife Zuela wants your daughter Bergoa as his second wife, and my son comes seeking your permission,” he explained.

“How could he suddenly become so wealthy from selling chalk and flint?” Medromar asked.

Father pointed to me, and I retold the story of hearing the battle between the caravan and the bandits, how one camel broke free and headed for us. I explained how we killed the bandits to protect ourselves, and how we now owned the entire caravan.

“What was a caravan from Libania doing headed here?” he asked. “None of the caravans have come here since before my grandfather’s time.”

“Two girls were in the caravan and survived. They told us that the Baron of Port Zamfara doubled the tax rate. This caravan intended to come here to sell their goods, avoiding the excessive taxes. The Baron learned what they were doing and sent a messenger who told them to turn back towards Port Zamfara. When they didn’t, fifty bandits attacked the caravan.

“That’s a serious accusation,” Medromar warned.

“I am not making an accusation. I am merely repeating what I was told by the only survivors from the caravan, although there were fifty bandit bodies,” I explained.

“We will discuss my daughter later. I need to send a messenger to warn King Kugiar. If the Baron of Port Zamfara sends his troops against us, we would only have six trained troops to help defend us,” he exclaimed as he left quickly. The six troops he referred to were King Kugiar’s representatives. They acted as constables if necessary, which was almost never.

“I can’t believe that the Baron would be so foolish as to send troops against us unless his king agrees. Still, if he did send troops, it would be up to us to defend the town again,” Father mused aloud.

Well shit, that ruined my good mood.

While we were waiting for Bergoa’s father to return, a large merchant ship docked. We watched as the men at the oars pulled those oars into the ship, so they weren’t damaged when the ship reached the dock. Once the ship was secured, the captain debarked and came over to us.

“Are you the harbormaster?” he asked my father.

“He left to run an errand a while ago. He should be back soon,” Father replied.

“I was in Port Zamfara and heard whispers that the caravans intended to come here, now,” he said.

“The first one arrived just this morning. It’s right outside of town at our estate,” Father said.

“Excellent, maybe I can buy everything and be on my way quickly. How much are the docking fees and the taxes here?” he asked.

“Local taxes are five percent, but I’m not sure what the taxes are on caravan goods, and I have no idea what the docking fees are. I’m sure they’ll be significantly less here than at Port Zamfara. Any word about how the Baron is taking the news?” Father asked.

“He was making all kinds of threats against any caravan that tried coming here. I’m glad this one made it through,” the captain said.

Medromar returned just then, and the captain asked again. “Docking fee is ten Kellegs for two days, and six Kellegs a day beyond that. Local taxes are five percent, but caravan taxes are eight percent,” he explained.

“Still a damn sight cheaper than Port Zamfara,” the captain mused. “If the caravans do start coming here, you’ll need more local troops to deal with the riffraff,” he warned.

“What does the salt go for?” Medromar asked the captain.

“The usual price is one pound of gold per one-hundred-pound slab of salt. Some of the captains will go as high as a pound and a quarter of gold, though,” he replied.

Medromar’s brows rose with the confirmation of the current price. He looked from my father to me, and then to Zuela. “This was your idea?” he asked her.

“Yes, Bergoa and I made a pact. If Harazar married one of us, we would ask him to take the other as a second wife as soon as he could afford it.”

After collecting the docking fee from the captain, we headed for Medromar’s house. We waited outside while he went in to talk to Bergoa. Even waiting outside, we could hear her excited squeal. “My daughter would like to know if tonight would be acceptable,” he asked when he came back outside, grinning widely.

“That will be perfect,” Father replied. Zuela went inside to talk to Bergoa for a couple of moments and was smiling when she returned, a good omen.

We went to invite Zuela’s parents to dinner, too. After I repeated the story yet again, they promised to be there. As usual, the priest was happy to perform the ceremony and get a free meal.

A kid goat was already cooking when we got home. I was glad I didn’t have to slaughter it. I spent enough time keeping them safe. We always use the young males for meat. We breed the females, both to increase the herd, to provide milk for cheese, and milk for the curdled goat milk we drink. Once the males took an interest in a young female in the flock I was tending, I left her at home with the other dairy females. The female goats grazed close to home so they could be milked each day.

