Where the River Flows: The Story of Misia: A Native American Superpower

Chapter 21: The Rise of the Far West
  • Chapter 21: The Rise of the Far West
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    The Mulagi horsemen were wreaking havoc on lower Kutsan and the Kumeyai Coast. The Mulagi had succeeded to cross the Haquat River to raid the Kutsan port of Erkachit on the eastern bank of the river where it met the sea, and had even managed to seize Patai for about a week before Dinei forces arrived to push them back into the desert. In the south, the Mulagi adopted a strategy of simply withdrawing from a rebellious settlement and returning to raiding until they agreed once again to submit.

    Meanwhile, from the west coast of Franco-Inca Mouisca, the French set out on an expedition in late 1600 led by Samuel de Champlain to travel up the West Coast of the North American continent. Central America was already held by the Spanish, who also wielded significant control by this point over the west coast of Meshica. As they stopped in these ports, Champlain’s expedition picked up several translators who knew both Spanish as well as several local dialects, the most famous of which being a Michwakeh man by the name of Tangachuri. From Tangachuri, the French learned of a tribe of wealthy seafarers who came bearing wool, plums, cherries, wine, bay leaves, salt, glass, and more from the northern lands, a people known as the Pericu. Under Tangachuri’s direction, Champlain’s expedition would set out to the northwest.

    In 1601, Champlain arrived in Yenecami. Nearing the city, he noticed a number of small boats with colorful sails and of various sizes, casting nets out into the water to scoop up fish before returning to the harbor. Contrary to the cities of the Inca or the Meshica, he noticed that this port was more of a large town of rather simple sandstone and mudbrick architecture. It was surrounded by walls, walls which could still easily contain more people, but he could tell that the walls seemed to be crumbling in some parts with several bricks out of place. In the center was a rather tall conical structure that defined the skyline, but it did not impress Champlain as much as the types of structures he had seen in other cities. Still, disproportionate to the seeming lack of grandeur, the dock he stepped onto was rather lively. Some boats seemed to have fallen into disrepair, while others seemed ready to set sail. As he walked through the town, he noticed the buildings and streets were painted with colorful murals and writing in a language that was alien to him. As he made his way through, he was approached by two men with spears, who exchanged several words with Tangachuri. The men were then guided into a small inner set of walls, inside which was a large house and a man in a blue linen robe and a purple headwrap held in place by a black band with a small green jewel and several feathers sticking out.

    Tangachuri spoke to the man and then turned back towards Champlain.

    “This is King Pamil. He has heard of the legends of pale men from the east across a great ocean who were the ones to bring horses to the world. He also heard that they brought the fire bows that the Meshica used to build their empire. He asks you if you are one of the pale men.”

    Champlain responded.

    “We are not the same men who gave guns and horses to the Meshica, but we too come from the east from a land not too far away from them. Those were Spaniards. We are French.”

    Tangachuri translated Champlain’s words to the king. The king responded.

    “What is your purpose in coming to our city?”

    “Our purpose is simply to trade.”

    “I’m afraid we do not have much to offer to you. Our trade routes have been disrupted by the Cochimi. They control the entire peninsula, and they’ve been conquering and taxing and raiding the other Pericu cities. The Dinei to the north has been sending us support to rebel that we may come under their protection. It’s allowed us to fight back so far, but the Cochimi are still a threat.”

    “The Dinei you speak of, what are they like?”

    “I’ve never been there myself. They’re a great kingdom quite far to the north, but they are a holy people who accept the word of Tuparan just like us and live in his peaceful ways. They rule over the lands of the Kutsan and others with mines full of jewels and lush fields where they grow plenty of grain.”

    “Are they rich and powerful like the Meshica?”

    “They are indeed.”

    Champlain thought for a moment.

    “Let us then make a deal. We will provide you and your Dinei allies with weapons and aid in your fight against the Cochimi. In exchange, we would like to establish ourselves at the ports on your land and receive an alliance as well as favorable trade deals.”

    After making a deal with the people of Yelamu and several other Pericu settlements, Champlain ventured north through the Aztlan Sea. He soon landed at Erkachit, a city significantly larger than those of the Pericu. He would also sail up the Haquat River through the land of Kutsan, passing the pyramids of Yuum and Paruk on the way. He would meet with the emperor at his palace in Natani Nez, agreeing to a weapons deal. By early 1602, the Pericu and Dinei, with French assistance, had already begun to push back significantly against the Mulagi kingdom. At the Battle of Cadacamme in Kadakaaman towards the end of the year, a combined Dinei, French, and Pericu force besieged the oasis, during which the king surrendered. The Dinei installed their own governor over the oasis, and the Mulagi kingdom was no more.

    Compared to the Kilsu and the Meshica who ruled over vast fertile lands, the Dinei land was much more sparse. Although its population regrew, without the introduction of Old World crops, technology, and animals, this growth was not as fast as that in the east or in Mesoamerica, and it was a much emptier landscape to begin with. Large populations existed around rivers oases and in the montane forests, but between them was empty desert roamed by nomadic or semi-nomadic tribes. However, they still had plenty to offer in the form of minerals, with copper, gold, silver, and jewels scattered across its vast mountains, which filled the French coffers in exchange for weapons. Some of the land was also ideal for growing more of the rare Pericu pepper, allowing the formation of a Franco-Dinei trade partnership and alliance. France would also introduce a number of crops into the region, such as he potato and several Old World crops like wheat and chickpeas that thrived in more arid climates, and would even come up with the idea to introduce camels, which arrived in the region in 1617.

