Link Island, Year 10 of the SuaChie Calendar, Twelfth Month.
Chewa leaned back in his carved wooden seat, the letter from Chuta's assistant still in his hands, its words echoing in his mind like waves against the shore.
The office on Link Island was a sanctuary of order amidst the town's growing chaos: maps were spread across the walls, scrolls piled upon the table, and the aroma of fresh ink mingled with the sea salt air that seeped through the open window. The setting sun cast long shadows across the stone floor, and Chewa felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, a mix of excitement and reverence for the Young Chuta's vision.
The letter detailed secret plans to influence European territories, a subtle control Chewa was only beginning to grasp.
How to integrate this into the trade strategies?
At first, his ideas were simple: export tropical fruits that could withstand the journey, such as dried guavas and mangoes, or those that could be cultivated in Guanza Quyca. But that option would take years; the trees planted there were barely two years old, and though they promised future abundance, for now they were a distant dream.
He considered sending potatoes and sweet potatoes, a gesture that initially struck him as a grave error.
"Young Chuta," he had said in their last meeting, with the respectful tone of a loyal counselor, "to give away such crops with instructions for their production... is that not surrendering our advantage?"
Chuta, with that serene gaze that seemed to see beyond the horizon, had replied: "Chewa, it is to reduce the hunger on their continent. Generosity sows loyalty, not merely harvests."
Chewa still did not fully comprehend why they should worry about the hunger of strangers, but he trusted that time would reveal the impact. Moreover, considering Chuta's forward-thinking mind, he surely saw something Chewa did not yet understand. The positive aspect was that only those two foodstuffs had been shared; the rest—corn, spirits, and artisanal goods—remained for commerce.
His thoughts drifted to the kingdom's spirits, fermented with corn and fruit, and the distilled alcohol of varying proofs, which had delighted the European expedition's sailors in Dawn City. He remembered the sailors' faces, their eyes lit up upon tasting the chicha, a brew that warmed the body and lifted the spirit.
"That could be key," he murmured to himself, imagining barrels crossing the ocean to fill Europe's taverns.
Next, the corn itself: versatile grains, and derivatives like flours and oils that could revolutionize their kitchens. And the most valuable elements: artisanal goods, gold and emerald jewelry carved with Muisca motifs, fine textiles bearing the kingdom's characteristics, and even paper, that invention Chuta had perfected, which, he claimed, would be coveted on a continent hungry for written knowledge.
Chewa saw the advantage: the Suaza controlled routes and resources Europe could only dream of. A plan began to take shape in his head, a tapestry of exchanges that would not only enrich the kingdom but also weave subtle dependencies, aligning with the hidden objectives of the letter.
The following day.
The rising sun bathed Link Island in a rosy light, filtering through the linen curtains of Chewa's house. He awoke, his body still heavy with sleep, but his mind clear, the scent of damp earth and sea air entering through the open window.
The town was already stirring: the distant hammering of builders erecting homes, the bustle of vendors in the makeshift market, the rattling of carts transporting goods. Chewa heard the laughter of children—some local, others having slipped in from nearby Portuguese islands—playing among the stacks of wood. He felt a warmth in his chest; this place, raised in months with the mortar and iron of the kingdom, was a testament to his vision.
In the stone kitchen, Chewa prepared his breakfast: tropical fruits the last Suaza ship had brought—juicy guavas and ripe mangoes—mixed with local bread purchased from a Portuguese merchant who was thriving in the town. The contrast of flavors, sweet and earthy, reminded him of the fusion of worlds he was forging.
As he chewed, he heard voices outside: Sogeking and Tequa, the first officer of the King of Shooters, Sogeking's ship, who had been delegated by his captain to manage the island. He invited them to join him, and soon the three sat around the table, steaming plates before them.
"This town grows quickly," Sogeking said, breaking a loaf of bread with his calloused hands, his voice hoarse from years at sea. "But what about defenses? We cannot trust these Europeans to remain passive."
Tequa nodded. "The towers we built will suffice for now, with archers and cannons. But I remember Young Chuta, on a visit to the academy, spoke of bastions: structures with multiple cannons to repel invaders from all angles."
Tequa was a young man with sharp eyes and an impeccable uniform, a graduate of the Simte Academy. He had followed Sogeking since his first coastal reconnaissance voyage, and also during the testing of new ships built by the kingdom's first shipyards many years prior.
