The Gaza Empire ruled by Queen Soshangane was in the North of the Zulu Kingdom. The only issue was contacting them. How does one contact them without getting them or their messenger killed?

Everyone in the region knows they trade in slaves. So, it was as easy as pretending to be a Portuguese plantation owner and waltzing up to the Nguni elves and asking for slaves. But that would bring one to the Gaza Chief managing transactions. And there was a reason why they carried out transactions instead of activities by the Queen’s Great Palace. Thus, they had little to no political clout whatsoever. Even if one asked for a referral, it was likely it wouldn’t do much.

Any person would have to climb the chain of command of Gaza Chiefs before finally gaining an audience with Queen Soshangane herself. And with little way to bypass the matter, he dispatched a Boer to take a small ship from Port Mpande and sail to Mozambique, where the Portuguese established their plantations. With a stipend, the bureaucrat was to procure the clothing of a Portuguese plantation owner.

The bureaucrat waltzed up to a local market where a Gaza elf was bringing over slaves. The Boer, with a confident swagger like any slaveowner, walked up to the elf and spoke in English, “I want to see Queen Soshangane,”

Reading the report written by the man, Jan slapped himself for assigning such a dumb man to do this. Why the fok would the Queen want to see a random Portuguese plantation owner? And hello, at least bother to learn Portuguese or something, don’t just blurt it out in English!

The elf, foreign to the English tongue, blinked and took some time to comprehend his words. He checked on the slaves, rowdy as they were but cowed after a demonstration on one of their fellow compatriots.

The Boer nervously looked around; it appears mentioning the name of the Queen had many elves looking right at him. He reminded himself that he is a Portuguese plantation owner and regained his previous confidence.

“As I’ve said, I want to see Queen Soshangane,” The Boer pretended to be a dumb young master.

The elf shook his head and ignored the man. He herded the slaves into an enclosure and waited for other Portuguese plantation owners to come and gawk at their wares. They and their numerous demands were something the elf didn’t understand. They wanted workers on their plantations, there was plenty to be found, why bother inspecting every slave? For the females, he could understand somewhat, but why be so fussy?

The Boer had the gall to write back such a lousy report. And he even expected more funds from him! Jan was grinding his teeth and wanted to write every swear word known to men in every language right into the paper.

Taking a deep breath, he decided not to make such a negative judgement. The Boer might be a bad report writer, and things couldn’t have been that bad. And he supposed the man needed some time to establish his presence before he could even meet with a Gaza Chief. He wrote that the man should procure some slaves so that he could establish himself in the region. As for what to do with the slaves. Hand them over to the Portuguese that owned the biggest plantation in the town as gifts and befriend the man.

He hoped that the man would write a better report.

Week 2 of the Boer’s espionage in Mozambique

No Portuguese man approached the bureaucrat even if he was dressed in Portuguese wear. Every Portuguese man somehow figured out that the man trying to converse with them in English was a foreigner. Their children were somehow more receptive to the Dutchman, due to their education in multiple languages as well as their innocence.

The man went to the market and met up with the same Gaza elf that he had disturbed a week prior. The Gaza took one look at the man and quickly looked away. Yes, pretend that the insane man pretending to be Portuguese did not exist, perhaps he would be left alone.

“You there, I want to buy some slaves,” The Boer declared in lousy Portuguese showing the Portuguese coins he obtained, exchanged with some currency brokers.

The Gaza elf blinked and took some time to comprehend his words. He shrugged and presented the man with the haul sent over from various Gaza Chiefs.

“The men over here are good for plantations. Nothing special to add on. You are welcome to inspect them, please don’t,” The elf explained in Portuguese, becoming more confident after seeing his words fly over the Boer’s head.

The Boer pointed at a couple of elves that had their hands bound with rope. He picked them at random, unable to tell the difference between them.

“Excellent, since you’re a man, assuming you’re one considering the small bulge in your pants, would you have a look at the women? All the good ones are already sold. But there might be some you might be interested in due to your low standards,” The elf mocked, and the Boer could only stare at the elf, confused about his words.

The women were bare, with little to no clothing protecting their modesty. It is to allow any slave buyers to carefully inspect the product, for the male humans are very particular about the female elves they bought.

