Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Nowhere Man, Book One.Chapter 17 free porn video
“What?”
The idea of a female Chief went through them like a bolt of lightning, shocking their sensibilities and leaving them spluttering their ire.
“How could you have a female as Chief of your tribe? It is preposterous.”
John looked at them questioningly.
“Tell me, what does a Chief do?”
“He rules the tribe or village, and makes decisions on all the important issues.”
“So such decisions can only be made by a man?”
“Of course!”
“Why? Women have to make important decisions every day, to make sure your village can function as an effective fisherman would want it. Who makes your clothes? Who raises your children? Who makes the food into tasty dishes? Who looks after the sick and injured? For that matter, who builds the houses? I suggest that all the answers are women, so that a woman is just as qualified to make decisions for the tribe as is a man.”
“But it is traditional and thus correct: Men rule the tribe.”
“Tradition is not a valid reason for anything. It is merely an excuse for not changing how you operate. In our two tribes, men and women are treated equally, and so have equal opportunity to make decisions for themselves. My first wife decided that I needed more wives to reflect my exalted position, but she decided who they would be; not me.”
“You don’t make decisions in your own household?”
John laughed at the idea.
“Of course I do, but some decisions are made by me, others by us as a family, and some decisions are made by my first wife, in consultation with the others.”
“Others? You have more than one wife?”
“I do. Several. I keep trying to stop Numa pushing other girls my way. However, this has nothing to do with a trade link between our tribes. Please allow me to hand this soap and shampoo to your wife, so that she can assess it and advise you on it as a desirable trade item.”
“You are not going to stop talking until you can hand over your ‘samples’, are you?”
John nodded knowingly. “It would speed things up, I assure you.”
The old man gestured to one of the other men, and he got to his feet and left the meeting. He was back a few minutes later with a woman who looked of an age with the old man.
“Yes, husband?” she asked.
He pointed at John.
“This stranger has gifts of what he calls ‘soap’ and ‘shampoo’. Take them, with his instructions, and put them to the test, and then let me know what you think.”
John dug out a bar of soap and a small bag of shampoo, and gave her the basic instructions for their use. He then placed them in her hands, saying, “My name is John, if you are seeking me out, milady.”
She stared at him using this high form of address, and gave him a thin smile as she accepted the gifts. She turned without a word, and left.
John told the men, “I notice you wear nothing on your feet for protection. This is what we wear.” He pushed his feet forward and displayed his moccasins; taking off one to demonstrate the furry inside and the stiff hide sole on the bottom of the footwear.
“It helps with long journeys, or carrying heavy loads, or standing on a rough surface. Our women design and make them to suit any size and shape of foot. All we need is a drawing round your feet on a sheet of hide with your name on it. That is the pattern for making the footwear. It will fit better that way, and be more comfortable in almost any conditions.”
One of the men interrupted, “We have wooden-soled strap-on footwear for use on the boats, to avoid getting splinters in our feet or bruises from the boat in rough seas, but they are a bit bulky for use on land. These hide foot coverings could be useful for our families.”
Changi quickly cautioned him, “Be careful, Rangi. We do not know what this man proposes in trade. Let us hear what he wants, and we can then discuss what might be possible.”
He turned his face back towards John.
“What then do you propose, High Chief John?”
John took up the challenge. “We mostly eat meat, supplemented by nuts and berries, but I am sure that the addition of fish and shellfish products would be a good addition to our diet in both tribes. How would you manage to deliver fresh fish and shellfish to tribes many hours distant from here? Do you have means to keeping them fresh, or do you have to dry and salt all the fish for trading to other tribes?”
Changi regarded John with a shrewd glance. “You seem to know more than most tribes do about preservation and keeping things fresh for transport. We have looked into this problem ourselves, and have devised a double-hulled clay container for our fresh fish. It has a lid on top, but the container is not glazed, thus is slightly porous. We pour water into the gap between the inside and outside walls; enough to slowly evaporate through the walls without the load being too heavy to transport. We usually carry it between two stout poles.
