“What else? As you say, Potgieter, I’m here for the gold.”
“That wasn’t what you told your men. The looks on their faces as they looked at the little gold nugget, I showed were not the faces of men in the know.”
Potgieter smirked.
“Your physique might not be of someone in Zoutpansberg, but your cunning might fit right in.”
Potgieter straightened his posture and leaned forward.
“Commando Jan, let us be open with one another. I do not know you, but you know a lot about me. So, before we continue our conversation. Tell me about yourself.”
The phrase “Tell me about yourself” gave Jan some PTSD from real-world interviews. Moving his mind to focus on the matter at hand, he tried to recall everything he had.
“The name’s Jan Boddewijk, son of Veldkornet Vincent Boddewijk in Pietermaritzburg. After the installation of Queen Mpande onto the Zulu throne, I decided to settle in St Lucia Bay. There, I constructed a small port with the help of the Zulu. I believe that’s about all,” Jan shrugged.
“Port? I believe you are talking about Port Mpande. No matter how much Pretorius talked about seizing Port Natal, I don’t think he would carry it out. He’s not that mad to attack Port Natal. Port Mpande is very small. Almost as if it is meant to be a smuggler’s haven. Evading Port Natal’s taxes, eh?”
Jan kept silent.
“A rather young fellow you are. Your father must have supported you every step of the way. I’m amazed that you are even able to organize this expedition. As a mere Veldkornet to Pretorius, I doubt he would be able to send all his loyalists with you. So, I believe the men follow you?”
Jan nodded.
“Then I must ask, whose behalf are you acting here? Pretorius’ representative, or for yourself?”
“Treat my presence here as not one affiliated with Pretorius, but one who represents himself.”
Potgieter smirked.
“I can work with that. I would even think Pretorius would need to get his head checked if he sent you as a representative. No offence.”
“Alright then, you don’t have much to say about yourself. Then let me tell you about myself. You might have heard many stories painting me as a villain in Natal. But I’m just a man trying to get by. I left during the Great Trek, but the Sixth Frontier War with the Xhosa was going on, so I had to wait till the coast was clear. Heading into Transvaal, we settled by the Vet and Vaal River.”
Potgieter paused to catch his breath.
“I’ll need to tell you another story so that you can understand better. You see, Shaka Zulu had many lieutenants. There was one known as Mzilikazi. She left the Shaka after her good service and headed to Transvaal. There, she conquered much of the region and founded the Ndebele elves. Another word to describe them is, Matabele.”
“I and other trekkers grouped up to expel her from the lands with the locals. Most notably, the Tswana natives who were conquered by her assisted us in our endeavour. We fought her and sent her off. She left, and we stayed.”
“Now here’s the part you might be interested in. Zoutpansberg. Louis Tregardt and Hans van Rensburg, trekker leaders, had ventured there. They found that the natives had gold. Some men stayed and panned to obtain gold. Now, naturally, every man there got greedy, and it turn into a hellhole.”
“We’re talking about men getting shot because they went to the wrong spot to pan gold. Very quickly, the men broke up into separate factions dividing up the plots by the Doorn River. It got so dangerous, that the men left their wives here for fear of what would happen to them once they were shot.”
Potgieter clicked his tongue.
“Those men are idiots. Even if they got their gold, what can they buy? No merchant dares to step foot in the Zoutpansberg because they’re afraid of getting shot and having all their goods stolen. And so, all the gold has to flow through Potchefstroom, where the merchants gather.”
“You profit off the chaos in Zoutpansberg and once the chaos dies down, you plan to move in and set up shop.”
“Correct. They’ll kill themselves off and then they’ll start begging for some authority to be put in place. Who else but Hendrik Potgieter? We’ve done business over the years; they know I am a reliable guy. I won’t shoot them to steal their gold. I trade to obtain their gold.”
“Why not speed up the process? You and I, we could team up and conquer Zoutpansberg.”
Potgieter shook his head.
“Maybe if you’re name is Andries Pretorius, then I’ll consider your words carefully. But to be frank, who are you? And what experience do you have in fighting? Don’t be stupid and get yourself killed over some gold nuggets. They are worthless if there is no merchant to exchange for goods for.”
“The British merchants here give you lousy deals. By trading with us in Port Mpande, we skirt British taxes and can get you goods for the cheap,” Jan offered.
Potgieter shook his head once more.
“How far are we from the nearest traders? Plus, I must secure the gold from the Elfrican tribes. Once they know our wagons contain gold, nothing would stop them from attacking us. Even if relations with the Tswana elves were good, greed can turn the best of friends into enemies.”