Chewa leaned forward, intrigued. "I like that idea. I will request details from Chuta in my next report. It could fortify the harbor without alarming our visitors."
The conversation flowed, but Chewa noted Tequa's intellect, his way of analyzing problems like a navigator reads the stars. "Tequa, would you consider staying on as the island's governor? Your knowledge would be invaluable."
Tequa shook his head, smiling. "Thank you, Lord Chewa, but my place is on the sea. Land tires me; I need the rocking of the waves."
Sogeking let out a hearty laugh, pounding the table. "Well said! Tequa and I have been blessed by the Sea God. If we spend too long on land, he will punish us with weak legs and dreams of storms."
Chewa laughed, his sound joining theirs.
"Blessed? Rather, cursed to wander eternally."
Tequa added: "Or perhaps the god envies our freedom."
Sogeking countered: "Envy us? He gave us the waves so we wouldn't be bored by types like Chewa, tied to their maps and sheets of paper!"
The jokes flew, the atmosphere as cheerful as a banquet in Dawn City, a respite amidst the uncertainty.
The moment was broken by a knock at the door. Chewa, still chuckling, called out: "Enter!"
His assistant rushed in, breathless, his face serious. "Lord Chewa, the Lightning Division ship has arrived with important news: two small fleets, two ships each, will arrive in a few hours."
Chewa felt his stomach lurch, the joy evaporating like mist in the sun. The European fleets.
"Prepare everything," he ordered, his voice firm. "This is what we were waiting for."
As the assistant left, Chewa looked at Sogeking and Tequa, their minds already on alert. The island, their bridge to the future, was about to receive visitors who would test their plans. And deep down, Chewa was thankful once again for Chuta, whose foresight guided them like a star in the night.
Two hours later, at the town's harbor.
The midday sun shone upon the port of Link Island, its rays reflecting in the turquoise waters and in the gold and silver sails of the Tequendama II vessels escorting the European ships.
Chewa, standing on the dock, felt the salty air cling to his white tunic, decorated with the symbol of the moon over the sun. His gaze swept the horizon, where other Tequendama ships patrolled in circles, ready for any eventuality. He knew such a display was extreme, but thousands of miles from the Suaza Kingdom, he felt the weight of responsibility for the lives of his people.
The sailors, now serving as guards, were aligned on the dock, their faces tense but confident, backed by the defense towers and the cannons protecting the island. The town's commotion—hammers striking wood, vendors shouting in the market, children laughing—contrasted with the tense calm of the pier as the European ships docked.
Chewa recognized the flags of the Kingdoms of Spain and Portugal, thanks to information purchased from local merchants. Two Spanish and two Portuguese ships, guided precisely by the harbor workers, lined up at the pier.
From the Spanish ships descended familiar figures: Apqua, Chuta's envoy, led the group, followed by Christopher Columbus, Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba, Luis de Santángel, and Hernando de Talavera.
From the Portuguese ships stepped Juan Cortizos, the merchant, and Friar Juan Álvares. Apqua stepped forward, bowing formally.
"Lord Chewa, it is an honor to see you again," he said in the kingdom's language, before turning to introduce the Spaniards. "I present to you Don Christopher Columbus, Don Gonzalo Fernández, Don Luis de Santángel, and Don Hernando de Talavera."
Columbus, in a blue doublet and a plain cloak, inclined his head.
"Lord Chewa, thank you for receiving us."
The others imitated him, their voices resonating in Spanish. Chewa replied fluently, surprising them all.
Then, Apqua introduced the Portuguese, in Spanish. "Juan Cortizos and Friar Juan Álvares, envoys from the Kingdom of Portugal."
Cortizos, in an embroidered cloak, and Álvares, in his dark habit, greeted him in Portuguese. To the surprise even of Apqua, Chewa responded in clear Portuguese, learned in just over a month of trade with local merchants.
"Welcome to Link Island. I hope this marks the beginning of a friendship."
Without losing time, Chewa led them on a tour of the town.
The packed-earth streets, with some sections paved with stone, lined with houses of wood and mortar, pulsed with activity: artisans carving, merchants offering exotic fruits, workers transporting beams.