    Throughout the early 1600s, the Dinei pushed north in a campaign of conquest, seeking out new lands in which to construct mines. To the north of the Oasis lands lay an even harsher landscape– similar to the one that existed to its south, but colder. The northern regions were dominated primarily by hunter gatherers such as the Nuchus and Sosonis, who had also since adopted the horse. During a particularly bad winter in 1605, a Nuchu army attacked south, raiding the Dinei’s native land directly. In the ensuing Nuchu Wars, the Dinei pushed north along the Upper Haquat and Sidskidiagi Rivers and into the mountains.

    One of the most important of these conquests was that of the Piapa basin. Historically, the fertile lands surrounding the salty Lake Piapa served as an oasis for the Nuchus and Sosonis. Around the late 10th or early 11th Century, a group of missionaries made their way north and settled in the basin. Although this group was likely of mixed-origin, they likely originated somewhere around the Hopi lands, since the religious practices in the region are most similar to those in Hopi country. Introducing agriculture, they turned the oasis into farmland alongside the locals, most of whom were Sosoni with a significant Nuchu majority, although over time the people would come to simply refer to themselves as the Newe Piapa, meaning the “People of Piapa”, more commonly referred to as Piapans. The most important of these agriculture settlements coexisting peacefully in the region was Masohna at the southern end of the lake, meaning “Place of Maasaw”. The region also became important for its mines in the surrounding mountains, trading their minerals to become wealthy. When the Papians came under attack from surrounding Sosoni and Nuchu tribes, Dinei Emperor Dighin rode with his armies into the city of Masohna in 1611, seizing the nearby mines as part of his empire.

    To the east, the Upper Haquat and Sidskidiagi and the Upper Kotsui had a similar history of initially being entirely nomadic until Maasawists migrated into the land bringing their religion and agriculture, although the migrations occurred more naturally and the farming would occur on a much smaller scale, with the locals still relying in large part on shepherding. Conquering this vast mountainous region, the Dinei established the settlement of Dzilola to the east of the mountains as a mining colony in 1625. In much of the land that was taken, the Dinei enslaved some of the conquered nomadic peoples to work the mines, but would also end up buying African slaves to work the mines, leading to the presence of a significant black population in the Assinwatis.

    Meanwhile in the west, Champlain had also made contact with the Dadacians to the north in 1606. After arriving at Yelapu, he turned south towards Socoisuka and met King Arkeh. By this time, the Dadacians had experienced a long period of peace, expanding throughout the entire valley since the days of Daraten I. The French were pleased to find out that the region possessed even more mountains with gold to mine, and they would bring the Dadacians gold, slaves, and a number of Old World goods.

    Using their new weaponry, the Dadacians began to expand deeper into the mountains that surrounded their territory. The subdued smaller tribes and establishing mining colonies in the Wappin Mountains to the east, bringing slaves with them to work the mines. Soon after, the Dadacians turned their attention south, pushing south along the coastal range, down into the Chumash territory south of the Valley of Dadacia, and further south into the land of the Kish, seizing the shipping village of Yanga.
    In 1632, a Dinei expeditionary force from the Kumeyai coast set out north unknowingly into Dadacian Kish country, leading them to be attacked by the Dadacian force. Angered, the Kumeyai governor ordered more troops be sent north, resulting in a conflict over the border region. Both Emperor Dighin II of the Dinei and King Heyeshmin of Dadacia sent extra troops to the Kish and Kumeyai lands to defend their territory. In the battle of Cabazon pass in 1633, the Dadacians won a pyrrhic victory over the Dinei, losing far more men, but were now able to push east through the mountains towards the Kamya Sea and the Haquat delta to the south. The Dadacian army successfully torched much of the city of Ahawitk at the south end of the lake, but were quickly surrounded by the Dinei force and destroyed. In the battle of Yanga in 1634, the Dinei attacked the important Kish coastal town, but were ultimately pushed back south. As the war was beginning to arrive at a stalemate that autumn, France ordered the fighting to stop and called on the two sides to hold peace talks or else it would intervene on whichever side transgressed. Dighin II invited Heyeshmin to come to Orayvi for peace talks overseen by the French, which he accepted. In the end, the two sides formalized their borders to where they had previously been.

    The winter of 1641-2 was one of the most brutal in North American history. That spring, the waters frozen in the montane glaciers melted much later into the season, delaying the flooding of the Haquat and Kotsui Rivers and resulting in excessive flooding once they did melt, causing damage especially to Kutsan. The excessive flooding led to more available farmland afterward, but in a shorter growing season. Similar flooding also occurred in Dadacia. Meanwhile in the north, large numbers of people starved in the mountain settlements, which were being even more frequently attacked by nomads. In an offensive that began that spring, Dighin II led another push north, this time taking the Yampapa River Plain. Similar to the Piapa Basin, the river plain was home to a diverse Maasawist population of mostly Sosoni practicing small-scale agriculture, seizing the region. Up until this point, Kutsan had remained the primary breadbasket of the empire, with other significant agricultural areas along the upper Kotsui and in the Piapa basin. With the seizure of the Yampapa, a new area ideal for the cultivation of potatoes had opened up, allowing the Dinei to feed more people more easily from a greater variety of sources.

