*** Chapter 19 Day 39 Quetzchitl ***

“Tahtli,” Lizatl said, calling her father, “are you sure we are at the right place?”

“We are,” Quetzchitl replied. He was as marvelled as she was, the place had changed drastically since the last time they had been here. There had been a lot of things under construction, but this clan had managed to complete a number of buildings as well as adding new buildings that hadn’t existed before. The wall was also completed with a gate, it looked far more solid than anything that the villages of the forest had ever constructed.

When they approached the horn sounded as before, but this time a small group greeted them at the gate, they were led inside and guided towards the open fire pit as last time. It was more decorated than last time, the seats were now carved logs with comfortable vine wreathed backs.

Quetzchitl had come with his daughter and three others carrying more gifts than last time, the feathers he had taken had made for very valuable trade. His people had secured much needed food as well as other resources.

As before the language barrier continued to make things difficult and slow.

They were offered food, which they happily accepted as the men that had come with him started to unfurl the satchels they carried revealing the gifts they brought this time. It was a number of completed bows as well as more leather clothing and a bag the size of a melon full of peppers.

The peppers brought about excitement like last time, but this time the bows also drew their attention. The men shouted something to their people and several of their men gathered around excitedly examining the bows.

The same young man he had seen before, the one that had managed to track them last time, assembled one of the bows and took an arrow from the bundle that was provided as well. This was the latest batch of arrows that his village had produced. The young man nocked the arrow and pulled the string back with such grace it was as if he was a master of the bow. He aimed at a bucket that was more than a hundred paces away and loosed the arrow, it flew through the air without a whisper and pierced its target.

The whole ordeal took seconds, but it would be one he would not easily forget, even he, a great warrior, did not have as much grace or accuracy with the bow.

His people congratulated him and several attempts were made to emulate him, but it was clear that the young man was in a league of his own. A few could, with practice, become excellent archers, but they would still pale in comparison to the young man.

While they ate and enjoyed the entertainment the men provided as they set up a game for target practice, the men started talking amongst themselves. They came to some sort of conclusion and one among them ran off.

In exchange for the new gifts they were presented with a large woven basket full of feathers in excellent condition. There were more than they could ever use in a month, it would certainly aid them in continuing their trade with the other villages. However, it appeared that the elders of this village were dissatisfied with the amount they were providing.

A new member of their clan approached the seated men, in his hands was a bundle of items. He looked like a craftsman with the leather smock that he wore, though it appeared he preferred to be bare chested aside from the smock and leather gloves he donned. The man had long hair that was kept back with braiding, revealing fierce focused eyes. Clan markings were visible on his chest and back, the young man was intimidating, more so than the men he sat down with.

The young man revealed what was in his bundle, it was a number of axe heads and knives, they lacked handles, but they did not appear to be made of stone. Instead, they looked molded as if they had once been soft as clay.

“What is it made of tahtli?” his daughter asked.

There was a transformation on the face of the young man, he appeared confused, and then he spoke.

“Do you know norse?” he asked.

“Know what?” Quetzchitl was confused, it was the first time he ever heard any of them speak his native language.

“Are you not speaking norse?” the young man asked, his confusion only growing.

“We speak the tongue of our people,” he replied. “It is called nahuatl.”

“Interesting,” the young man said, his confusion fading away. “Regardless this changes things.”

During the interaction the other members of his clan began to speak excitedly, a few directed their words to the young man. He raised a hand asking them to be silent, the talking stopped.

“My name is Santos,” he introduced himself.

“I am Quetzchitl,” the older hunter said, in turn. “This is my daughter, Lizatl. We were tasked with making allies of your people by my people, as you can imagine it has been...difficult.”

“I can imagine,” Santos nodded. “I see that you can make good bows.”

“They are a gift,” Quetzchitl said.

“My family wishes to give you these items along with the feathers,” he motioned at the pieces in the bundle in his hands. “These are my craft.”

“What are they?” the older hunter asked. “They do not appear to be made of stone.”

“They are made of iron,” the young man explained. “It is harder, more durable, and more flexible than stone.”

He took one of the knives from the bundle and hit it hard with the back of an axe head, had it been stone the blade would be a shattered useless mess, but instead, the blade was only mildly scratched.

“I did not know about your people until today,” the young man said. “If I had known, I might have prepared more.”

“This is incredible,” Quetzchitl said, taking the blade and examined it.

“How can they not be made of stone?” Lizatl asked, taking an axehead in her hands to examine it as well.

“It is made of something called metal,” he explained. “It is something like a type of rock. Once heated at the right temperature and mixed with the right ingredients, it becomes steel. It is then heated again and molded by hammer blows until it takes a desired shape.”

“This is incredible,” Quetzchitl said. “With axes and knives like these we too can build as you do.”

“Would you be willing to stay for a day or two?” Santos asked. “There is so much I want to talk to you about establishing a proper trade.”

“I...yes,” he nodded. “The others will return, but I would be willing to stay for a night.”

“We’ve recently finished a house,” Santos offered. “You can stay there for the night. It doesn’t have a bed yet, but we can give you some covers.”

“A bed?” he asked, confused.

“It is a type of furniture,” the young man explained. “We use leaves and covers to make it soft to sleep on.”

“We are accustomed to the earth,” Quetzchitl said.

“Good,” Santos nodded. “Allow me to speak with my family for a moment.”

Trade talks continued thereafter, Quetzchitl was shown the various crafts Santos had forged, including some freshly forged arrowheads. Promises were made for goods in exchange for other crafts and goods. This would result in the first trade network that would span throughout the forest tribes and further beyond.

The frequency of Quetzchitl’s visits grew as a result as he became the direct trader between the village of the north and the villages of the forest. There was a high demand for steel works that Santos and his family were starting to run out of things to ask for in exchange during trade talks. Food was now abundant and a tanner among their people was providing finish clothes products to the family. There were a number of products that Santos asked for in exchange for his steel which included crafted leather backing for armor and straps.

Trade grew explosively once horses were introduced, a tribe in the plains to the east had traded a horse to a forest village for a number of spearheads. Once the tribe of the plains learned of the steel maker a small party was sent to the village of steel, as it was now being called, to do direct trade for weapons and other steel crafts. Santos was once again able to understand them, no one else seemed to share that gift.

Promises were made and an exchange agreed upon, the village of steel received a half dozen horses as the down payment.

With the new mode of transportation the village began to do direct trade with the villages of the forest. Santos found himself buried under a mountain of orders even as he attempted to forge things for the family.