Chapter 5

I probably shouldn’t have been, but I was surprised in the morning when my wives wanted to ride with Father and me. I started by showing him the tassimin patch. He laughed seeing that the goats had grazed the ground bare all around the patch but left everything in the middle of the patch untouched. Not a single tassimin leaf had been touched. Even leaf-eating insects left it alone.

Our next stop was the east valley. Aside from riding the rim looking for another access route and seeing the poppies growing, I hadn’t explored it yet. I felt naked without a weapon, not that I could have even carried one while riding my horse one-handed. When Father saw the poppies, his jaw dropped. “There are hundreds of them,” he gasped.

“Don’t tell anyone about this except Zuela and your mothers. The more people who know, the more chance there is that someone will let something slip. If word gets out, hundreds of people will be searching for these poppies. The sap will be worth a fortune, enough to buy more than a hundred horses as good as the ones you sent home already.”

Father dug up one of the plants and put it into a cloth bag he brought. When we got back to the caves, everyone was ready to leave. The bitches and the wolf pups stayed in the main valley with Lukas and Vidar. Father left four additional men to work on the wall we were building. Even Missimo was ready to go, although he didn’t go bounding off the way he usually did. Instead, he maintained the same steady pace we did, a pace that got us home by mid-afternoon.

We heard the sentries’ horns starting long before we got home, and everyone was there to greet us when we arrived. “What were you thinking?” Zuela scolded me once she hugged me emotionally--and carefully.

I didn’t get a chance to answer before my mothers had my tunic off so they could inspect my wound. “Good, no sepsis,” Mother Sofala decreed. “You did a good job,” she complimented Bergoa, Kazani, and Saraki.

“Somebody did a good job with Missimo, too,” Mother Nykeea complimented after inspecting his wound.

After a quick lunch, Missimo and I both took a nap. The ride home had been taxing. I can only imagine how difficult it had been for Missimo to run the entire way with a wound like that.

“So, tell me about everything you found in these valleys,” Mother Sofala said at dinner.

“You already know about the chalk, flint, tassimin, honey vine, and the other herbs I brought back. Even though we snare thirty or forty rabbits every night, there are still hundreds more. The dogs don’t even chase them anymore, although the wolf pups usually catch four or five every day.

“Father pointed out all the timber that we can cut from the slope and float downriver, although nearly a hundred of the trees are hickory, and dozens are sweet chestnut so we can collect the nuts each year. I’m sure Father told you about the flowers that I found. I know there are berries in the west valley, although we haven’t been back to pick them. There are also deer and mountain sheep in the west valley. I think that’s everything that I’ve found so far,” I concluded.

Nearly a week later, we were sitting down for lunch. After I described how the poppy plants were flowering, and after looking at the one Father brought home, Mother Sofala felt there was no rush to go up to see them and wanted to let my shoulder heal more, first. We heard a horse gallop up outside and then Charela rushed into the dining room panting as if she’d just run all the way from town. “King Kugiar and his troops just arrived in town a short time ago and King Kemmou of Bajasan is with him. They’re talking to people in town, and they intend to come here to talk with Father and Harazar,” she announced breathlessly.

That news stirred up a beehive of activity as everyone rushed to prepare to meet King Kugiar. My wives dragged me to our room, washed me with wet cloths, rewrapped my wound, and dressed me in clean clothing. Then they washed and dressed themselves in clean clothing and we went outside to wait.

King Kugiar finally arrived amidst a column of his colorfully dressed troops. Unlike the raiders, I could see the discipline in these troops as they constantly scanned their surroundings for threats. Everyone else followed Father’s lead, genuflecting when he did, holding the position briefly, and rising to greet King Kugiar.

“Captain Dhormek, it has been too long,” King Kugiar said enthusiastically as he hugged Father. While I knew that Father had joined the military when Korzika invaded us even before my eldest brother was born, and again when Bajasan tried to invade twenty years ago, I was unaware that he had been an officer, or that he knew King Kugiar personally.

“I hope all is well with my King,” Father replied.

“It is, and you and yours seem to have prospered,” King Kugiar commented, motioning to us.

“Our clan has done well,” Father answered, the pride evident in his voice.

“We have come to learn more about what recently happened,” King Kugiar said.

“My son should be the one to explain since he’s the one who was there,” Father suggested.

“How do we know that he’ll tell the truth?” the corpulent Bajasanian King interrupted snidely.