    That same winter, Dadacian King Daraten III fought off a number of invaders as well, and soon after received a letter from a Maasawist Kalapuya chieftain from Chifin asking for support in a war that had broken out among the peoples of the Wilamut Valley to the north as a result of the poor winter conditions. The Kalapuya and other less populous related peoples of the Wilamut were a relatively primitive farming people, not unlike the Celts who lived on Rome’s northern frontiers, and had populations that were both Maasawist and non-Maasawist. Daraten marched with his army through the redwood forests and mountains to the north, seizing control of the region in a five-year campaign. During that time, Daraten united the entire valley under his rule, and would spend the next several years establishing garrisons to force the people of the surrounding mountains into submission. Daraten declared that all political decisions in the valley would have to be made in Chifin, due to its proximity to the lands of Dadacia that would allow them to maintain a degree of control, and mandated that all residents must convert to Maasawism. Having brought peace to the valley, Daraten III declared himself King of Dadacia and of the Kalapuya.

    The French presence was to the benefit of the major powers on the west of the continent. Yenecami became a thriving port, and the Pericu were even integrated into the French system, being able to operate as merchants. Despite hardships here and there, the population of West America was able to grow quickly with the introduction of new crops, and previously underdeveloped areas like the Wilamut Valley, the Yampapa Plain, and the Piapa Basin also saw particularly rapid growth. Of course, the 17th Century and the worst years of the Little Ice Age would also have a profound impact on the Great Kingdom to the east.
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    Chapter 22: The Mad Bear
  • TRIGGER WARNING: Castration, abuse, and other nasty stuff.
    Chapter 22: The Mad Bear

    The young man sat in the dungeon, in a puddle of his own urine and feces. He could barely see anything, but he could feel his ribs on his chest and the long hair growing down his back. He had no idea how long he had been in there. There was little light from the outside and there was a rather consistent stench. It could have been days. Maybe weeks. Maybe months. At this point he had more or less lost track of time. The only sounds he heard were those of the guards and of the rodents who scurried about in the dark.

    All of a sudden, there were three loud bangs on the metal door.

    “The time has come. The emperor wishes to see you.”

    The door opened, and the candlelight hit his face. Two burly guards, faces covered in dark hoods, marched into the cell. They each picked him up by his brittle arms and marched him up the steps out of the stone seller. He reflexively shut his eyes upon being brought into a bright hall with stained glass windows. In the middle was a copper wash basin filled with soap bubbles. His moldy tunic was ripped off, and he was thrown naked into the water.

    “Scrub yourself all over. The Emperor wants you squeaky clean.”

    The water was cold, but he did as he was told. It was the first bath he had received in who knows how long. As he stepped out to dry himself, he was once again picked up by the guards, who trimmed all of the hair on his body from his head down to his genitalia without a single cut. He was lifted onto a wooden X-shaped cross and had each of his limbs tied to each branch– splaying out his arms and his legs. In this position, he was lifted up and carried down the hall and through the palace.

    Through a pair of great wooden doors, he was carried into the throne room. In the front was his long-time friend since childhood, Emperor Maquah, glaring him down sternly from the throne in a black satin robe with gold trimmings. Surrounding the throne were a number of women dressed in a similar robe all seated on cushions, clearly indicating their status as wives and concubines– something that seemed bizarre to the young man, considering how both his friend and recent predecessors had since scorned the idea of forming a harem. The motive for the creation of this harem was clear– it included the young man’s mother, sisters, aunts, female cousins, and even a few former lovers. In the middle of the throne room was a low wooden table around which a number of people in satin robes of various colors sat on crimson silk cushions. Tied up naked to a wooden stake on the other side of the room and staring back silently at the young man was the Emperor’s now former wife.

    “My old friend,” said the Emperor, “for years, we were raised alongside each other. For years, I considered you another brother. After the loss of my older brother Lenaswa, you were there for me, and when your father died, I was there for you. Of all of the people to go behind my back and sleep with the women to whom I was married, you were the last I would expect. I would never expect this treason from my close friend or from my beloved, and now I am left with a traitor and a whore. To my former beloved, the last thing that you shall see before you die will be the punishment of your lover.”

    The cross, still held up by the guards, was lowered onto a wooden board. A bag was placed over the young man’s head. It was the end of the line. He could not see, but he could feel the axe being raised above him.

    “Drop the axe!”

