Year 11 of the SuaChie Calendar, Fourth Month.
Dawn City, Stone Manor.
Zasaba watched me, and I glimpsed a shadow of satisfaction—almost a smile, something exceedingly rare for him—as he noted my impatience. It was a waiting game he mastered perfectly.
"Young Chuta," Zasaba began, resuming his formal address, "the details of the preliminary agreement with Castile and Aragon, negotiated by Chewa, confirm their short-term focus. They believe the high price we would pay for their basic technologies grants them a considerable advantage. In reality, the deal falls far short of the exclusivity terms you instructed us to demand, which is excellent."
I nodded, my mind already processing the information. That the Castilians believed they held the upper hand meant they could not see the trap.
"The technologies they offer are, primarily, metallurgical standardization," Zasaba continued, listing: "Furnaces, techniques for minting and casting metals like bronze and iron, notably excluding steel. They also offer basic knowledge in mathematics, science, history, and religion. And rudimentary knowledge of timber, but, and this is crucial, with no naval application."
I paused at the last point, but Zasaba gave me no time to ask.
"The most important element, and the one that demands our greatest caution, is the shipment of varied seeds and saplings, and a large quantity of animals."
Upon hearing the word 'animals,' a wave of contemporary thought struck me. The balance of advantages and disadvantages immediately tipped.
Advantages: European livestock, poultry, and crops would transform our agriculture and animal husbandry. There would be a massive increase in farming output, an invaluable aid in war (horses), and a necessary dietary variety for the expanding population, helping to overcome the nutritional deficiencies we still suffered on a large scale.
Disadvantages: The biological risk. Integrating these new animals into the original biosystems of the Great Quyca would change the ecological balance forever, but that was an inevitable lesser evil. What truly chilled my blood was the most critical factor, the one history had screamed at me: the sheer volume of diseases these animals would carry. Zoonosis, smallpox, measles. We were opening the gates to a demographic catastrophe, though one necessary for the future immunity and long-term survival of my people.
"Are the animals and seeds being held under strict quarantine on the Floating Isles?" I asked, my voice tenser than I had intended.
"Yes, Young Chuta. Following your order from two years ago, the veterinarians and healers are supervising the first consignment. But the scale of the future shipment will be immense... Although, per your previous commands, we will direct part of the cargo to the eastern part of North Quyca, to the new settlements."
While I nodded, assimilating the calculated risk, I returned to the other anomaly Zasaba had mentioned: knowledge of timber, but not for naval use.
"Zasaba, explain their logic," I began the debate. "They know full well that our fleet, while technologically inferior to their Atlantic vessels, is superior in capacity and quantity in these waters. Why specifically deny us naval technology? It is no state secret that they only need to cross an ocean to demonstrate our inferiority in that field."
Zasaba, with his customary shrug, indicated his lack of knowledge. "The agent suggested that perhaps they are keeping better ships a secret, or there is some element in their naval construction that we have overlooked."
What could we have overlooked?
I had spent years designing the Tequendama and Wayamu vessels based on the models I knew from my previous life, utilizing different features from each ship type which, combined with my modern knowledge of hydrodynamics, made them robust. What did they possess that we did not?
Just as the answer—an obvious and devastating truth—erupted in my mind, a hurried knock sounded at the office door.
"Enter!" I called out, recognizing the urgency in the sound.
One of my direct assistants, Tuaquya, who oversaw port logistics, burst in. He was exhausted, his chest heaving from the effort, his tunic drenched in sweat.
"Young Chuta, forgive the intrusion. One of the ships... one of the Kingdom's vessels. Near the Taíno chiefdoms, en route to fetch copper."
"Speak slowly, Tuaquya," I commanded. Zasaba had risen to his feet, his neutrality crumbling before the assistant's alarm.
"The vessel suffered a serious breakdown," he continued after a breath. "It was sinking. The accompanying crew and the Navy escort acted swiftly. They managed to save almost the entire crew, but we had to tow the vessel back to port. When it was recovered in the nearest port... a section of the hull had rotted away. It was not an accident. It was... decay."
I did not need the confirmation. The realization that had just struck me was the truth: naval rot, the great secret of the European fleet's survival. We had copied the design, the sail, and the keel, but not the preservation.
Timber, in the ocean's saline environment, rots or becomes infested with marine borers. The simple solution—mere treatment of the wood with oil and pitch, or the copper sheathing of the hull that Europeans did not yet use massively, as well as proper drying—was the key knowledge missing from our naval doctrine. They had surely denied us this because they intended to use this advantage of their vessels against ours in the long term.
My first concern, however, was human.
"Tuaquya, were there any losses of human life?" I asked directly.
The assistant, visibly surprised by the importance I placed on the crew over the material loss of the ship, quickly composed himself. "Only two men, Young Chuta. They drowned while attempting to repair the hull underwater. Two others were injured but are stable."
"Only two," I repeated. The figure was low, but every life was invaluable. Quickly, my planner's brain activated for social policy.
