Chapter 301 Harold: Routine 1
Eight days later, the caravan arrived at the second tribe.
Although the residents here own a nice oasis and maintain exchanges with caravans from the outside world, due to resource shortages, mud and sand houses like those in Aru Village can no longer be seen here. Instead, there are low tents.
There were no greeters, and there were almost no young men in the tribe, because it was daytime and most of the strong members were out hunting:
In the water-scarce desert, people could not, in most cases, obtain sufficient food by domesticating animals, so they kept nothing except necessary beasts of burden and falcons.
However, there are always exceptions. If a tribe is extremely powerful and always returns with a full load after hunting, such as the Tanit, they will also raise crocodiles. Tribal members will feed them the flesh or skin of the prey as feed. These creatures that can survive in the desert can live well on just leftovers.
The guide led the caravan towards a location close to the water source with ease. The pack animals carrying the goods smelled the water earlier than the people did. Some of them were visibly happy, wagging their short tails quickly and even their steps became much lighter.
The noise caused by the large group of people and animals moving forward attracted the elderly and children who were stranded in the village to watch.
In fact, they had noticed these strangers before the caravan entered the village, but no one took any action. Even when these people approached the precious water source on which they depended for survival, no one jumped out to stop them. Everyone stayed in their own tents and watched everything happen, their eyes expectant with a little fear.
Two years ago, in the same situation, they also took up arms to defend their homes, and rushed towards the foreigners who far outnumbered them, only to be captured alive.
But the members of the caravan proved with sincerity that they had no ill intentions. The goods they brought, especially the textbooks, opened the eyes of the residents of this small tribe, so they regarded these city people who came from afar as distinguished guests. However, in the face of absolute power, they could never let down their guard.
"Let's set up the tent quickly after replenishing the water source. It's getting dark soon." Harold looked up at the sky and said.
"Ok!"
The members of the caravan responded one after another and quickened the pace of fetching water.
After skillfully setting up the camp, the merchants unloaded the goods from the backs of the pack animals.
At this time, the desert people who had been watching started to move - a small number of people, mostly the elderly, slowly came out of their tents and gathered towards the water source. Some children also tried to follow, but were pushed back by their elders before they walked out of the tent.
The merchants were used to this and kept fiddling with the goods. The caravan's chief clerk took out his account book, made a note on it, and handed a bag of Mora to an elder of the tribe.
Then he said in the local language while gesturing: "Our leader said this is the cost of buying water. Look at this. We have to fill it up."
As the chief clerk spoke, he patted the water bag hanging from the belly of the beast of burden, making the leather water bag make a "puff puff" sound, and it was obvious that the water inside had run out.
"…Of course, it is our honor to be able to help you, and…thank you very much for that generosity."
The tribal elder was delighted when he received the money bag. The caravans that came here in the past never paid for water. Every time they saw these people setting up camp near the water source, they dared not say anything. But this time, the leader's style of behavior surprised him.
After thanking him, he immediately retreated behind a tree with the money bag. Seeing this, several other elders hurried over and urged him to count the amount of the Mora.
The elder holding the purse had no time to argue with others at this moment. He quickly opened the purse and began to count with his eyes wide open. When he counted to 100,000 Mora, he could no longer contain his joy.
The same was true for the other elders. They couldn't believe that those stingy foreigners actually gave them so much money.
After the surprise, several people gathered around the chief clerk and Harold again, with flattering smiles on their faces, asking, "Do you have any other needs?"
Harold nodded and put forward his request without hesitation: "I need some mercenaries."
He used the local language. At this point, there were only a few desert people who could use the Xumi common language.
Harold taught himself the four main languages popular in the desert. Although he was not very proficient, he had no major problems in communication.
Moreover, the guide he found stood beside him as soon as he opened his mouth, ready to translate for his employer at any time, so he did not worry about his meaning being misunderstood.
Several elders looked at each other and saw some embarrassment on each other's faces.
An elder hesitated and said, "Of course it's no problem, but we can't send too many people."
Another elder who was leaning on a cane continued, "A maximum of twelve people can be sent out."
The bearded elder beside her frowned and wanted to say "eight at most", but when he thought of the other party's generosity just now, he swallowed his words.
Well, the warriors of the hunting group may not always return with a full load, but being employed by these merchants can bring considerable wealth to the tribe.
"Very good." Harold said with a smile, then gave the chief clerk a look, indicating that he should take a piece of paper and write a contract. "I need twelve people to escort our caravan to the next tribe. The reward is 100,000 Mora. Are you willing to accept this commission?"
"Only to the next tribe? And then turn back after reaching the Slavs?" The elders were a little bit unbelieving. They thought Harold wanted the warriors of their tribe to accompany them for the entire journey.
Harold nodded: "Yes."
"...Will a war break out?" the elders asked hesitantly.
"The probability is very small, but there is no guarantee that it will happen." Harold answered truthfully.
The elders were relieved when they heard this. Harold's words confirmed to them that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
They thought that Harold had known from somewhere that someone would ambush the caravan on this road, so he hired thugs along the way.
But if that's the case, the reward of 100,000 Mora is not enough.