    There was a thud. The axe sliced through flesh and splattered the board with blood. But the young man was still alive.
    ***

    The Peponki Festival occurred every winter solstice, and all across the Great Kingdom and surrounding lands, Hileni Misians and non-Hilenis alike were free to join in the fun. Tainos, Jews, Englishmen, Frenchmen, and even newly arrived Dutchmen, referred to as “Netelantiaki” were part of the fun, exchanging gifts, lighting colorful candles all over town, and feasting on large roasts. In Cahoqua, European representatives were invited annually to take part in the festivities. In the banquet hall, several large fatty roasted geese were laid out onto the large tables. They were served alongside freshly baked cornbread, peppered beans, mushroom and manoomin stew, cranberry sauce, paw-paw custard, strawberry maple cakes, and a sort of pumpkin souffle. As was typical, the meal was accompanied with two drinks– one being a rich musky wine and the other being warm yaupon sweetened with maple syrup and raspberry. The people all told stories and jokes as they ate and drank merrily, going onto their second, third, and fourth cups of wine.

    By contrast, Maquah was not in the same cheerful mood he was known to be in during previous years.

    “Sire,” asked his close advisor. “Is everything to your liking?”

    “The meal is fine.”

    “That is not what I asked.”

    There was a pause.

    “Is this still about–”

    “Don’t say their names,” the Emperor said, still humiliated and left broken inside from the betrayal.

    “Would you like it if we, perhaps, brought in the eunuch?”

    Upon hearing this suggestion, he grinned ear to ear.

    “Why, not? Let’s present him to the crowd.”

    Maquah turned to a servant nearby that was pouring a pot of yaupon into someone’s cup.

    “You! Summon the eunuch!”

    The emperor’s voice boomed through the hall. Most of the foreign dignitaries in the hall were by this point fluent in Inoka Misian. Still, only a few were familiar with the word. Even those who did were confused. Human castration was not typically practiced in Misia.

    “My friends, as you are gathered here, you may wonder as to the whereabouts of a certain friend of mine who used to frequently appear at these gatherings. Well, he is now about to arrive, and will provide an example as to what we do here to those who betray and violate the marriage of their fellow man.”

    In walked a hairless man in a plain white silk robe escorted by guards. What happened next shocked many of the guests, as he was forced to fully disrobe and a number of important individuals were invited to help torture and humiliate him. Afterward, he would be escorted out of the banquet hall.

    “May this be a reminder to you all. During this most important of festivals, we all must remember to act in ways that are in line with the spiritual healing and betterment of ourselves and of all people, lest we stray and subject ourselves from the wrath of Keshiwia.”

    Several of the guests were no longer hungry. The rest continued to eat and drink into the night, laughing about the spectacle they had witnessed.
    ***

    There are a number of famous Misian Emperors throughout history that changed the fate of the Great Kingdom. Tetinshua I of Ileni is known for being the first great emperor and uniting the vast realm. Mamantwensah I is known for managing first contact with the Europeans and asserting Misian power and sovereignty in a rapidly-changing world. The next Emperor to have an equally profound impact would be Maquah I, also known as Maquah the Mad Bear.

    Mamantwensah the Great was born in 1475 and reigned from 1494 until his death in 1543. His son, Manawesquah II, was born in 1502 and reigned from 1543 until his death in 1575. His son, Mahsitaqua, was born in 1531 and reigned from 1575 until his death in 1601. His son, Palawonsa, was born in 1555 and reigned from 1601 until succumbing to illness in 1610 at the age of 55. His son, Apekonit, was born in 1578, and took over the throne in 1610. Prior to his ascendance to his father’s throne, he would have two sons. Lenaswa the Bison, born in 1601 shortly after Palawonsa became emperor, was the eldest. His younger brother, Maquah the Bear, was born two years later in 1603.

    Lenaswa was a strong, charismatic, and outgoing young man, who spent most of his time playing sports and hunting, and was overall a popular child. Maquah was described as also being playful and kindhearted, although he had fewer friends than his brother and often spent more of his time inside reading. He was also described as being a bit of a hothead when he was young, although as he grew he appeared to soften and grow more kind-hearted. The relationship between Leni and Maki, as they were called, was rather complex. Lenaswa and his friends would frequently tease and belittle Maquah, although at the end of the day the two brothers ultimately cared about each other’s well being. In one incident, a group of children from an elite family tease Maquah calling him fat and stupid compared to his brother, and Lenaswa would show up with the very same friends with whom he belittled his brother to beat up the bullies.

    Maquah would read anything he could get his hands on, and one book that appealed to him strongly was Tafit Sacuto’s With Regards to Federation and Democracy. The Monsaic Jew’s text described in detail the nature of democratic federalism in Haudenosaunia, where decisions were made by sachems elected by the people. Maquah was somewhat jealous of the fact that his older brother was in line for the throne and was viewed as the more important of the two brothers. The idea that men were meant to control their own destinies was an appealing idea to young Maquah. It was also appealing to many outside the palace– the book had become popular among literate commoners, being spread in large part by Jews and Tainos, and even local governors liked the idea of greater amounts of local autonomy.

    As Maquah grew, he would continue to struggle with his social awkwardness, but become more handsome, charming, and outgoing, and would begin to gain the attention of young women. In 1624, at the age of 21, he married out of love to a woman whose name is now lost to history.