Even knowing that I should be respectful of a visiting King, I took a deep breath, ready to reply angrily. Almost simultaneously, Father grabbed my shoulder, gently since it was my bad shoulder, and King Kugiar did the same to the Bajasanian King.

“You have never even met my son, yet you dare question his integrity?” Father asked the Bajasanian King angrily.

“Kemmou, we already inquired about the young man in town,” King Kugiar said soothingly. “My Magistrate vouches for Harazar, and my harbormaster gave him an even higher recommendation by allowing his daughter to marry him,” King Kugiar reminded him. I was surprised that they had already checked me out in town.

“I apologize for my outburst,” the Bajasanian King said apologetically to us. “I do not understand why my Baron would attack like that, knowing that he could start a war between our countries,” he sighed.

“If I might make a suggestion,” I spoke up. King Kugiar motioned for me to continue.

“If some of your troops would take my wives inside the house to make sure they don’t discuss anything and that they can’t hear us, each of us could explain separately,” I suggested.

“That won’t be necessary,” the Bajasanian King conceded.

“This started when my wife, Zuela, and I were returning home with our goats from a new pasture beyond the foothills north of the Zingha River. We heard a commotion and saw bandits attacking a caravan. One of the camels broke away from the caravan and ran our way. Knowing that the bandits would chase the camel, would see us, and that they wouldn’t let witnesses live, when five bandits chased the fleeing camel, my wife and I ambushed them with the help of my dogs.

“The remaining bandits sent three more men and we killed them the same way. The final four raiders were preparing to leave so I shouted at them and showed them some of their men tied across their horses. When they charged me, the dogs caught them from the side.”

“Several days later, a group of riders stopped at the spot where the caravan was attacked and then checked the bodies of the bandits. They rode back the way they came from, towards Port Zamfara. Days after that we saw a hundred armed men riding this way. They stopped for the night near the spot where the attack on the caravan occurred. After listening to them joking about what they planned to do with any women from Mokoko that they captured, we attacked them in the night, killing half their number.

“The rest waited until morning to attack us. They had to fight their way across an open area, and then had to climb a steep slope to reach us while we shot arrows at them from higher ground. Several men died in snares that I set. My dogs killed the few men who survived and made it to the top of the hill.

“I passed out from my wound. When I came to, Father was there, and his men had rounded up the wounded bandits who survived. From what I was told, the Baron doubled the taxes he charged caravans, so the caravans decided to come here instead. He sent messengers to warn them not to come here. When they continued this way, his men attacked the first caravan.”

The Bajasanian King released a deep sigh. “I hope everyone will accept my sincere apology for the actions of my Baron,” he said, both to us and to King Kugiar.

“I think that we can forget what happened,” King Kugiar said, looking to Father and me for confirmation.

“Consider it forgotten,” Father said, so I nodded my agreement.

“Excellent,” the Bajasanian King said with obvious relief in his voice. Looking at me, he continued. “Since you and yours seem to have defeated and killed the traitorous Baron, I will send his belongings to you to do with as you please.”

“And I will also find a way to reward your Clan,” King Kugiar told Father.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Father replied for me because my mouth suddenly wouldn’t work.

“If I might speak privately with Your Highness about something completely unrelated, yet extremely important to Your Majesty,” he said, motioning to the cloth bag containing the opium poppy.

The Captain of the Guard took the bag and looked inside, his face showing both his surprise and his excitement. He showed the contents to the King, being careful that nobody else saw what was in the bag.

“Is that...” King Kugiar started to ask.

“It is, Your Highness,” Father cut in quickly, “although only my son, his wives, my wives, and I know about it right now.”

“Still the tactician,” King Kugiar replied, smiling. He motioned Father off to the side and they moved about fifteen feet away where they held a quiet conversation. At one point, Father pointed east, and then south. Both men were smiling when they returned.

“Keep what your wife feels she will need, and send the rest to me under guard,” the king finished saying as they returned.

“You have my thanks, both for your bravery, and for your discovery,” King Kugiar said to me as he took my good hand and shook it.

“He’s a quiet one,” Father teased when I was still too stunned to reply. The King was laughing when he shook my father’s hand and turned away to remount his horse. The Bajasanian King quickly copied him. I was still staring when they turned and rode away.

