Captain Smith’s orders were simple. Investigate the going-ons of the Boers and why exactly trade in Port Natal has fallen. He checked the accounts of Boer traders, and none of them closed their accounts. They did engage in trade, although limited.

As the bank manager in Port Natal explained while flipping through the pages, the number of trades the Boer fell month by month. Somehow, they were able to source these goods from other parties.

With nothing left to dig from Port Natal, and with merchants generally uncooperative, he rode off with his officers along with the Khoikhoi Cape Mounted Riflemen (CMR). The local farmers did not like the presence of the CMR, since they were all Khoikhoi with guns. And Captain Smith only knew how poorly treated the Khoikhoi were with the poor labour conditions on Boer farms in the Eastern Cape, so many of them signed up in droves to join the British army.

His superiors were only too relieved to have them moved away from the local settlements, at least they would receive fewer complaints about the scary Khoikhoi with guns.

Thus, these men were some of the most loyal and bravest men he had ever fought with. If he had to give orders to either a Khoikhoi or a British soldier, he would pick Khoikhoi any day.

He examined his soldiers’ expressions as they rode towards Pietermaritzburg. It was a settlement full of the detestable Boers that had enslaved many of them back in Cape Colony. It was only when the British came over to ban slavery that many men became free. But they were no different from serfs, who had to labour on their master’s land for sustenance.

And here they think they could restart their lives here? Then they were sorrily mistaken.

Captain Smith barked out orders to his officers, who would repeat them to their Khoikhoi soldiers. Do not spark an engagement with the local Boers. God knows what would happen to him with their small force of around 50, the rest left in Port Natal, trapped in Pietermaritzburg. Most important of all was the likely chance his superiors would have him dismissed.

The first thing he felt as he reached the outskirts was that he was extremely unwelcome. Those farmers were reaching for their guns watching the British force intrude upon their sovereignty. No doubt they were more afraid of the Khoikhoi taking revenge for past injustices. But his men could restrain themselves, those who can’t already left.

Pietermaritzburg was a developing town, but he could see shit plastered on the ground everywhere. Farms were worked by either Boer, Zulu or Xhosa hands. All of them sent suspicious gazes to the British troops. The most vitriolic hate he could glean was from the Xhosas who looked at him as if he was cowshit. He almost felt like shooting that Xhosa to teach him a lesson, but he focused on his mission.

Men on their Cape horses could be seen in the distance, and they rode towards their party. Raising his hand, he and his mounted infantry stopped and waited for the men to catch up to their positions.

Standing about 10 metres apart from one another, the two parties looked towards one another.

One of them spoke up in English, “Hello Captain, I did not expect to see you here. Do you know that you’re violating our sovereignty?”

Captain Smith’s lips curled up, “That’s what you insist. But the British traders all tell me that you wish to be treated as fellow British citizens, so I think I will do just that.”

“Governor Napier was supportive of our Republic, so what you’re doing is going against his wishes. Are you sure you wish to continue this?”

Smith snorted.

“You Boers trekked wherever you wished, entering elven territory, and leaving as if you owned the place. Yet when I try to do the same, you say I violate your sovereignty? I have a task from Governor Napier, and unless you wish for the might of the British Empire to fall upon your necks, I suggest getting out of my way. Where is Andries Wilhelmus Jacobus Pretorius? Bring him to me.”

Another young man started speaking up.

“What might? The Napoleonic wars are over. And your citizenry is displeased with the bloated military. Garrisons are being downsized across the world. So, tell me, are you sure the British army can keep the Cape Colony?”

Captain Smith frowned. He studied the young wiry man. He did not look like any of the farmers who spent years working in the fields. And he was also knowledgeable about home affairs.

“I can assure you, whatever we mobilize in the Cape and overwhelm your forces. You have what? Around a couple of Commandoes? We can mobilize hundreds. And our Khoikhoi troops you see? This is only a mere drop in the bucket. Let’s not talk about the troops all over the world that will be deployed in the Cape if you dare to start another conflict. What happened to Queen Hintsa of the Xhosa can be repeated.”

Captain Smith gloated.

Jan frowned. That man was bluffing. The British government during this period has no appetite for total war since they were too busy paying off the debts incurred during the Napoleonic wars. If not, they could have easily conquered the Xhosa and dispossessed them during the Sixth Frontier War.