“Pretorius installed Queen Mpande on the Zulu throne. Surely, he could get the Zulus in the area to secure the wagons.”
“Tell me how far away is Mpande from the Zulus here. Very. She’s a new queen who needs time to assert her authority around the place. Any Zulu chiefs here are independent. We’ll have to negotiate with each chief one by one across the stretch of land to ensure we can secure the goods. But tell me, what’s stopping them from attacking the wagons? Give them a gold nugget as tribute? Once they know there are ten gold nuggets in the wagon, then they’ll attack the wagon and seize all the gold nuggets instead.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
And with that, discussions ended with Potgieter, and nothing was gained.
Jan sighed.
The trip was a wasted one. He doubted any of his men would dare to venture to Zoutpansberg after hearing Potgieter’s warning. He also didn’t dare to go there.
Going back to the camp outside of Potchefstroom, he kept a confident face and strutted into camp. Summoning Pietje and Russell into one of the wagons, they began discussions.
“We have two options. Somehow get the gold in Zoutpansberg without getting ourselves killed, or head back home.”
“If it was any other man, I would not listen to him. But this is Hendrik Potgieter, he is not any other man. It would be stupid to head to Zoutpansberg. I rather go home and see my wife,” Pietje commented.
“I agree with Pietje. Gold might be good. But is it worth dying for? I rather live.”
Wise words.
Turning around meant he needed to find some Elfrican tribe, attack them and ravage them for their cattle so that he could properly compensate the men. On one hand, he had options. Sotho, Zulu, Khoikhoi, San and Tswana. Now, on one hand, attacking the Zulu Chiefs here would mean little repercussions when he headed back to Natal. But they still paid lip service to Mpande, so it might fracture relations with the Zulu even further.
There was the Sotho. Queen Moshoeshoe represented them on their behalf. But the Sotho here did not fall under her, an attack or two wouldn’t have many repercussions. The problem is if the remnants might fall under her banner, then she will not be pleased with the attack. Fracturing relations with the Kingdom of Lesotho is a bad long-term decision.
That left Khoikhoi and San. He ruled out the San because they didn’t have cattle in the first place. Now, Khoikhoi. Independent Khoikhoi chiefdoms were non-existent since most Boers absorbed them as servants. He will have to spend quite some time to find one and attack them.
That left the Tswana. And unless he never wanted to step foot in Potchefstroom again, it was a horrible decision.
An astonishingly handsome man galloped up to their camp. His skin colour was mixed. The Boers, not worried about an attack of any kind just looked towards the newcomer and assumed he was one of Potgieter’s men. They continued lying about, trying to read the bible in their hands.
Bristly eyebrows, well-defined cheekbones paired with a hawkish nose. With a confident demeanour, he dismounted from his Dutch pony and bowed as the Commando and Veldkornets got off their wagon.
“Greetings gentlemen, I heard you were asking about Zoutpansberg. Why I hail from Zoutpansberg. How can I help you?”
The Boer smiled and looked towards the trio.
The trio looked towards one another before their eyes slanted.
They invited him into a wagon and sat around him. Pietje and Russell sat by his side, while Jan across him.
The newcomer’s attention was captured by the artillery mounted in the wagon.
“Interesting design. I assume every wagon has one of these. You could level Potchefstroom.”
“And get us killed in the process. So, since you brought yourself to us. Please explain who exactly are you?”
“The name’s Sjaak de Buys, and I hail from Buysdorp, close to Zoutpansberg.”
“De Buys? By any chance, are you related to Coenraad?” Pietje asked.
“Why yes! All who live in Buysdorp do.”
Pietje’s eyes widened and took some time to comprehend it.
“Can someone explain to me what you all are talking about? Seems like a Dutch thing.” Russell asked.
Jan decided to play his role and pretended to understand. He sagely agreed with Pietje.
“I’ll give you a summary. He is the biggest elf-fucker in Elfrica. I’m pretty sure he fucked every elf he laid his eyes upon. Chiefs, slaves, their mothers, and their daughters. I don’t know about the last one, but some say that might be true. Some claim that he has around 315 children. Anyway, most of them trekked with him to Buysdorp,” Pietje gossiped.
“That’s about it,” Sjaak agreed.
Jan tried his best to restrain his laughter. Perhaps reality is truly stranger than fiction. Why does Coenraad’s story sound like a certain adult animation that shall not be named?
Russell was dumbfounded by the absurd story.
All he could say was, “What?”