The evaporation via the outside walls cools the inside container, so that the contents stay fresh for many hours. If this would be effective for your needs, all we ask is that the jars get returned to us for re-use.”
“Hah!” exclaimed John in delight. “That is an excellent solution. I think we should be able to make a deal for a regular supply of fish to each of my tribes, in exchange for footwear, meat, and for soap and shampoo, if your ladies approve of it.”
“Ah, yes; your soap. I must check on that.” Changi asked another of the men to investigate what had become of his wife and the soap. The man went off to find out.
In the meantime, while they waited, Changi asked John, “What do you inlanders do about defence, as you cannot take to the boats as we do?”
John smiled gleefully.
“It depends on the occasion. My warriors have adopted a style of action with fierce masks, which is rather threatening, and this is sometimes sufficient to deter any possible attack. One bunch of rogue wanderers appeared by our camp, but as one of our tactics is having scouts to warn us, we were ready for them. As soon as they came in sight, I killed their leader, and then his replacement, then offered to talk over the situation with their next leader. We met in the middle of the clearing in front of our cave, and we traded insults for a bit.
Eventually something happened at the cave entrance. My warriors had filed out, wearing their fighting masks – these look horrifying – and lined up silently, as if ready to attack; then the drum started.”
Changi seemed nonplussed. “Drum? What is that?”
“A device which you beat with a weighted stick, and it gives out a booming sound. It can sound quite frightening, if you hear it for the first time, and it can give out a steady beat – bang, bang, bang, bang.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Their leader looked over my shoulder, me having my back to the cave, and he looked frightened. He asked me to stop the noise of the drum; at which I warned him that getting the drum to stop would be the signal to attack his band and destroy them all, so I didn’t advise that course of action.”
“You didn’t! You threatened to annihilate them? How many warriors were there up there?”
“The frontage of the cave only allowed a row of about ten warriors at the front. All the rest would be behind them, and the man could not tell how many we had. He only had my word, and I spoke confidently about killing them all. The warriors looked efficient and competent, which they are.
That was enough for him. We came to an agreement for them to leave without being harmed, but I also insisted on them abandoning all their captives to us.”
“You not only threatened them, but demanded their captives too? These must have been their slaves for trading!”
“The captives slowed them down on their movement; that is not what they needed. I allowed him to retreat to his friends and discuss it, while I waited. I just sat there, appearing serene, sure of myself, until he came back. The drum continued to beat, and my warriors stood calmly, silently at attention.
He came back, and after a bit of bluster, agreed to my terms, and they left, abandoning their captives that my warriors later marched down and collected.”
“You killed no-one apart from their two leaders?”
“Correct. I had no wish to have any of my warriors injured in the fighting.”
“Holy Earth Mother! How many warriors did you have available?”
“At that time? About a dozen, with more in training. By the way, my warriors were all women.”
“Good grief: female warriors! What will you shock us with next?”
“Nothing, except that all the people we took into the tribe were made welcome to join, as long as they abided by our rules: men and women treated equally, and the women trained up to be able to act as warriors and scouts for the tribe. We have a policy of allowing everyone who wants, to join the tribe on that basis.”
“Your tribe must be growing then. No wonder you want to extend your food supplies!”
“Oh, that is not the problem. Many of the men who join, soon become hunters for more meat for the tribe, so we have more than enough of the basics. I just want to provide variety in our foodstuffs, and that is where your tribe comes in.”
As John finished his explanation, Changi’s wife returned, looking much improved, with her long hair flowing beautifully, and a scent from her of wild flowers. Changi was astounded at the change.
“Husband, do you approve of what you see?” she demanded of him.
Astonished, he was at first lost for words, and his wife added, “Our children and grandchildren have washed with this soap and cleaned their hair with this shampoo stuff. They all look much better for it, so we need more of this soap and this shampoo. The villagers will thank you for such an improvement.”
