Chapter 105
Botswana Chief Malik was facing the chiefs of friendly allied tribes.
Before Nador's active invasion, they often acted together, exchanging goods with each other and going to markets together to trade with Nador merchants.
Because they often joined hands and acted together, they used to greet each other like friends at gatherings like this, but.
'Everyone lacks peace of mind because of those Nador bastards.'
Also, looking around, he noticed some chiefs of tribes he had been close with before were missing.
They must have been plundered and enslaved by the Nador bastards.
After a rather long silence, one chief asked in an irritated voice as if grumbling:
"Why on earth did you call us? Surely you didn't call us just to say we should all join hands and fight those evil Nador bastards?"
Everyone here would agree with the argument that friendly tribes should unite their strength to drive out the Nador bastards.
That's why last time, 12 tribes including the Botswana tribe joined forces to fight against Nador's 7,000 strong army.
Although the tribal alliance outnumbered them, they suffered a miserable defeat in the face of matchlock guns and the durability of iron armor.
Malik, and everyone here, haven't forgotten that fact.
'There's no chance of winning if we fight those monster-like bastards head-on.'
"Frankly speaking, there's no chance of winning if we fight those devils head-on. So please don't make the foolish suggestion that we should join forces and fight again."
With those words, the atmosphere of the gathering became even more solemn.
Since everyone agreed and formed an alliance to fight, no one could be singled out for blame.
But defeat is defeat, and the hundreds of warriors massacred in front of the volley fire of matchlock guns won't come back.
Among them, only Malik stood with his chest out, showing an attitude overflowing with confidence.
"Before I bring up what I want to say, let me show you this first."
Malik opened the wooden chest he had brought in.
The chiefs who saw it were shocked.
"Isn't that the gun those devils use?"
"Where on earth did you get this? Even Nador merchants said they wouldn't sell this."
"No matter how much gold we offered, they wouldn't sell it..."
No matter how crazy for money Nador merchants are, they all believe in the Mahrbad religion.
Although they trade with infidels, they wouldn't sell matchlock guns, Nador's core strategic weapon, to indigenous tribes of western Ifriqiya who are hostile forces and heretics.
Malik boasted holding the matchlock gun in his own hands.
"A chief belonging to the Kingdom of Granada, that is, a very large tribe, has proposed to sell these to us. They said they'd sell as many as we wanted."
Everyone was dumbfounded.
It's really grateful that they're selling those precious and powerful weapons, but why on earth are they selling matchlock guns to us?
Chiefs who thought there must be a reason for free things couldn't help but be wary.
"It's unbelievable. Why on earth are they saying they'll sell us these powerful weapons?"
"From what I heard, the Kingdom of Granada also fought fierce wars with those evil bastards until decades ago."
Honestly, Malik didn't have a good sense of what kind of guys the Kingdom of Granada were.
But if they had the same enemy, they could be trusted.
'They must want us to keep fighting Nador so they can sleep comfortably too.'
"So it seems those guys want to prevent Nador from growing and want us to keep fighting Nador."
Everyone felt dirty for being used.
Even if they were being used, they had no choice but to accept this proposal.
To survive, to protect their ordinary daily lives with their families, they needed matchlock guns and gunpowder.
"To think they even plan to take money from us, they're truly evil beyond measure."
It didn't seem like something humans would do, approaching them with the intention of taking money even from those shedding blood on their behalf.
"They're selling matchlock guns and gunpowder very generously. We should be able to buy as much as we need."
Malik looked over everyone and said:
"Honestly, what's the reason those Nador bastards are strong? Isn't it because of those damn matchlock guns? Other than that, they're weaker compared to us."
Even in Nador, most soldiers are black slaves, worthless commoners and poor people, and serfs.
People who have never held a spear in their lives can't be good quality as soldiers.
On the other hand, these people, including the Botswana tribe hunt beasts like lions, zebras, and buffaloes as part of daily life.
The quality as soldiers is naturally much higher for those specialized in slaughtering beasts.
"So let's form an alliance army once again and fight those evil bastards. And if we win... how about continuing this alliance?"
Indigenous tribes may lack knowledge, but their heads aren't completely empty.
When an army is formed, naturally a leader who acts as commander will be established, and he will practically act as the chief of chiefs.
Among those here, Botswana Chief Malik is the most likely candidate.
As chiefs of individual tribes, they don't like someone standing above their heads, but they can't lose their lives and all their tribespeople by coveting the chief's position.
Everyone agreed to those words in unison.
"I agree."
"The one selling these matchlock guns is in our Botswana tribe. He receives precious things like gold, lion skins, and ivory, so prepare as much as possible."
Malik said that and grinned.
The more matchlock guns they buy, the more unconditional profit he'll make, and...
'If this alliance succeeds, I can become king.'
It might take 5 years, 10 years, but chief of chiefs.
Just thinking about it was ecstatic.
**
Honestly, Chris, Chloe and I found it difficult being in this area isolated from civilization.
The food was unfamiliar, and since they don't farm, we had to chew on these indigenous tribes' food or meat instead of bread.
However, most of the sailors seemed relatively less dissatisfied because they could eat 'meat' every day.
Or maybe it's because their bonuses increase sharply the longer we stay here.
"Anyway, thank you all for enduring well."
By the way, it's been ten days now past the promised week, why isn't the Botswana chief coming?
Surely nothing happened?
If there's a problem, we'll have to find another tribe and sail south along the coastline.
No, we'll have to return to Tuscany via the Kingdom of Granada due to food issues.
While I was thinking about future countermeasures, the Botswana chief approached where I was, bringing other chiefs in tow.
"Sorry for being late. Instead, these guys will buy thousands of matchlock guns combined, so please understand."
Matchlock guns are surprisingly liquid assets.
Because they're difficult to make, and matchlock guns in this era weren't made in standardized factories, so they 'break down' very frequently.
With slight exaggeration, demand exceeds supply in the Albania continent because wars never cease.
So if they didn't sell here, I was thinking of passing them on as military supplies to another division after some time.
'Are all of these going to sell?'
"How much do they all say they'll buy?"
"3,000 guns in total. They say they'll buy more later if they test the effects and find them good."
3,000 guns, converted to gold, is 60kg.
60 kg of gold may not seem like much, but converted to gold coins it's over 15,000 coins.
The cost of 3,000 guns with bullets and gunpowder is about 5,000 gold coins, so the profit made this time is 10,000 gold coins.
'If we sell the lion skins and ivory that will be given as part of the payment to nobles, will the profit margin increase even more?'
Considering this is still the early stages of trade when the market is small...
If we happen to discover a new continent here later, couldn't great merchants just crush it?
"I'll sell them all. And as promised, I'll return 1.2kg of gold."
"That's not necessary. Thanks to you, it seems I might be able to become something like a king."
"Are you planning to wage war?"
The Botswana chief grinned at me.
"If we succeed in driving out those Nador bastards, I'll have to draw more people under me. If they say they won't come under me..."
A common misconception we have about black trade is.
That Europeans unilaterally exploited black people.
But if you look at the reality, it's an established theory that until the early Age of Exploration, trade was black tribal chiefs conquering other tribes with matchlock guns and selling slaves...
I wonder if it'll be like that here too.
"I hope it goes well for you, so I can do business on a large scale too."
After finishing the deal, I returned home immediately.
**
On the way home, I chose a surname containing my future path and determination.
Well, actually I borrowed the surname of a certain family...
But it aligns with the direction I should aim for now.
"Baron Medici is good, but Baron Rothschild isn't bad either."