    One year prior in 1623, an event would occur known as the Makina Plot. Following particularly cool winter temperatures, demand for furs increased in Europe, so several northern governors and generals would attack several Ashinabe tribes to the north, attacking them and demanding tribute in the form of furs. In turn, Emperor Apekonit placed extra taxes on the northern governors, hoping to profit from the fur trade. As a result, two of the northern governors hatched a plot to have Emperor Apekonit assassinated. When he was on a pilgrimage to Makina, the governor who ruled over the Menomini Peninsula was expecting him, and so he sent a group of Anishinabe Great Lakes pirates to attack and kill him. The assassination was a success, and the new emperor Lenaswa declared a new campaign against the Ashinabe raiders, a campaign which he went out on himself. Maquah, as the effective regent, called for an investigation into the events that had transpired. The governor’s son confessed to his father’s actions. As a result, the governor was executed, and Lenaswa allowed the governor’s son to take over as the new governor. Although the emperor technically had control over who the governor was, the emperor typically allowed the position to pass from father to son, something which enraged Maquah.

    Lenaswa’s reign as emperor was short-lived. In 1625, Lenaswa went out directly on a campaign against the Chatiks on the Great Plains. While out on a hunt in the area, several Chatiks captured and killed him, sending his head back to the Misian forces, who wound up suing for peace. Lenaswa’s head was brought back to Cahoqua. Maquah was angered by the decision of the generals on the field to make peace without consulting him, but he ultimately listened to his advisors and agreed to keep the peace.

    Perhaps this desire to keep the peace was one that was driven by his own declining mental state and inability to handle a war at the time. While the loss of his father and his brother had a profound impact on him, the moment that seemed to change Maquah the most was in 1626 when he found out about his wife’s affair with one of his few friends from childhood. By this point, Maquah had already been struggling with grief over his father and brother, and this was the point where he completely snapped. Both his wife and his friend were imprisoned in isolation and separate from each other. During their imprisonment, he would gather all of his friend’s female relatives– mother, sisters, aunts, cousins– as well as several of his friend’s former lovers and gather them together as concubines in his new harem. He then tied up both his former friend and former wife in the throne room. In front of everyone, he had his friend publicly and brutally castrated and then executed his former wife. The names of both were stamped out of all available records, and he would simply from that point on refer to his former wife as “the whore” and his former friend as “the eunuch”.

    The eunuch was treated as a spectacle in the imperial court as part of his ongoing punishment and humiliation. Maquah would frequently have intercourse with each of his concubines in front of the court– including his eunuch, and would often invite guests to assault and sodomize the eunuch. After six years of torture, the eunuch was finally able to commit suicide after breaking a glass window and cutting himself with a shard.

    Perhaps the height of his madness was in 1631. After several of his concubines plotted to kill him, he was warned by his favorite wife Wapimohsa. He had about half of his concubines murdered, and the rest scattered across the empire where they could pose no threat, leaving only him and the empress.

    Maquah had grown resentful– resentful of the imperial system, resentful of the governors, resentful of the Ashenabes, resentful of the plains tribes, and unable to trust anyone else, eager to put anyone who might challenge him in their place. And he would also be remembered as one of Misia’s greatest emperors.​
     
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    Chapter 23: Rumble in the Jungle
  • Chapter 23: Rumble in the Jungle

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    Tenochtitlan was perhaps the wealthiest city in the world. It was the capital and largest city of the Meshica Empire, a state that played a crucial role in the global spice trade. Power was concentrated in the temperate highlands. The Central Plateau of Anawak and the Kiche highlands in the southeast allowed large populations to live relatively comfortably, and possessed ideal soil for growing a number of useful crops and hosted a number of useful minerals. Still, much of the empire’s wealth came from the lowlands by the South Misian and Caribbean Seas. This fertile land was particularly ideal for rubber as well as tropical fruits and spices, and especially for cacao, which was still growing increasingly popular on European markets. Plantations were developed on cleared jungle land in order to satisfy the increasing demand, bringing more profits to Tenochtitlan.

    In the autumn of 1641, lowland farmers began to notice that cooling climates were leading to crop failures on the Rubber Coast and Yucatan Peninsula. While most staple food crops would have been able to deal with the dropping temperatures in Mesoamerica, many of the lowland farmers relied on the sale of rubber, fruits, spices, and cacao for access to other forms of food. Many farmers wrote to their local governors, asking for permission to clear more land, including some of their existing plantation land, to grow maize and sweet potatoes. With Tenochtitlan not wanting to lose out on their annual profits, they refused to allow any plantation land to be cleared, and Montezuma VI himself implemented further taxes on the lowland farmers. That winter, hundreds of thousands of lowland farmers starved due to the legally enforced monoculture in the Meshica Famine of 1642.

    A large factor that allowed many farmers to survive, however, were the churches. Christianity in the empire still operated in secret. In some areas further from the imperial core, churches were able to bribe corrupt officials to remain open. In other areas, they remained completely underground, sometimes hidden in caves, thick jungle, or unsuspecting houses. Christianity had spread rapidly in the lowland regions, and many churches organized to provide food to those in need. The aid provided by the church allowed Christianity to grow even more popular among the lowlanders.