Changi at last told her, “I see for myself what you say. Thank you; now leave us men to discuss terms.”
She left, but John remonstrated with Changi.
“Changi, you should consult with her about the terms. I find that women drive a harder bargain then men, especially when they are treated as equals.”
Changi scowled at John. “From your tales, you are a tough bargainer as well. Come to my house, and we will talk more. I may indeed consult the women. You think they will all want to use this soap?”
“Not only that, but they will insist on their menfolk using it as well!”
Changi snorted, “Fishermen should smell of fish! It is only natural.”
They soon came to his hut, and the conversation resumed.
John reminded him, “as far as smelling clean goes, rotten fish do not smell nice, especially on the body or hair. Your hair will be easier to keep tidy if shampooed, and it will feel better as well, so do not dismiss the ideas of soap. Clean bodies can also help resist the effects of cuts and other injuries, as the soap chases off tiny bugs that cause illnesses.”
“Old wives’ tales!”
“No. Tales by this young Chief. I have seen the good effects for myself.”
“We shall wait and see what our women say, after we have traded for a good supply of your soap and shampoo stuff. How long does it last before needing replacement?”
“It depends on how much you need to use. The first use will take a lot of soap, but regular use will not need much, and a bar of soap can last weeks, if used wisely.”
“We have about a double hand of a hand of families. How many will be needed for them?”
“Children get dirty quickly, so much depends on the numbers of children, but call it one bar and one bag per family per week – seven days. Getting a supply for four weeks – sorry, one moon – means four times as many as you have families. How much fish does your evaporation container hold?”
“About a hand of hands of adult fish.”
“We would need one container of fish per day, for the same period as your soap supply is needed; one moon.”
“That sounds a lot of fish.”
“Making the soap and shampoo is a lot harder than fishing, Changi. We also have to source the materials for making the soap, and spend a lot time determining what makes a good soap. That is why the higher cost in trade, aside from the limited time span when fish can be eaten safely. If everything was simple, the trading would also be simple; but as we are also the only source of soap and shampoo, that is another factor in setting the trade terms.”
“We are also your only source for fish.” he argued.
“Within a short distance, yes, but we are looking at means of transporting perishables like fish from further away, so your position may change soon. It is better to develop good relationships than to lose friends.”
“That is a fact. Well, we can live with such an arrangement for now. Does the same apply to your footwear?”
“No. It is simply a matter of learning how to make such footwear, and our tribe has the best results so far. You may be able to make your own eventually, if someone can specialise in making footwear. The same goes for our ointments: we have experts in devising effective ointments that you can rely on to do the job as we describe. Alternatives may not be as effective or reliable. We have established a reputation for quality; that is what sells our products to other tribes. What they buy is the same high quality every time.”
Changi was puzzled. “You have a way of looking at things that is different from everyone else. Why is this?”
“Glad you spotted that, Changi. I have a long-term aim of creating a society where all the tribes cooperate, work together to the benefit of all. If such a view interests you, your village or tribe could join our group. This would mean having me as the overall head, but you would remain Chief of your own village, and run things more or less as you do now.”
“What do you get out of it, John?”
“Satisfaction. I would act as advisor, trying to ensure that all the tribes worked to the same agenda and similar sets of policies. There is no enforcement of that, merely gentle pressure to conform, so that any man or woman from one tribe could marry a person from another tribe, and still be familiar and happy with the way things operated in the new tribe.”
“I see what you mean, for it is good for a tribe’s health to have some new bloodlines from time to time. We have noticed that when a couple are too closely related, the children are sometimes deformed. That seldom happens to couples who are not related.”
“Well observed, Changi. It is a process that is called genetics. It sometimes can take several generations for bad results to show up, but the facts are there, to be seen eventually. We work on the basis that prevention is better than suffering the results, so we encourage marriage outwith the family.”