Pretorius rode over with Potgieter and stoically looked over the small British force.

“I am Andries Pretorius, how can I help you, Captain?”

The Captain looked over the Boer leader, who was dressed exquisitely for the occasion. Unlike the rest of the Boers, he wore a suit and a cattleman hat. By his side, he held his gun with his left arm while the right held onto the reigns of his Cape Horse. His chin was cleanly shaven, unlike his upper lip where a small brush has grown.

“The Governor sends his regards, Pretorius. We are curious about the decrease in trade flowing between Port Natal. He’ll like to know if you need any assistance here in Natal. It’s not due to troubles involving the local elves, right?”

“Of course, captain. All is fine. I can assure of you that. It’s just that we procured everything we need from Port Natal. For example guns, I don’t suppose that is something that needs to be bought every month or two, don’t you agree?”

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“I see. Well then, do you mind accommodating us? I will be spending some time in your little Republic so that I can write up a report to the governor. I wish for no trouble; the Xhosa are already a handful to deal with.”

“That can be arranged. But the bill will be sent to your superiors.”

The small Khoikhoi garrison in Pietermaritzburg had most of the townspeople spooked. These are elves with guns. What’s stopping them from turning them against the townsfolk? Rumours began spreading abound that the British are here to ravage their wives with the Khoikhoi. Thus, many decided to stay at home with a gun close by.

Pretorius tapped on his desk.

“I don’t suppose they have any designs on the Republic?”

Potgieter shook his head.

“They need all their men to garrison the Eastern Cape from the Xhosa. If they annex the Natalia Republic, they’ll have to garrison this from the Zulu. And it won’t be a small garrison. With the Zulus North and West, if they wish to hold onto this territory, they will need a sizeable garrison.”

“Then there’s nothing I can do. We’ll adopt a wait-and-see approach.”

Pretorius turned to look at Potgieter.

“Potgieter, apologies for the disruption caused by the British intrusion. So, why do you want to see me in person?”

“It’s about the trade route. You see for both of us to use it effectively, we’ll need to both announce it at the same time. So I’m would like to discuss how we’ll be handling the announcements.”

“Un.”

It was a short discussion. They decided to set a date and time to announce the establishment of the new safe route between Potchefstroom and Pietermaritzburg. They pushed it to a week from now due to the troubles the British garrison brought.

“Well then, I guess that’s all. Hope no troubles come about,” Potgieter bid his rival goodbye and rode back to Potchefstroom. He didn’t want to linger to see the faces he knew back in Natal, the same ones who accused him of Commando Uys' death.

Port Mpande, how should he put it… They were only here to grab some cattle so the Xhosa servants could be dismissed but…

As the men sat in their wagons or rode back to the port, they cannot help but see their wives prancing about with firearms all around the town.

Pietje was most shocked when his wife, Janneke, greeted him with an entourage of women. They all had guns in their hands.

“How have things been?” Jan asked, poking his head through the interior of the wagon.

“All fine. The opium shipment should be coming in a week or so. Traded with an Indian merchant, promised to be discreet,” Janneke explained as one of the women handed over the documents regarding the deal made.

Jan took the parchment and eyeballed it before handing it back.

“One thing I notice… is that most of the men are missing. Where are the bureaucrats?”

They handed over another document.

He eyeballed it once more. This time he scanned it carefully once he saw the word ‘suffrage’.

Men and Women have the right to vote.

“You know what this means right? It means you will have to also accept the responsibility of defending this town in a Commando.”

“Of course,” Janneke concurred.

He shrugged. Well, it was one of the things he wanted to be done and dusted with. He didn’t care how it was done, one less burden off his chest.

Fortunately, they were cooperative in handing over power once they realized Jan had no intentions of stripping away Women’s Suffrage.

Russell got his position as Head of Administration.

Pietje got his position as Head of the Boer Zuid Elfrica Coöperatie.

Somehow, news spread around fast that they were back. As he was finding some way to compensate his men for the expedition, a lot of them flooded into his office.

“Commando Jan, we demand the removal of Women’s Suffrage. It is against the book,” A man spoke up holding his bible.

