"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 sê.” (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.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
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.