Changi told John, “We occasionally meet young men from other fishing villages, when we are at sea, and sometimes one comes and joins our village and marries a local girl. It leads to better relations with the other village, as well as good for the young couple.”
John admitted, “That is a means whereby a tribe cements good relations: having a chiefs daughter marry the son of the other Chief.”
Changi looked at John askance. “Is that what you seek here?”
John grinned, “Do I look old enough to have a marriageable son or daughter? At present my children are still in the womb, so it will be many summers before I have children of marriageable age. You have no worries there, Changi.”
“As it happens, all my surviving children are married already and have families of their own, so I have no son or daughter to offer in such an exchange.”
John heaved a sigh of relief. “I am pleased to hear that, Changi, for I have enough wives for any man to cope with, already!”
Changi chuckled, and was joined in his laughter by his councillors. “Few men have to put up with that problem, John!”
John responded, “It is a fact, Changi. The population is fairly evenly matched in males and females, so for most of the time, one man and one woman makes sense. There may be occasions, such as a disaster at sea when many men are drowned, that the widows should be taken on by other men, who the ladies find acceptable, as a responsibility to the tribe.”
“A wise thought, John. Thank the Earth Mother, such a disaster has never befallen our village. No more than one man or two have been lost overboard; mainly because we can judge the weather well, and not go out when it will be stormy soon.”
“Warfare is the only other main way to lose men, but you avoid that. Have you never been afflicted by pirates?”
“Pirates? What does that mean?”
“People who come along in boats and attack other boats for plunder.”
“I see no point in attacking fishing boats, unless you are desperate for fish!” Changi chortled.
“That is true,” John admitted, “But what if the pirates are seeking slaves to sell? Fishermen are usually strong, well-built men.”
“Fortunately we have never encountered that problem,” said Changi. “Is it something we should prepare for? How can you stop them?”
John contributed, “You have fish spears, so these could be used to fend off pirates, as long as you had plenty of spears in case a few break during the fighting. Much depends on how strong your spears are. Shields would also be helpful in preventing the pirates hurting you with their own weapons, whatever they might be.”
“What do you mean by shields? Small or large, wide or narrow? We are not used to such items.”
“On board a vessel, a shield should be large but of light weight, robust enough to stop arrows or thrown spears getting to you.”
“Arrows? What are they?”
“You have no bows and arrows? Surprising, but I suppose nets are probably unknown among inland tribes. Arrows are – look, I can show you a specialised form of arrow.” John swung his crossbow round from his back, and lifted it up.
“This a small but powerful type of bow, but most bows are a curved stave of strong supple wood with a cord fixed to both ends. Pulling the cord back adds force to the bow, and that force pushes the arrow outwards. In this case, my arrows are small and compact, with a hard tip. Normal arrows are an arm’s length, and perfectly straight. With a strong bow, arrows are effective up to about a double hand of a boat length in distance, but not always landing where you try to place them. The trick is to have a number of bow-men sending arrows into a group of enemies. That usually harms some of them. Then you load up more arrows and send them as well. Lots of arrows means lots of hits on the enemy. That normally wins the battle for you.”
“But if you have shields?”
“Shields can be raised to protect you from arrows coming down on you. That stops most of them. For every weapon there is normally a corresponding defence. That is why it is better to avoid a fight and settle things peaceably. Some enemies refuse to act peaceably and you have to enforce your will upon them by force, but they are few and far between; most tribes are peaceable.”
“But not your pirates?”
“Well, no. By definition, pirates are already violence-oriented. You might find the odd person in the crew who is there under duress, and can’t escape, but all the ones with weapons drawn and advancing should be regarded as death-wishers. They should be killed at once, if possible.”
“You are confusing me, John. Not all pirates are trying to kill or capture us?”
“In a way. If they had captured you, and you knew about tending the injured, they might keep you on board to help their injured. If that was the case, we shouldn’t kill you, should we?”