“It is a sin. Men have their roles in society. Women have their roles in society. A woman cannot do a man’s role,” Sarel’s pastor of the Dutch Church concluded.

Jan clicked his tongue.

If he insisted on keeping this, those men would have him lynched. A bright idea came to his head once more. Hey… women can vote, right?

“Very well, we’ll hold a referendum to see if we should keep it,” Jan proposed, and all the men were lost for words.

But before dealing with that, he focused on compensation. Now, before Potgieter left, he handed over some gold nuggets so that he could procure goods to send over to Potchefstroom.

It would be unfair to not compensate the men for coming along with him. So, he set aside a couple of gold nuggets for the procurement of cattle for the Xhosa servants and for every man that came along with him. For each Boer that perished on the trip, he would give their families a gold nugget so that they could live the rest of their lives well. The same offer does not extend to the dead Xhosa families, but he decided to hand their families more cattle to compensate for their loss.

This way, the Xhosa would know they would be rewarded if they do good work, and they will develop a good working relationship for the foreseeable future.

Writing up some documents, he handed them to Pietje for him to carry out the cattle procurement since he handled the cooperative.

Writing up more documents, he handed Russell a couple of gold nuggets as well as orders to hand them to their families.

Breathing in, he thought about whether he should personally go to inform the families of their loss. He didn’t want to do it, but he had to.

“I will come along. Give me a couple of minutes.”

Finally, the referendum on Women’s Suffrage. Now, since every man and woman got to vote, if things went as intended it would be a 50-50 split. However, not every woman would support this measure. With women’s suffrage, they would be expected to serve in Commando groups if need be.

However, who says that only Boers had to vote? This is a referendum regarding Port Mpande affairs. Shouldn’t the Zulu have a say in it?

He grinned as he realized what the results would be. What will the men say then? Will they cry foul since the elves were involved in the voting? Or will they accept the results? He doubted they would pack up and leave without their wives. Because according to their books, it is sinful.

With women now politically active, he could use this new faction to crush any dissidents. But he also knew that while this new faction was a tool, he could very easily cut himself with it. What’s stopping this new faction from going above and beyond and imposing a matriarchy based on what the elves are doing? So, he cannot suppress the traditionalist faction too hard if only to keep the women’s faction in check.

Cracking his knuckles, he hid the document under his desk away from prying eyes and went with Russell.

He didn’t want to do it. Opening the door, where the wives or the children ask where their father went. Or he could say that he was sorry and tell them a story of they died heroically fighting against the elves. Dropping a gold nugget in their wives’ hands, telling them to ensure that their children will grow out well again and again.

It was a painful thought, and he rather not repeat this. But what about the elves he and his group slaughtered? How did their families feel?

There was one way to rid himself of that guilt. They are savages, irredeemable savages that need the cleansing touch of Western civilisation. Aye, that was what most of the colonisers think, but that was the easy way out.

It’s kill or be killed. This isn’t the modern world. This was the Victorian age, an age of genocide. Age of imperialism. An age of colonization. An age of nationalism. Some of the nastiest things were conducted in this age which makes up many of our national identities in the modern world. The clash of the working and capitalist classes. The clash of liberalism and monarchies of old. The clash of cultural and ethnic identities.

And it’s not like he didn’t have blood on his hands. Getting the Zulus into the Free States killed thousands who were peacefully living after Shaka’s Mfecane. Many were displaced, becoming refugees in foreign lands, against foreign tribes who assimilated them. What would you call a person who did in the modern world? A war criminal. What would you call a person who did this in the Victorian age? A hero. It’s a joke.

It was just that most of it were done in the Victorian game he used to play, abstracted with numbers. Where he committed wars just for the glory of the nation he playing. Millions dead because he wanted more land for his nation. But after all, that, could he abstract everything away to that of a simple game?

Maybe, his modern thinking needs to be changed and adapted to the current environment. Yes, he would push for the liberal reforms that would strengthen his town, but for those that would weaken it, he would have them hammered down.

He is a Boer now. His priority is the Boers under his command. His second priority is to ensure those Boers are safe with all the elves around him, and that means cooperation. His third priority was the eviction of the British from South Elfrica to prevent the annexation of the Natalia Republic. And what better opportunity than the Seventh Frontier War with the Xhosa?