    That March, after countless had starved, many had felt that enough was enough, and that the time of the Meshica had come to an end. On March 20, Yosep of Mayapan led an attack on Meshica tax collectors in the city of Mayapan. The plan was only to kill the tax collectors and make a statement, thinking he would probably die soon after. However, the locals ended up joining him, overthrowing all of the authorities and declaring the city to be a new Christian Dominion with him as its Chief Apostle.

    That spring, what came to be known as the Josephan Rebellion spread throughout the lowlands of the northern Yucatan peninsula. The Christian Dominion lacked a real standing army, instead relying on locally organized militias. Recognizing that they lacked an advantage on the open battlefield, the Christian militiamen mostly hid in the jungles and plantations, cutting supply lines and attacking traversing troops, keeping the city of Mayapan protected. Nearby towns all fell to the revolt in a matter of weeks, very often the result of the locals themselves rising up against the government. On Good Friday, the Christian Dominion took Sisal, a small port in northwestern Yucatan that was home to a significant Taino community. The local Taino population, which had a historically antagonistic relationship with the Christians and lived rather relatively securely under Meshica protection, viewed the rebels with suspicion, and were massacred by the locals who saw the mercantile population as imperial agents. Appalled by the violence, Yosep stated that Easter that all Christian militias were now to answer to him directly, officially forming the Salvation Army.

    Despite this more direct control, some attacks against the Taino were still carried out. when Campeche fell in May, seeing the writing on the wall, the Taino agreed to side with the Christians, feeling that the Meshica were being too oppressive with their taxation anyway and believing that it was in their interest to side with Yosep. However, after the Salvation Army lost the initial battle, the Taino were instead raided and taken by the Meshica authorities to be sacrificed. When the Salvation Army succeeded the following day, they came to find that the entire Taino ghetto was liquidated.

    At the start of June, the Christian Dominion had only controlled the northern Yucatan, including Campeche, Mayapan, Koba, and Tulum. The presence of the Meshica navy on Cozumel meant that the Meshica were frequently able to raid the coasts. However, as the toll of occupation grew heavier, locals came to oppose the large military presence and rebelled, allowing the Salvation Army to make it onto the island. Over the course of the summer months, the Salvation Army would continue to push south, taking Chaktumal, Calakmul, Tikal, and Lakamha, doubling the area under their control. To the west, more rebellions were breaking out. In August, a Meshica force had to fight off a number of rebels in the area around Zempoala who had pledged allegiance to Yosep and the Christian Dominion.

    In December, the Salvation Army launched one of their most ambitious attacks yet, a siege against the port of Coatzacoalcos. Hiding in the surrounding swamps and forests, they began by attacking Meshica troops. Realizing what was happening, extra troops were sent by sea. On Christmas, the Salvation Army attempted to storm Coatzacoalcos and were greeted by a far larger force than was expected, which included a number of angry Spaniards who did not wish to see their trade being disrupted. The Meshica retreated, but the Christians were left severely weakened and took a far greater number of casualties. The Meshica then surrounded the city with the weakened Christians inside and easily destroyed them on December 27. Most fell in battle, with the rest being captured for sacrifice in Tenochtitlan.

    With a huge portion of the Salvation Army destroyed, they were sent back on the run through the countryside. Throughout the next year, the Meshica fought off guerilla soldiers as they marched through the lowlands towards the Mayan lands. They easily retook Cozumel on March 4, 1643. The following month, they landed in Tulum, and were able to begin their push into the Yucatan peninsula. To deal with the rebels, they massacred entire rebel villages and burned down jungles where they were expected to be hiding. On May 18, the Meshica retook Mayapan, where the whole war started. In September, the Meshica retook Calakmul, which had since become the new headquarters of the rebellion, and captured Chief Apostle Yosep. He was brought to Tenochtitlan to be sacrificed on the Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan. According to legend, he stated “My death is not the end, for Christ himself will return to deliver the Christian people from the tyranny of the Meshica”.

    Fighting continued in the jungles for another several months, not really ending until January 1644. Although the Josephan Rebellion had been crushed, the existence of such a rebellion proved to Tenochtitlan that the Christians were a threat to their empire. Montezuma VI ordered that all remaining Christians be hunted down and sacrificed and that corrupt officials that allowed churches to exist be killed and replaced. A small Christian presence would be allowed to remain in the old port cities such as Zempoala and Coatzacoalas, but anyone suspected of proselytizing or supporting illegal Christians would be executed.

    Still, the fact that the rebellion had gotten as far as it did proved to those watching that the forces of Christianity could resist the power of the Meshica. Christianity would continue to spread rapidly throughout the empire among those who opposed the rule of the Meshica.​
     
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    Chapter 24: Mourning Dove
  • Chapter 24: Mourning Dove
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    Settling down with Wapimohsa was perhaps the best decision Maquah could make for his mental health. Her loyalty allowed him to feel that he could once more trust in people around him, and with the death of the eunuch the following year, his obsession over him and the whore had begun to fade, and he started to mellow. He began to consult a midewini, a Mide cleric and medicine man, about undergoing a process of spiritual healing. He received physical treatment in the form of tobacco, wine, yaupon, and a number of herbs as well as massages and other physical therapies. He began to meditate, spend time in nature, and pray to the Great Spirit Keshiwia to restore him. And in the spring of 1633, his daughter was born.