“Ah, I see what you are getting at. Some men aboard may be forced to be there.”
“Exactly. Anyway, we are talking hypothetically, as there is no indication of pirates on this coast, is there?”
“None at all; at least not at present. Is there actions we should take in preparation for such an attack? I mean, apart from shields?”
“There are always options available. Fire arrows is one possibility, where you wrap the arrow in flammable material soaked with pitch or oil, light them, and shoot them at the enemy boats. Another technique is to fix a sharp point to the front of your ship, and charge at the enemy ships. If you hit a ships, and your pointed spike goes through the wood, the ship will start to take on water. In a battle, your target should primarily be the man in charge of the enemy’s troops. Take him out, and their side will be less well organised, and so easier to defeat.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. To protect yourselves, you should have armour of sorts: several layers of hide is amazingly resistant to arrows, so a vest made of that could save your life quite readily.”
“Would leggings of that material help, too?”
John could see that these guys were no slouches. “Yes, you are right on that, but it all takes time to make, and it is much heavier than normal clothes, so don’t put these on until you suspect that trouble is brewing.”
“We would need to trade for more hides, for making such protective gear.”
“I can arrange that. Our tribes have good hunters who we can organise to take more animals and the meat and, once cured, the hides can be delivered to you. I think a first delivery could be made for free, so that your wives can experiment with making armoured vests and pants. Only once you are pleased with the results would we be seeking trades. Sound fair to you?”
“It does. Will you send a trader with the goods, to collect the fish in return?”
“I will. There is the problem of transporting your containers. We use a travois, but do not have the animals to pull it, so the man has to do that himself. I may have to send him with one or two helpers for the transport.”
“Do you not have dogs for that?”
“We have several dogs, but they are still puppies, so untrained in pulling a travois.”
“We have several dogs. We could send a dog and handler back with you, of that will assist you.”
“It would indeed. Once our pups are grown, we may want to borrow one or more of your dogs for breeding our bitches. We should be able to do the same in reverse, and both dog packs would benefit from the new blood lines.”
“Good idea. I think our tribes should get along well together. We should have visits to each other’s tribes by a wise person, to see what there is to observe.”
John concluded their conversation. “Thank you for the meal. Your women know how to cook fish! I look forward to meeting with you again in the future. Give my regards to your wife, Chief Changi.”
He got up to go, as Changi tried to tell him, “My position is not Chief, simply Village Head, Chief John.”
John waved that off. “What is in a name? It means the same thing, Changi. Farewell.”
John went to the doorway of the hut, noticing that it was a hinged door made of rough planks. Clearly woodworking was a talent among these boat-builders. It was information worth noting. They could be in the business of selling doors, if they knew how rare that talent was.
As he walked through the village, he was met by Changi’s wife, who pressed him to accept a parcel. “It is a prepared meal of fish and herbs, for your wife.”
John thanked her kindly, shaking her hand, placed it in his bag, and set off on his homeward journey. He glanced up at the direction of the sun, guessing at the time of day. Having eaten a lunchtime meal, and estimating how long the walk home would take, he reckoned he might make it before the next delivery from up-time. He was interested to see what sort of gun they would send. An automatic weapon would go through ammunition at a prodigious rate, so logic dictated a non-automatic weapon, but these guys back when didn’t appear to apply logic to anything.
When he eventually got back to the clearing, he realised he was too late for the event, as a lone sheep was standing in the clearing, bleating mournfully. He did not blame it, for sheep are normally found in flocks. Being alone is not to their liking, except when feeding on a good patch of grass.
He wondered if a gun had arrived strapped to the sheep. A sheep was larger than a puppy, so could cope with the heavier weight of a gun – or perhaps two of them.
He approached the cave, and found Vickie and Sheila watching him arrive. He called out just as they did.
“What arrived with the sheep?” as they called to him, “How did the visit go?”
They all laughed at the confusion, and as John got closer he said to them, “My question is easier to answer. What arrived with the sheep?”