The Boer put on the best poker face he could muster and controlled his urges. The elf looked down and found victory. In rapid succession, the Boer pointed at a couple of beautiful elves. The Gaza elf grinned and grabbed all the foreigner’s coins. Since this dumb foreigner did not know how the market worked, he assumed that was the actual price. But since the foreigner didn’t argue, the Gaza elf saw fit to give himself a huge tip.

And the day ended with the Boer gaining an elf slave harem.

“This jas! Fok, why did I send this horndog!” Jan wrapped his fingers around his forehead, rubbing it constantly to prevent the oncoming migraine. Once he resolved to have the man fired and forced to do community service once he came back, he steadied himself and continued reading the report.

The next line in the report was a single line.

I did not have sexual relations with these women.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Sure, buddy, sure. Like how Clinton did not have sexual relations with that woman. Jan crumpled up the paper with rage and continued reading.

The Boer went to the local Portuguese administrator, the regulo or the one who just so happened to be a Portuguese plantation owner. The regulo eyebrows shot up as he found the crazy fake Portuguese man that many of his fellows complained about coming up to his plantation.

“Hello there, I have slaves for you,” The Boer explained in English.

The regulo froze up and recognised the English in the man’s words. As the business language was English, the regulo picked it up and codeswitched to English.

“Uhh, thank you, sir?” The regulo looked towards the slaves. The males were acceptable, even if they were a little defiant. He would have to spend some time breaking them. But free labour was free labour, why should he say no?

And the women? Uhm, he saw other landowners buy the pretty ones, so they were mediocre. He supposed he could gift them to hardworking Elfrican slaves as a reward to keep them in line. And if they have children, well, it would be hard for either of them to escape, won’t they?

His wife, on the other hand, took one look at the female slaves and saw it as an upfront. No doubt, as written by the Boer in his account, the Portuguese woman was insecure and felt insecure about her femininity when compared to the elven slaves he brought.

“Pedro! I said no female slaves! Why the porra did you buy a whole harem of them!”

Pedro’s daydreaming was interrupted as his wife started yelling in his face. Ahh, he now remembered why the female servants of his household were practically non-existent, because of his wife…

Pedro could only hide his disappointment and firmed his expression. Steeling himself so as if his wife couldn’t discern his true feelings, “I am very sorry sir. But while I am fine with the male elves, the females have no place on my estate. Nonetheless, I will still thank you for the thoughtful gift,”

His wife seemed pleased with the firm tone he took, and went back into the household to continue caring for their son.

The Boer, now having to deal with angry female slaves tied up by his side left the household while accomplishing nothing.

Once again, the Boer reiterated in the report, ‘I did not have sexual relations with these women’.

‘What is this fantasy story? Bullshit! You just want to keep the female slaves you bought using my money for yourself!’ Jan fumed, hemming and hawing as he figured out a response.

If this story went as it did in those kinds of novels, the slaves would all fall in love with the Boer, and they would live happily ever after…

Wait a minute, elves were matriarchal, so wouldn’t they see the Boer as their property instead of being subservient to him…

That man better checks his back if this story is fake.

Jan continued reading.

Not sure what else to do, the Boer went to the inn. With the small scraps of coins he still had, he could buy porridge for all of him and his harem of elves.

That was all, as the letter ended with a plea for him to send more money.

‘Fok it! I have already invested this much for this venture, this better be worth it!’ Jan decided to send the same funds he sent last time, and decided to see what the Boer would do with it.

Week 3 of the Boer expedition to Portuguese Mozambique.

Dear Commando Jan,

With the funds you sent, I have procured a plot of land and decided to become a plantation owner. This is so I can blend in with the locals. The regulo approved of my purchase and was satisfied with my gift of elf slaves. I and the female slaves have found an understanding, and we are living happily together. From the plot of land I’ve purchased, it would be a good hub of operations for further diplomatic missions to either the officials in Mozambique or the Gaza Empire.

Yours sincerely,

A Portuguese

1. I interviewed some Portuguese youths, and they wrote a newspaper article for me. I have translated it into English for your pleasure.

Jan began flipping through the papers, looking for a suitable hitman to shoot the man so that his frustrations could be relieved. But before doing so, he decided to take a look at the stupid newspaper article.

The Ingenious Gentleman Portuguese Boer of Portuguese Mozambique

Here we are interviewing a Dutch man who firmly believes he is Portuguese even if he is unable to even speak the language. He claims that he is Portuguese even if he hails from South Elfrica, specifically the Natalia Republic. The man has some words to say to his friends from South Elfrica reading this article.

