Chapter 20: Venture Capital in the Scrublands

The exchange was executed right under the brutal, unforgiving midday sun. 

There was no ceremony, only the tense, hyper-focused energy of a massive transaction. The Uukwaluudhi caravan unloaded half of their heavy wooden sleds. Shaningwa and Mukoya stood like statues in the dry heat, their eyes scanning the perimeter as chunks of raw iron ore, heavy ivory tusks, and thick leather pouches filled with premium ostrich eggshell beads were piled together haphazardly onto 5 cow-drawn carts that were also part of the tribute and are now being given to Amutenya's group.

It was a king’s ransom. A staggering amount of wealth surrendered in the middle of a lawless wasteland. 

Amutenya stepped back, holstering his salesman persona and letting his Chief of Production take over. 

Meme Kauna and Ndapandula walked among the Uukwaluudhi women, their voices low, patient, and deeply authoritative. They didn't just tell them the formula; they demonstrated it in real-time. They showed them exactly how to render the animal fat over a low, controlled fire, precisely how much dried berry powder was needed to seal the pemmican without making it bitter, and most importantly, how to heavily coat the raw meat in white mopane ash to instantly lock out the blowflies and draw out the surface moisture. 

Hiyalwa watched the process with hawkish intensity. He didn't blink. Amutenya could practically see the noble memorizing every single step, ensuring his family would have absolute, unquestioned control over this technique once they returned to the Uukwaluudhi court. He even had a suspicion that every one in this group who learned the formula today will either be taken in by Hiyalwa’s family or killed off to ensure these formulas never fall in the hands of other nobles.


Once the caravan’s massive supply of meat was heavily dusted in white ash, the atmosphere shifted entirely. The oppressive, ticking clock of the Ondonga monopoly had lifted from the Uukwaluudhi men. They breathed easier. They prepared to march back west, their sleds significantly lighter, their meat completely safe from rot, and their political pride intact. 

Before giving the order to march, Hiyalwa approached Amutenya. 

The noble reached up and unclasped a heavy, intricately carved ivory pendant from his neck. It was etched with the sharp, geometric markings of his specific royal house, a symbol of power that carried weight far beyond the scrublands. He pressed the heavy ivory into Amutenya’s hand. 

"If my border guards see this, they will lower their spears," Hiyalwa said, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial register. "You will have safe passage through Uukwaluudhi lands, Amutenya yaShikongo."

Amutenya looked down at the heavy ivory token, rubbing his thumb over the carvings. He knew exactly what this was. It wasn't just a passport or a token of gratitude. It was the establishment of a mutual-beneficiary relationship. 

"I appreciate the gesture, Hiyalwa," Amutenya replied smoothly, slipping the pendant into his leather pouch. 


"It is not a gesture. It is my vow," Hiyalwa corrected, his sharp eyes locking onto Amutenya’s with burning intensity. "A man who can make salt obsolete with burning wood is a man who sees the world differently. I am returning to my kingdom a very powerful man because of you." 

Hiyalwa took a half-step closer, ensuring his own men could not hear the rest of their exchange. 

"The drought is long, and these kingdoms are fragile," the noble whispered. "If you look at this dry earth and see any more of these... formulas... Think of me before take them to the Ondonga or to the Uukwambi. As long as it is of use to me, i will not offer you a terrible price."

Amutenya’s smile finally reached his eyes. "You will be my first stop."

With a final nod of profound, mutual respect, Hiyalwa turned on his heel. He barked an order to his men, and the Uukwaluudhi caravan began their long march home, leaving Amutenya’s small hunting party standing alone in the brush over a mountain of royal wealth. 

Shivute stepped up beside Amutenya, his breath hitching as he stared at the staggering pile of iron, ivory, and beads. He had never seen this much wealth in his entire life. 

"We are rich," Shivute whispered, his hands trembling slightly. "Amutenya... we have enough here to buy more than enough herds of cattle for every household in the village when the rains return."

"No," Amutenya said, his voice quiet but laced with an icy, unshakable resolve. He looked past the wealth, his eyes fixed on the harsh, lawless horizon, his mind rapidly mapping out the next phase of his empire. "We have enough to attract more predators then we can handle by ourselves on our way back home."

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