"Order the local governance immediately to issue the proper compensation order for the families. Basic benefits: guaranteed work for the deceased's spouses, and guaranteed education and employment for the children. The Kingdom does not abandon those who serve it."
Tuaquya nodded, his exhausted face illuminated by approval. "It will be done immediately, Young Chuta."
"And the vessel? What model was it and when was it built?"
"It was a medium vessel, a Wayamú, Young Chuta. Of the first generation, built approximately in Year 4 of the SuaChie Calendar. Now, if you will allow me, I must—"
"You are dismissed, Tuaquya. Good work; commend the sailors for saving the majority of the crew."
Tuaquya departed as quickly as he had entered. I turned to Zasaba, who needed no explanation; the decay of the hull was obvious even to the most landlocked Shadow.
"Zasaba, is this the first case at sea?"
"Yes, Young Chuta... But it is reasonable to assume it has been occurring, or will soon begin to occur, with our boats used in river commerce, as these are the first boats and ships built... Although I do not understand why such cases have not yet been reported."
"It is due to the salinity of the seawater," I commented gravely. "However, this problem will also affect these boats and skiffs, so we must be cautious."
The problem was systemic and threatened to cripple the burgeoning logistics I had just consolidated. We could not afford to lose ships during a period of expansion.
"Order the following, Zasaba. Issue a Silver Level Alert to all ports of the FRIRS, new territories, and the Muisca Kingdom:
Exhaustive Review of every naval and commercial vessel built before Year 8 of the SuaChie Calendar. Priority to the first-generation Wayayú. New ships must immediately replace the old ones in their duties, relegating the older vessels to lower-risk coastal or river routes. We will halt partial naval constructions throughout the Kingdom. Only final assembly will be permitted. Convene the Kingdom's chief researchers immediately. We urgently need to integrate new wood drying and treatment technology into every workshop and shipyard. What they denied us; we must find through the knowledge of the gods."
Zasaba, for the first time, not only nodded but offered a slight bow. "The order is clear, Young Chuta... This will slow our production for a few months but save the fleet in the next decade."
"A few months' delay for decades of security. It is a good trade, Zasaba," I commented matter-of-factly. "The problem is identified. Now, we solve it. If the Castilians believe the shipworm will be their ally, they are mistaken."
I continued watching Zasaba, awaiting the final fragment of information.
"Young Chuta," Zasaba said, "there is something else. The agent in Seville, before the messenger departed, sent a last-minute communication. I did not include it in the report because it lacked confirmation, and he himself cataloged it as a 'tavern speculation.'"
He paused, this time with the faint glint in his eyes that told me this 'speculation' was what truly intrigued him.
"He mentioned a possible intervention by the Vatican in the maritime dispute between Castile and Portugal. He said it was something about 'demarcating Christendom.' He thought it was merely an internal religious matter and did not believe it relevant to the Great Quyca."
The mention of the Vatican and the dispute over the 'lines' struck me with the force of a dropped anchor.
The Treaty of Tordesillas.
In my previous life, that treaty had divided the world between the two Iberian powers, consulting no one else. Now, with the Suaza Kingdom solidly established on the other side of the ocean, the equation had completely changed.
This is not merely a European dispute; it concerns us directly.
The presence of the Suaza Kingdom would not only affect Europe's internal tensions but would make the Great Quyca the new focal point of global politics and religion. The Vatican sought not merely to divide the sea; it sought to claim the souls and territories of our continent for the kingdoms that professed the Christian faith.
There was no time for contemplation, only for preemptive action.
"Zasaba, forget the speculation; it is a papal directive. We must act as if the line of demarcation has already been drawn. I require general orders implemented immediately."
I rose from my seat, my energy flowing like an electrical current. Zasaba was already pulling out his ledger to record my commands.
"First," I began to instruct. "Exploratory and Defensive Deployment... Immediately implement a naval sweep of all areas near our maritime borders. This must include the new vessels and those that pass the naval rot inspection."
"Any vessel, of any nation, sighted near the Great Quyca or en route to it, shall be detained," I continued after weighing the options. "I repeat, detention, not destruction. They shall be held in the nearest ports, and the detained individuals must be treated with absolute humanity. They will be relocated in groups until their release, ensuring they cannot map our defenses or trade routes, and that they leave convinced of our hospitality and strength."
Zasaba nodded with a renewed formality. "The sailors of Quycan Europe will return with stories of our power and our kindness, Young Chuta."
"Precisely," I continued, ordering the new directives. "Second... Expansion of Commercial Ties in Europe. Order Chewa to hasten trade with other European powers: France and England. Increase the volume of resources obtained and establish amicable ties with all. The goal is non-exclusivity and discord among them. And this is a direct order for you: dispatch agents of the Shadows to Paris and London immediately."
We needed eyes and ears on all fronts.