Sheila volunteered, “More bloody ammunition in magazines; still no gun!”
John declared, “Damn! They promised, but someone has decided that more ammo is needed before they send a gun. It makes sense, after a fashion. For a gun to have any extent of viable usage, you need a good supply of ammunition; even then, the reliable life of small arms ammo is about ten years. After that, whether it fires or not is anybody’s guess, so the ammunition they send would have to be replaced within ten years; a tricky operation if the time mechanism is not easily variable. I would still prefer a decent supply of bolts and some extra crossbows.”
Vickie interrupted to ask him, “How did your diplomatic mission pan out? Were the natives friendly?”
John smiled at her apparent assumptions. “I was surprised at what I found. The fishing village is entirely geared up to the water, even for defence. They don’t do agriculture; seldom eat meat, but trade to get hides for leather. They speak the same language as the others here, but keep themselves to themselves. They are open to trade, and the women took to our soap and shampoo with gusto. The demand is there. All they can offer in exchange is sea-fish products, but they have devised what in effect is a coolbag, being refrigerated by evaporation of water, so the fish should still be in good condition after a trip here of half a day.”
“That’s all they can offer? Fish? How about shells for ornaments, and larger shells like scallops for plates?”
John was reminded of what he had seen and heard. “I think they have shellfish, so I expect they can provide what you want. What struck me more was that they have wooden doors on their huts. They build wooden fishing boats, so they have worked out how to make planks for the boats, and have adapted these to make doors with leather hinges. I would be happy to see us secure doors as well as fish products from them. Oh, and they don’t have footwear except for the men doing the fishing: wooden pattens or clogs: you know, wooden soles for foot protection in the boats.”
“They don’t wear them on land?”
“Not normally. I think they are too awkward for walking more than a few yards. That is why I think they are in the market for moccasins.”
Vickie moved to another topic.
“John? The daughters of Mongo? The eldest one keeps asking about you. It seems she is fixated on marrying you, as that was what her parents had planned. She has decided that she should go through with that plan, as a memorial to her father. It is a bit extreme, to devote your life to an unknown man, purely as a testimonial to your father.”
“Historically, it was common for royal families to intermarry in order to cement relations between two dynasties. That tradition probably goes back to around this time, when tribal rivalries could be dangerous. As a Chief, marrying your children into other tribes would be the best guarantee of future peace. The girl would be brought up expecting that to happen to her. She would not have any conception of a love match, merely a dynastic union where she was a chess piece; fully aware of it and accepting this as her lot.”
“God grief! What an outlook on life!”
“It was not that bad, Vickie. Marrying a Chief was a good life, compared to other members of the tribe. All she had to do was produce children that would be an amalgam of both tribes.”
Vickie snorted, “IF she survived. Death in childbirth was not uncommon, back then, you know. What is childbirth like back here, John? Would Numa know? Dare we ask her?”
John had a brainwave. “Why don’t we search through the collection of books, and see if there is one covering pregnancy and childbirth? It would make sense to include such a work, for the benefit of whoever was sent here. They would want that person to have a load of kids to project their power in future years, wouldn’t they?”
“Makes sense to me,” admitted Vickie. “See if you can find a book on obstetrics, darling. I know you have had some training, but some written data would be useful to refer to beforehand.”
“So what about this girl of Mongo’s?” asked John. “What approach should we take? I am including all three of you ladies for advice.”
Sheila offered, “It depends on how soon she would be able to have sex, John. Remember, sex here invariably means pregnancy shortly after. You don’t want a girl whose body is too small for childbirth, to get pregnant.”
Numa gave a derisive laugh. “Young girls have been having babies for many generations, Sheila. Being young has never stopped them.”
“But, Numa, how many of them died in childbirth, compared to older and larger females?” She peered intently at Numa’s face, challenging John’s first wife.
Numa thought for a moment, then nodded.
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