Jan started bursting out in laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Sjaak asked, a little bit insulted.
Slapping his hand against his knee, he laughed even louder.
“Heh, I’m sorry, heh, ha. It just sounds so stupid,” Jan shook his head from side to side.
“Well, his descendent is right before us. When my father told me I too didn’t believe it, but well… it seems some men are more naturally gifted than others,” Pietje also became downcast.
“Elf Harem! Is that funny to you?” Sjaak questioned, and Jan continued laughing.
It took some time for Jan to calm down, but he let out a giggle or two whilst looking at Sjaak.
“It seems you have inherited Coenraad’s genes. I’m sure any elf would spread their legs once they see you. I’m pretty sure I would too if I were a woman. So how much action you got?” Pietje bumped his elbow onto Sjaak’s arm.
Sjaak sighed and brushed his hair to the side. Sure enough, pointy ears were revealed.
“I have no comment. But can we please focus on the topic at hand?” Russell insisted, and Jan took a deep breath. The air in his lungs was all exhaled, and he felt great.
“Alright. You see, the lawlessness is not something we want Buysdorp since we live so near to Zoutpansberg. So, we would wish if someone could get rid of the chaos there, or put those Boers in their place,” Sjaak explained.
“You’re a half-elf yes? Then surely you would have magic of some kind. And considering how your ancestor, elf-fuck, heh. Sorry, I mean Coenraad spread his love amongst so many elves. Surely, you could pool your magic and seize Zoutpansberg.”
Sjaak sighed.
“Theoretically, we could. But we will take heavy casualties. Those men are good at fighting. They are good at fighting amongst themselves. It won’t be easy. We have been petitioning Potgieter to act, but he refuses to do so. It seems you all are interested in the Zoutpansberg gold. So, if you’re interested, we could work together and seize Zoutpansberg together.”
Jan’s eyes narrowed. It was obvious how Sjaak saw them. Meat shields. They were there to soak up most of the casualties while Sjaak helped in a supporting role with their elven magic. Then, once they are sufficiently weakened, it was likely they would find a dagger behind their back.
Potgieter had his reasons, and Jan didn’t doubt the man’s greed. He wanted to secure the source of the gold. But there was a big reason why he wasn’t successful in the first place. Potgieter didn’t want to say, and it was unlikely it was going to come from his lips.
“We’ll think about it,” Jan quickly replied, wanting Sjaak out of here, not wanting to sniff more information from them.
“I’ll be in town. To conduct some trade with the local merchants. If you want to find me, dispatch one of your men to Potgieter, he’ll bring you to me,” Sjaak respectably left the wagon.
Now, multiple factions were vying for Zoutpansberg. Why be someone else chess piece when you can be the player?
The first chess piece was Potgieter and Potchefstroom. If he could force the man to assault Zoutpansberg due to some reason, then maybe they would have a chance. He would need to broker an agreement to share the gold. Actually, no. There was no need to do so. As long as Potgieter had to trade with the Natal Boers, gold would come into his hands anyway. Two problems had to be solved here.
Then, there were the Tswana elves. They must have a couple of chiefs by Zoutpansberg, he’ll need to ask around. Potgieter would be a good man to open up diplomatic channels with, after all, there was nothing he would lose, and everything to gain. For the man would be seen as the Boer that connected the Tswana elves with other Boers.
The third chess piece was the descendants of Coenraad. They were perfect auxiliaries and knew the land well. Their trustworthiness is questionable. No matter how much they said they didn’t desire the gold, it was obvious they very much desired it. This two-facedness is problematic for all future dealings.
The fourth was the Zoutpansberg Boers. He needed to somehow get them to cooperate with him. But from Potgieter’s tales, it was unlikely that was ever possible. And it was likely there weren’t united in the first place. If he wanted to play that chess piece, he likely had to support one of the numerous factions vying for the gold in Zoutpansberg. Then when that faction became dominant, what use would they have of him? Won’t they throw him away? He needed a counterbalance to his chosen faction, and the perfect ones were the other chess pieces.
And last, of all, was Pretorius. There was a simple way he could resolve this. Get Pretorius to mobilize some men, work with Potgieter and march onto Zoutpansberg. But would he be willing to do so? He didn’t doubt that Pretorius didn’t know about the gold in Zoutpansberg, but why haven’t he acted? He must have known about the difficulty of transporting them to Natal, which was why he didn’t bother. He could either work on convincing Pretorius to help or act by himself.
This was going to be difficult. But since the reward was gold, then it was worth it.
That reminded him, how were affairs back in Port Mpande?