"Third, and crucial. Muslim Alliance... Initiate immediate negotiations with the Muslim kingdoms and sultanates of northern Guanza Quyca. This will be supported by the trade and favorable relations we have already fostered with the Songhai Empire. Europe is united by the Christian faith; we must find allies who share a common enemy in the Mediterranean."
Zasaba raised an objection, the first of the morning. "Young Chuta, points one and two can be implemented immediately. But the last is more difficult due to the language barrier. We have had contact with French and English merchants and can use translators. But interaction with North Guanza Quyca has been sparse."
"I understand. A deployment without preparation is unnecessary. We still have time," I commented, understanding the situation. "Begin recruiting and training translators in the Arabic and Berber dialects. This can wait a couple of months, but it must be our highest intelligence priority."
Zasaba put away his parchments. "Nothing further to report, Young Chuta." He offered a bow, a gesture that still bothered me, and withdrew.
I was left alone, the Caribbean sun warming my neck. I pondered alternatives to avoid confronting a unified Europe, a remote but catastrophic possibility for the Suaza Kingdom.
A persistent idea crossed my mind: to allow free navigation for Europeans to certain specific ports on the Great Quyca's coasts.
Strengths: Non-dependence on Suaza vessels for transatlantic trade. European ships could fulfill that role privately, freeing my own fleet for war, protection, and exploration. Furthermore, this would reduce the military territory we need to cover.
Weaknesses: Control. It would be much more limited against the infiltration of people and diseases—my primary fear. This could endanger the cities. Moreover, we would expose our weaknesses to potential enemies. Allowing this opening without proper military and biological preparation was extremely perilous. Putting the danger so close was an enormous risk. For now, it was better to maintain the de facto blockade and reevaluate it after the naval crisis.
My other line of thought centered on geography: to bolster the kingdoms of northern Guanza Quyca. To turn them into such a persistent danger to the Europeans that their attention would be permanently diverted from the Great Quyca.
This had to be done indirectly: selling them advanced weapon technology through the Songhai Empire, financing key defensive structures, or even sending discreet advisors. The plans swirled, all indirect and bearing the mark of the Shadows.
One Month Later,Year 11 of the SuaChie Calendar, Fifth Month.
I was in the courtyard of the Stone Manor. I had turned physical training into a natural necessity for myself.
Since childhood, I had promoted new diets and routines for the population. This had not only improved the physical capacity of the youth and strengthened the adults but had resulted in a notable increase in the average height of the new generation. We were forging stronger soldiers and workers.
I did a quick jog around the courtyard circuit, followed by exercises in physical effort and agility. My body, though slender, felt like a loaded spring. Then, a Suaza martial arts instructor, adopting fighting styles from the best-known peoples, began to train with me with practice weapons.
The performance of both was exceptional, but I made the difference with my long-trained agility; the instructor could only compensate with his difference in weight and muscle mass.
Gasping, I stopped for a rest. Suddenly, I felt a soft, furry pressure against my leg. I looked down.
What I saw made me show an ironic grimace, a mix of exasperation and astonishment.
It was a cub, and not just any cub. A small lion that Turey had named Iron Fangs.
It had recently arrived from Guanza Quyca with its parents and a group of exotic animals that had been mistreated by trans-Saharan traders before being rescued by our own merchants.
I recalled the frustration of my researchers and animal handlers. At first, they could not understand how to curb the relentless frenzy or aggression of those wild animals. But then, Turey had simply approached them naturally and without a hint of fear, only wonder in her eyes, and a touch of sorrow at seeing the animals' physical condition. The lions, leopards, and hyenas had immediately calmed, acting like small pups. It was a gift Turey possessed, an inexplicable connection to the natural world that defied logic.
Just as I was thinking about the enigma of Turey, she approached the courtyard. Her usual peaceful expression was slightly tinged with concern.
"Iron Fangs!" she called softly across the yard, her tone of relief evident. The cub lifted its head from my leg, emitting a childish growl.
Turey smiled upon seeing me and stepped forward to pick up the lion.
"The world is about to be divided by faith and resources," I thought, stroking the head of the future predator.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
I'm so sorry for the delay in this chapter, but I've been thinking long and hard about what the kingdom's next steps would be. I was hesitant about how to proceed, especially after researching some treaties, the behavior of European kingdoms, and the Church.
So I adopted a plan that I myself would implement if I were in their situation. Obviously, it's not a perfect plan, but that's also what's interesting.
By the way, we'll soon see the perspectives of Europeans, Chewa, and the shadow in Spain.
UFD: The Vatican intervened in the process that led to the Treaty of Tordesillas through Pope Alexander VI (of Spanish origin, from the Borgia family), who acted as arbitrator in the territorial disputes between Spain (Crown of Castile) and Portugal. This intervention materialized in the so-called Alexandrian Bulls of 1493, issued after Christopher Columbus's first voyage.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future. (Chapter 87)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 33) (INTERMITTENT)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 12) (INTERMITTENT)
You can find them on my profile.]