Portuguese Boer: “Hello Commando! Hi, ma! Hi, pa! I’m famous! I am not a Boer, I am Portuguese,”

Interviewer: “Can you tell us why you believe to be Portuguese even though neither of your parents is Portuguese?”

Portuguese Boer: “My skin is white. I can say some Portuguese like olá! I like Portugal!”

Interviewer: “Can you tell us why you like Portugal so much?”

Portuguese Boer: “It is because I can obtain a harem of elves thanks to Portugal! I love you Portugal!”

“No, it’s because of me! You fucker!” Jan yelled. He swore this man was going to become the De Buys of Portuguese Mozambique. Talk about the free burgher dream, this man was living it.

Interviewer: “Could you introduce us to your various wives that you speak of?”

Portuguese Boer: “Uhm… they can’t speak. We can’t communicate. But they show their love by baring their teeth to me. Or pointing a knife at me whenever I tried to approach them. On second thought, I don’t know whether they like me or not. Either way, since they never ran away from my estate, I assume otherwise.”

Interviewer: *Nods sagely. “That’s right folks, and that’s all we have of The Ingenious Gentleman Portuguese Boer of Portuguese Mozambique. The title was not inspired by Don Quixote hah…”

Jan didn’t even know what to say. Can a man be any more shameless about wanting an elf harem? He supposed it was his fault for not setting up the red-light district. But what could he do, no woman would want to serve in such an establishment. He was too successful…

He appointed a bureaucrat to travel to where the Boer went, and to scout out the ‘embassy’ the Portuguese Boer created. They were given two muskets and were expected to shoot the man if what he said was false. He would not tolerate such wastrels eating up his funds as if they were free. Such funds could have been invested in a local Boer enterprise instead of helping a man get laid.

The Boer bureaucrats reached the Portuguese Mozambique settlement by the Gaza Empire and found the plantation that the Portuguese Boer founded. With prior preparations, they were versed in Portuguese, so they asked the man’s neighbours about him. As all accounts confirmed, everyone thought that he was a crazy man thinking that he was Portuguese even if he was not. The man, in true Boer fashion, built the entire plantation by hand with the help of his harem of slaves.

The Boers inquired about the slaves, and the Portuguese plantation owner was all too happy to enlighten them about the female slaves.

“You see, the slaves don’t run because they’re lost. This is a foreign environment for slaves; thus they are rather subservient. And they don’t have a place to run off to. Their homeland is ruled by the Gazas, so if they head back to their Chiefdom and the Gaza Chief recognised them, they would be sent over here again. Some of them run off to form independent communities, but we quickly crush them once they are found,” The landowner explained in Portuguese.

“So, the female elves aren’t fleeing not out of any loyalty? They are just gathering information about their surroundings?”

The landowner nodded.

“The Dutchman is being very careless with how he treats his slaves. I don’t how one man can handle so many slaves by himself, but I’m surprised he hadn’t ended up dead yet.”

“Is that why you call him a gentleman?”

The landowner shook his head.

“We call him a gentleman to laugh at him for his ungentlemanly manner. We can all see that he is a simple farmer. Just like how we call him Portuguese to appease the man, even if he is Dutch.”

The Boers went to the estate. The Portuguese Boer, upon recognising his co-workers waved at them.

“Why are you Portuguese?” The first Boer asked, not bothering to follow the Commando’s orders to shoot the man.

“The Commando told me to blend in. And who else would be able to blend in better than a Portuguese in Portuguese territory?”

“So, the elves? Are they beautiful? At least let me see them,” The other Boer asked.

“Uhmm… they all ran away,”

The Boers all looked at the ‘Portuguese’ plantation owner who had to manage the plantation all by himself.

“You at least had sex with them, right?” A Boer asked with a leery gaze.

“Come on, isn’t it obvious?” The other added on.

“No,” The Portuguese Boer looked towards the ground despondently. He continued, “I was too afraid of getting stabbed by them.”

The two men patted the Portuguese Boer on the back.

“Sure buddy, we believe you. You did not have sexual relations with those women,”

“Yup. Coming from a man who gets to buy female elves, I believe you,”

“But I’m serious.”

“Sure, buddy, sure.”