    The palace was loud with the frequent screams of the newborn, who had yet to be named in accordance with Misian custom. Maquah found peace in the gardens of the palace grounds where plethoras of flowers and herbs and fruits and vegetables grew from the soil. He sat on his favorite marble bench, surrounded on all sides by a series of tall hedges with sunflowers winding their way up them and reaching towards the sky while directly under the sun. Sometimes, he went out to read Mide scriptures, histories, novellas, treatises and whatever other documents were of interest to him. Today, he had a bag of sunflower seeds, munching on some but tossing most to the calmly cooing mourning doves that knew to gather around his feet as the warm sun and pleasant breeze graced the opening.

    Caring for the doves was easy. All they needed was a few seeds and they would be happy and want to be around you. Then they would be able to take care of themselves. People were a lot more complicated, Maquah thought. Their appreciation was more fickle. It could not simply be won over in the same way, and no man could look after oneself without a community. For humans, fear was like seeds to the pigeons– they could be kept in line, but you could not guarantee they would ever really care. And now, he had a loving wife and a newborn daughter, two people he could not simply win over from fear.

    He shut his eyes and allowed his head to fall back, basking in the sun that beamed onto his face and reflected off his satin robes.

    All of a sudden, he heard someone step towards him. He immediately sprung up, dropping the bag of seeds and causing several of the doves to flap their wings and dash to the safety of the hedge. He pulled a jade dagger with a golden handle out of his belt, aiming it in the direction of the noise.

    “Who is it? Who dares to sneak up on Maquah Kilsu?”

    From behind the hedge his wife stepped forward dressed in pale blue satin.

    “I thought by now you would recognize my footsteps.”

    He lowered the knife.

    “Wapimohsa, I–”

    “You what? You thought that I was here to kill you?”

    “I didn’t know.”

    “My beloved, you don’t have to pull a weapon on me. The garden is guarded.”

    He stood frozen for a moment. She grabbed his hand.

    “I know you’re still scared of betrayal, but look how far you’ve come.”

    “I’m not scared. I take precautions. There’s a difference.”

    By his arm she led him to sit back on the marble bench amongst the sunflower hedges and the mourning doves that had since returned cooing in full force to pick at the seeds that had been spilled from the bag.

    “When I was a child, my mother told me that when you have a child, for many days you are haunted by dark spirits and are in a deep need of healing. It’s been a month, and I feel those dark spirits around me. I’ve gone to the midewini, but what we need right now is each other.”

    The doves had finished most of the seeds before them and were poking at the sack on the ground. Wapimohsa picked it up, reached into the bag, and threw several more.

    “The weather’s nice. I should join you at this spot more often.”

    “I usually come here to get away from everything.”

    “And I’ve come here to see you because you can’t get away from everything. There are people in that palace who need you. Including your daughter.”

    He heard more footsteps coming.

    “Beloved, get down!”

    They both stood up, her more slowly than him. He pulled out his knife and extended his arm across her body in the direction of the sound. A nurse in a pink robe came forward carrying their newborn.

    “Oh that’s enough already!”

    She grabbed his knife hand, bending it and hurting his hand so that he dropped the jade dagger. She caught it by the golden handle and tossed it, sending it flying over the hedge.

    “Thank you,” she said, taking her daughter and forcefully passing her into her husband’s arms. Both sat down as the nurse left.

    “Really?” she said. “A dagger at your own child?”

    “I didn’t know she was coming.”

    “I asked the nurse to bring her here so you could spend some time with your daughter.”

    He looked into the infant’s face. The baby was awake when she was carried over, but almost instantaneously she fell asleep in his arms to the sun on her face and the peaceful cooing of the doves. He looked at the doves and looked back at her. In earlier years, he had been a monster, someone who faced great pain at the hands of others and dished out even more pain in response. He did not know what the future held. He did not know if he would really become a better man or if dark forces would continue to bring him down. But the chaos of the outside world did not matter. Now, there were sunflowers. Now, there was sun. Now, there were doves. Now, there was peace.

    “I know what we should name her,” he said to his wife, who was still throwing seeds at the mourning doves.

    “What?”

    “Mimia.”​
     
    Chapter 25: The Servants of Ketzalcoatl
  • Chapter 25: The Servants of Ketzalcoatl

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    Itzcoatl walked through the main market located in the Pericu quarter of Matanchen, not far from the shore. On his otherwise bare shoulders he wore a jaguar-fur shawl and carried a ceremonial jade-tipped brass spear. Walking behind each of his shoulders were three more men, six in total, each carrying an imperial-produced musket with a polished bayonet fixed onto the end. Perhaps it was not the most direct route, but the cotton tarps that stretched across the narrow streets guarded him from the sun that beat down much hotter than up in the highlands of Tenochtitlan. On his way he nearly tripped over several children who were running about, punting a rubber ulama ball with their forearms, almost falling into two piles of salt and a red dust that was presumably some sort of ground pepper.