“You can breathe now, they’re gone,” Father kidded me, playfully smacking me in the back of the head. “Yes, the King shook your hand,” he added when I looked back down at my hand and then back up at Father.

“Wow,” I finally managed to say causing everyone around us to burst out laughing.

We went back inside and finished our interrupted lunch. Everyone wanted to know what Father talked to King Kugiar about. “For now, it’s best if it remains a secret,” he replied. “In four weeks at most, everyone will know because we will need several people to harvest the first part of the crop,” he explained. “Once we make the final harvest, we’re going to plant as much of a hill as we can and will increase our plantings until the king feels that we are producing enough of this item. It may be half a hill, a full hill, or even two or more hills. Regardless, it will bring in more than five thousand gold coins this year, and probably that much every year,” he said. When I looked around the table, everyone’s mouth was hanging open in surprise just as far as mine was.

After dinner, Father called his wives and my oldest brother Fezzanar into his study, along with my wives and me. I’d only been in here twice before. The huge study is where everyone involved meets when they plan what they will plant the following year and decide what each clan member’s responsibilities will be for that year.

As soon as everyone was seated, Father put me on the spot. “Do you plan to have your property remain part of the clan lands?” he asked.

“Unless there is an unforeseen problem, I do,” I replied. “Fezzanar and Mozumbar have been trained since birth to oversee things. The last two years, you let Fezzanar make the decisions and then you reviewed them and found them sound. Our clan continues to prosper.

“Besides, I don’t think I have the necessary temperament to mediate between all the varied opinions that are offered. I much prefer to be outdoors,” I admitted, getting a grin from Father.

“I agree with your self-assessment, and it is a sign of your growing maturity that you are able to recognize and admit things like that,” Father said, smiling.

“As I stated before we left your valley, I think you and your dogs and wolves will be invaluable to the clan by exploring the mountains where others are currently afraid to venture. But now, let’s discuss what the King suggested,” Father said, his tone becoming serious.

“First, the King awarded us the captured bandits. We can either execute them or shackle them and keep them as slaves,” he explained. “Personally, I would prefer to keep them and have them quarry rock for us.”

Everyone agreed to use them to quarry rock.

“King Kugiar intends to send more troops to town hoping that some, if not all, of the caravans will come here. According to the caravan that arrived here after you returned to your valley, the trip here is a week shorter than the trip to Port Zamfara. The caravan masters, too, have heard the rumors of evil spirits in the mountains, but this one claims to have felt nothing unusual while coming here,” he continued.

“Many of the troops the king sends will be stationed here at the estate. He will pay us to house and feed them. Those troops will be here to guard the hill where he wants us to plant the seeds from this year’s crop of poppies. He banned them before because too many people were over-using the opium and became addicted to it. Enough people produced an excess of opium to sell that it was easy to obtain. Those who were addicted were far less productive and frequently turned to thievery to support themselves.

“He hopes that having us grow enough for the entire kingdom while he controls the distribution, it will reduce the availability, and hence the number of people who are addicted. He trusts us to restrict access to the plants and the seeds. We will keep enough opium each year to supply the legitimate needs of Mokoko. The rest we will sell to the king. He will appoint someone to oversee the distribution to the rest of the kingdom. Just this one enterprise will more than double what our clan makes each year,” he said, looking at me proudly. I was stunned.

“As a reward for stopping the Baron’s attack, for finding the poppies, and for agreeing to forget about the problem with the Baron, King Kugiar has granted Harazar an additional twenty-five hundred acres of land along the Zingha River. Currently, the western border of our lands is a straight line from the Tattatoo River south to the Zingha River. The new addition will be a two-mile wide strip along the Zingha River from the border of our land west to the bridge over the Zingha River. It is very fertile land with easy access to water from the river. We could even build our own gristmill and sawmill if we wanted to, but those would be future endeavors.

“He is also allowing us to claim four more hills. We should claim one that will be good for growing the poppies, one to grow more grapes for dried grapes and wine, one for olive trees to provide more olive oil, and one for pasture for the horses Harazar wants to raise. Having looked more carefully at the horses he captured, I agree with Harazar. Those horses are not the horses of bandits. I think the Baron supplied the bandits with horses and weapons that belonged to his troops.

“In a few years, we will be able to sell the King fifty or more good warhorses each year. A good warhorse will fetch between thirty and sixty gold coins. Lesser horses will fetch at least five to ten gold coins. I know that King Kugiar had a difficult time procuring enough good horses when I served, and many troops had to ride mules or lesser horses. Two of Harazar’s slaves used to raise horses and one of the other slaves used to be a soldier and trained horses for their military.