The captain of the ship followed us into one of the barns where my family had already unloaded the camels for us. I guess the camels would have to go with the sheep to graze. He checked each block of salt, as well as the ivory tusks that I didn’t know were in the caravan until a brief time ago. Kazani and Saraki stood off to the side, watching quietly. I already knew what they thought the cargo was worth.

Since he already told us what the salt was worth, he offered a pound of gold for each block of salt. Both twins were shaking their heads when he offered twenty pounds of gold for the twenty ivory tusks.

“No, I think I’ll wait and see what another captain offers for the ivory. I expected much more than twenty pounds of gold,” I said, and started for the door.

“Okay, fifty pounds of gold for the ivory,” he quickly amended his offer.

“Deal,” I agreed when the twins nodded.

“Did you want to buy slaves, copper, or iron?” he asked me. The iron he offered was only half what we usually paid for it here, so I bought all eight hundred pounds. I guess another merchant usually bought some of it in Port Zamfara and then brought it here to sell at a profit. Father suggested buying the copper, too, since it was rare to find any for sale here. The captain had five hundred pounds of copper that sold 20:1 for gold.

I asked Father about slaves. “I will bring everything to your ship tomorrow morning and look at the slaves. If they are strong and healthy, I will buy several to help here,” he agreed. We shook hands on the agreement, and the captain returned to his ship. After he left, Father asked the girls about buying slaves. He wondered what the usual rate was, and if there were things to watch out for.

“Do you realize that we will need to buy more land to farm to support your new family and the slaves?” Father asked me.

“Yes, we need extra land in the riverbed to grow more food, as well as land to grow some new things the twins have seeds for. We should also buy at least two more hills to plant with pasture, and maybe three. I’d really like to keep and breed the horses,” I said. “We’ll have to pasture the camels, too, at least until another caravan arrives that wants to buy them.”

Father started laughing. “I was just thinking about how much all that land will cost and realized that ten pounds of gold will buy that and more,” he laughed.

“Maybe you should buy more slaves, then,” I suggested. “Buy and plant far more land than we need. We can sell the extra crops to the merchant ships. You’ve wanted to raise more pigs, so plant one hill with pasture for the pigs. Build a sturdy rock wall around the base of the hill and then buy several sows, or just keep a few extra females from each litter. As long as we have the money available, we might as well use it. It’s harder to steal land and livestock than to steal gold.”

It was getting close to time for lunch, so we washed up and went inside to eat. After lunch, the three women and I took a nap--and slept.

Mother Nykeea woke us up in time to bathe, change into clean clothes, and greet our guests when they arrived. When Medromar arrived, he asked if I was going back to the main valley soon.

“I planned to leave tomorrow before dawn,” I replied.

“If any of your wives accompany you, could they keep watch for troops or more bandits from Port Zamfara? If they could warn us, it would help us be better prepared,” he explained. I agreed, making him happy.

When the priest arrived, he performed the formal introductions between all three families, as well as of the twins. Once again, he explained that my responsibility as a husband was to protect and provide for my family, to seek guidance from my wives, to see to their needs, as well as to treat my wives equally.

“Do you, Harazar, agree to accept these responsibilities?” he asked me.

“I do,” I replied.

To Bergoa, Kazani, and Saraki, he explained that their responsibility was to bear me children, maintain the household, advise me, and to see to my needs. They were also to take their direction from Zuela, my first wife.

“Do you, Bergoa, and you Saraki, and you Kazani agree to accept these responsibilities?” he asked them.

“I agree,” each replied.

“Do you Zuela agree to accept Bergoa, Saraki, and Kazani into your home as your husband’s wives, and agree to treat them with respect?” he asked Zuela.

“I do,” she replied eagerly.

“Then I declare Harazar and Zuela married to Bergoa, Saraki, and Kazani. May your lives be long, prosperous, and filled with many children. You may now celebrate your first meal together,” he said solemnly.

