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.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

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.