The Europeans, their faces etched with astonishment, observed the organization: drainage canals, structured markets, and a port whose stability surpassed those of Europe.
Columbus whispered to Luis: "It is as I said, built in months."
Cortizos, more practical, evaluated the exposed goods, his eyes gleaming at the emerald, gold, and other metal jewelry. Chewa, noting every reaction, knew that the speed and order of Link Island were a declaration of power.
One week later.
Chewa presided over a meeting in the newly constructed event hall, a stone structure with high ceilings and tapestries bearing Muisca motifs taken from the kingdom's ship cabins.
The central table was covered with fruits, corn breads, and pitchers of chicha and other spirits, whose sweet aroma filled the air. The European envoys, seated in carved chairs, discussed with a mixture of enthusiasm and rivalry.
Chewa, in the center, listened attentively, his white tunic contrasting with the Europeans' ostentatious cloaks. He had held separate meetings with both kingdoms, proposing a joint alliance, but the tensions were evident.
Cortizos, representing Portugal, spoke first, his tone calculating.
"At first, we thought the Suaza Kingdom was an African realm rich in gold, or as you call it, Guanza Quyca," he began to explain. "But upon learning of your routes to the west, we realized our error. Which is not an error as such, but an opportunity. We desire a trade center here, uniting our routes south of Africa with your goods from the west. But…" He paused, looking at the Spaniards. "We would prefer that only our two kingdoms participate."
Cortizos's message was clear: exclude Spain from the negotiations. Columbus frowned, and Luis, beside him, pressed his lips together. Gonzalo, in his ceremonial armor, intervened sharply.
"It was we who discovered the Suaza, financed by the Spanish Crown. Our alliance gives us preference. We control the Strait of Gibraltar and Mediterranean trade, which makes us their ideal partners."
Chewa, with a calmness that masked his cunning, observed the exchange.
The Portuguese saw the Suaza as a commercial ally to counterbalance Spain, while the Spaniards claimed a predestined connection, reinforced by their initial hospitality towards the kingdom's envoys. But Chewa saw further.
Suaza goods—corn, spirits, jewelry, paper—and certain other future elements, were already generating fervor in Palos and the Cape Verde Islands, and soon other European kingdoms would join the game.
The disunity between Spain and Portugal was an advantage.
In his mind, following Chuta's example, he began to weave ideas: to bribe European nobles, finance local merchants, create economic dependencies that would position Suaza as the axis of a new commercial order.
Cortizos, with a sly smile, added: "In the future, Portugal and Suaza could divide trade zones to protect our interests."
His tone suggested a treaty that would exclude Spain.
Luis, with a conciliatory gesture, replied: "Or we could work together, uniting our forces for mutual benefit."
Chewa nodded, but his mind was elsewhere.
Chuta's assistant's letter spoke of covert influence, and now he saw how to exploit the European rivalries. While the envoys argued, their voices rising in moments of tension, Chewa imagined a future where the Suaza did not merely trade, but shaped Europe's destiny from the shadows.
"Gentlemen," he said, raising a hand to quell the commotion, "Link Island will be a bridge for all. Bring your proposals, and the Suaza Kingdom will consider them with fairness."
The Europeans looked at him, some with respect, others with caution. Chewa, with the aroma of chicha in the air and the murmur of the town in the background.
"But we require your kingdoms to be true to their word and to see us as allies," he added with a firm tone, as they all watched him attentively.
The meeting continued, but no agreement seemed to be reached. However, Chewa knew that these meetings were only to start the conversations. He understood that only after a couple of months, some concessions, and signed documents, could they consider a real alliance a certainty.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Chewa becomes the center of this meeting. But I want to make it clear that any treaty will take a while to see the light of day. Furthermore, in some ways, this meeting is already changing some of the kingdoms' plans, specifically those of Spain and Portugal.
The former will attempt to continue exploring the west, but with less emphasis. And the latter will no longer seek routes to the west (Brazil).
Unnecessary Fact of the Day: In classical antiquity, the Rock of Gibraltar and Mount Musa marked the limits of the known world, and Greek legend attributed their creation or separation to the hero Hercules. / [Strait of Gibraltar]
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future. (Chapter 83)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis. (Chapter 29)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 9) (PAUSED)
You can find them on my profile.]