This first meal was a lot noisier than the last one. For one thing, my four wives chattered excitedly among themselves throughout the meal. Father kept asking Saraki, Kazani, or me about different ideas and possibilities. I decided to stay one or two more days. Mirikar and Torkelar would take the goats to the upper pasture, along with their fifteen mules, loaded with even more lumber to use up there. When I got there, they would load the mules with chalk and return home.

“That reminds me, can we buy the new valley, too?” I asked.

“We don’t need to buy it. Anything beyond the first five rows of hills is available to claim. You just have to swear that you built some sort of building or dwelling on the property,” he explained.

“Does a large cave with just over a hundred feet of an incomplete rock wall around it qualify?” I asked.

“Have you done anything inside the cave to make it habitable?” Father queried.

“I built a smokehouse in the very back of the cave and chiseled out notches in the walls for oil lamps every twenty-five feet the entire length of the cave. That way, the goats can come inside when it rains. We have a fire ring, our bed, hooks to hang things from, and one wooden shelf I set on pegs that I chiseled holes for in the wall,” I replied.

“That’s more than enough to qualify,” Father said proudly. “We should also claim the ridge surrounding the valley since we’re mining chalk and flint there. Who knows how far the chalk deposit extends?” Father added.

Medromar wanted to know more about the bandits. Aside from showing him their weapons, their clothing, and their horses after dinner, there wasn’t much else to tell. We never really spoke with them except when I asked the one man about the horses.

We eschewed the wagon for our ride into town and rode horses, instead. The seat of the wagon only held two people. Riding together on the horses would announce the addition of three more wives to my household, and riding horses would signal our new wealth; only soldiers and the wealthy could afford horses, especially horses and saddles as good as these were.

Everyone we passed on our ride through town gawked in surprise. For the few men who had a second wife, it usually took at least two or three years for a man to prove his ability to support a second wife, and nobody that I knew had more than two. That I had four wives only added to the prestige of my wives. That I was wealthy enough to support four wives and chose them was very prestigious for them. It was also prestigious for me, but I only cared because it increased the prestige of my wives.

Having done so for half my life, I was used to being alone or nearly alone with the sheep or goats. The last two years, I spent most of my time alone with the goats and dogs. That left me more comfortable alone or in the company of my family than running around with my friends the way I did when I was much younger. They were still my friends, and I still talked to them when I was in town, but I only saw them a few times a year when both of us happened to be in the marketplace at the same time. Having four wives around me would take some getting used to.

Once we got home, the women insisted that it was time to go to bed. Note that I didn’t say it was time to go to sleep. They kept me awake long enough to consummate all three new marriages and to include Zuela, too. I finally fell asleep listening to their quiet whispers and laughter.

My mothers smiled proudly when we arrived for breakfast, hugging, and greeting each of my new wives, and welcoming them to the family.

After breakfast, we reloaded the camels which was no easy task. Kazani and Saraki showed us the various commands to get the camels to kneel, crouch, or just to move once they were loaded. Even with more than forty other clan members helping, it took almost half the morning to reload the salt and ivory, and we loaded as much as we could into empty wagons, leaving the unnecessary camels grazing with the sheep.

Father and I led the caravan through town to the harbor causing everyone in town to stare even more than they did last night when we rode through town to announce our marriage. The captain of the ship was happy to see us. After verifying that everything was there, he took us below to see the one hundred eighty-seven slaves. When Kazani and Saraki told us what their father explained to them about the treatment of slaves in Port Zamfara, we decided to buy all or most of them. That just meant we’d have to buy and plant even more land than we had initially planned.

“At first, I only meant to buy a few of you to work for us,” I explained to the shackled and chained slaves. “Last night, we heard how you would be treated if you were sold in Port Zamfara, and we think that sort of treatment is barbaric. Slaves there are routinely whipped and caned for the smallest infractions, and sometimes for imagined infractions.

“They use both women and men for sex whenever the owner desires. While I know of no slaves here, the attitude here is much different than in Port Zamfara. We treat slaves almost like family. We expect them to do the same work we do. They eat the same food we eat and wear the same type of clothing we wear. At first, we will only have tents for you until we build new homes. Once planting season is over, we can start building wood, and eventually stone houses for you to live in.