“We also need to keep our eyes open for another hill or a nearby mountain to use as a source of stone. The hill we use now has enough left to build a wall surrounding the hill for the pigs but won’t have enough to build a wall around the hill for the poppies or to build the new houses that we need,” he explained.

“There is a rocky hill near the Zingha River that would be a good source of stone,” I suggested. “The goats love to climb all over it even though there is very little forage on the hill, just a small patch on the north side.”

“Take my cousin Yufayyur to see the hill tomorrow morning,” Father instructed. “I hoped that you might know of one as nobody else had any suggestions. You seem to be quite knowledgeable about the hills and mountains and what they offer,” he praised.

“How long will it be before Harazar is able to return to his valley?” Father asked Mother Sofala.

“Probably a week or two, provided that his wives don’t abuse him too much each night,” she replied, grinning at me knowingly and making me blush.

“When he’s able, I’d like you to go with him to see the poppies and to get a better idea of how many there are. My estimate is over five hundred,” he said, getting gasps from my mothers and my brother. “We need an estimate of when they will be ready for us to harvest the sap and how many workers you will need to help you,” Father said. Mother Sofala nodded her consent.

“Do you think one hill will grow enough poppies?” I asked.

“We won’t know until next year’s harvest,” Father replied. “The King will let us know if we need to produce more or less.”

“Are we able to sell it to the merchant ships that come here to sell their goods?” I asked.

“An excellent question,” Father replied, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “It is also a question that I will have to ask of the King. I’ll send one of the soldiers that Medromar and the Magistrate use to send messages. I’ll also ask how many plants he suggests that we plant for next year.”

“Does anyone else have any comments or suggestions?” Father asked. When there were no further questions, he dismissed us.

My wives compromised when we went to bed. Each of them still wanted a turn with me, but minded Mother Sofala’s comment about how quickly I might heal.

In the morning, Zuela told me, “Mother Sofala did the test yesterday to determine if I am carrying a boy or a girl,” she said. “It’s a boy,” she announced proudly, and almost strangled me as she hugged me tightly around the neck.

When she finally released me, I had to ask. “What test did she do? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“She had me close my eyes and taste a small bit of two different herbs. One will taste sweet or the other bitter depending on whether a woman carries a boy or a girl. If they both taste sweet, she’s carrying one of each,” she giggled.

After breakfast, Zuela and Bergoa headed for town to buy things to take with us to the valley. They wanted two more large iron pots, one for rendering fat and one for making soap. They also wanted two wooden buckets to make it easier to collect lye after running water through one of the buckets filled with hardwood ashes from the cooking and smokehouse fires. They had already woven two large baskets to hold the cold ashes until we needed them for making soap or for mixing with clay to make hearthstones for the fireplace. I still needed to finish the fireplace and hearth inside the cave for cooking and heating when it was wet or cold outside.

“Please ask your father to make us more steel knives, and any other tools that you need,” I told Zuela. “He’s buying iron from us now, so we can pay him or trade him an amount of iron equal to what he will use and then pay him for the work from the coins meant to be the dowry for Kazani and Saraki.”

Father finished penning his query to King Kugiar last night. This morning he rolled it and sealed it with wax, pressing the butt of his sword’s pommel into the wax. The seal was our clan seal, a representation of a goat standing and a sheep lying beneath an olive tree. “Please ask your father to have one of his messengers deliver this to King Kugiar. Tell him that it’s not critical so anytime this week is fine,” he said to Bergoa.

“I will, Father,” she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek which made Father smile.

Kazani and Saraki accompanied me, each with her own sword and bow that they had with them when their caravan was attacked. Their father had ordered them to remain hidden and to use their weapons only as a last resort. I only carried a long dagger since I couldn’t even use my sling without the use of my right arm.

I was surprised that Father was going with us this morning. Uncle Yufayyur was waiting for us at the stable and two of the slaves already had five horses saddled and ready for us. Technically, I guess, he wasn’t our uncle. Brother, father, grandfather, son, grandson, cousin, nephew, and uncle were the terms we used to describe male relatives. If they were older than us, and not one of the first seven relationships, they were considered an uncle. If they were younger, they were a nephew, and if they were near the same age, a cousin.