    Although the indigenous Nayari people made up the majority population of the city, Pericu trade was its lifeblood, and the Pericu quarter was its beating heart. Matanchen was perhaps one of the oldest continuously inhabited sites in Mesoamerica going back millennia, but until well under a thousand years ago, it was one of the many small and unimportant fishing villages dotting the hair’s-width coastal strip between the central highlands and the vast Pacific that never supported the same type of great maritime commerce and culture that existed in the east. When the Pericu arrived, they brought salt from Awaa Cala, glass from Kutsan, pottery from Ashipewahk, minerals and lumber from Dadacia, wool from Cochiman herders, and the elusive Pericu pepper in exchange for Mesoamerican cotton, gold, cacao, spices, honey, and octli and balche. In the span of a few decades, the town transformed from a sleepy village into a thriving port, connecting the Nayaris to West America. In Tenochtitlan, the Pericu, referred to as the “Pelicatecs”, came to be known as the “The Taino of the West”– a bizarre group of outsiders with alien customs who nonetheless played a vital economic role as seafaring merchants.

    At the other end of the market, he reached a large, stone building with several chimneys with vents on top. As he approached the large arched doorway, he glanced at a sign written in the Pericu script on top and Meshica script underneath. As he read the words “Yenecami Inn”, he knew he was at the right place. He held his arm down and behind him, palm facing back towards the men behind him, ordering them to stop. He reached his arm behind his right shoulder, and with a come hither motion he ordered the first musketeer behind his right shoulder to enter with him.

    The building was significantly cooler on the inside than it was outside. There were a number of tables around which men were gathered, drinking a variety of beverages of a variety of colors out of glass cups. Around one table, a large number of men were gathered, cheering over some game which Itzcoatl could only determine if he could see over the heads of the large crowd. To the right, he saw a long stone counter, on top of which a middle aged Pericu man with three colorful feathers sticking out of his head bun was pouring drinks out of glass bottles which he kept on the shelf behind him. Itzcoatl approached the counter and struck it with his staff to get the man’s attention. The Pericu man, who was busy wiping off a bottle with a piece of cloth, glanced over, finished what he was doing, and placed the bottle back on the shelf before making his way over.

    “Can I help you?”

    “I’m not from around these parts. You tell me what you recommend.”

    “Well,” he said, “if you’re from elsewhere in the empire I’d assume you’re used to octli and balche, but of course we also import some drinks from abroad.”

    “Like Kutsan wine?”

    “So you’re familiar with what Matanchen has to offer.”

    “Of course, but I would also love to be familiar with the person serving me.”

    “The name’s Yenec.”

    “Yenec, that’s a peculiar name.”

    “Well, my parents named me for the city our ancestors came from, Yenecami. The inn’s named after the place too. My ancestors who built this place figured the name would be a comfort to fellow travelers from the peninsula.”

    “You ever been there?”

    “Of course! In my younger days I ran with some sailors up and down the Sea of Aztlan. I’d pass by Yenecami all the time on the way north.”

    “You’ve been to Kutsan?”

    “Yes, I’ve even been all the way up to Orayvi and prayed to Maasaw Tuparan in the Great Kiva.”

    Itzcoatl did not know much about the Pericu religious practices, but he could tell the smiling innkeeper was happy to be asked about his travels.

    “I’ve never been in a Kiwa.”

    “They’re lovely. Temples with great underground chambers where you can really commune with the creator and his son.”

    “This sounds an awful lot like what those Kwistecs believe.”

    “No sir, of course not,” he responded. “Those who follow Maasaw Tuparan are loyal to Tenochtitlan. We would never kill countless of our human brothers like the Salvation Army. But anyway, I could also tell you about my travels to Awaa Cala. Beautiful white sands and salt formations. All of the salt in the world comes from there, and that’s not even to mention the whales that come every year. They have an absolutely beautiful kiva there as well. Where are you from, may I ask?”

    “Tenochtitlan.”

    Yenec looked at the jade spear and noticed the man behind Itzcoatl holding a musket.

    “Huh, we don’t get very many imperial agents in these parts. What brings you here?”

    “Local tax records show that the price and quantity of sales of Kutsan wine have gone up dramatically. It seems that a lot of the sales have been coming from your establishment.”

    “Well who doesn’t love wine? If you would like to try some we have plenty now that the latest shipment came in.”

    “Has anyone here bought your wine in bulk?”

    “A few people actually.”

    “Do you have any names?”

    “Well, there is one person. Cheyuwac, the priest. He runs the central Kiva.”

    “Oh, is there an upcoming Pericu religious festival involving grape wine?”

    “No, not particularly, at least not in the lands of the Pericu. I mean, we like it, but we mostly use nochtli wine for our religious rituals.”

    Itzcoatl paused to contemplate. Seeing the look on his face, Yenec continued.

    “I know, typically most of you locals associate the Pericu with Kutsan grape wine. Truth is we never really grew grapes in the land of the Pericu. That mostly comes from parts of Kutsan and Dadacia. I guess you don’t really associate us with nochtli so much since you lot already have that here.”

    “I guess my question is,” said Itzcoatl–

    “Hey Yenec!” a man shouted in a think Pericu accent, stumbling towards the bar and slamming down a coin. “Pour me some more of that Octli?”

    “Of course,” said Yenec, pouring the bottle into a small glass. Itzcoatl looked on as the man who had just unintentionally shouted in his ear lifted the shot and gulped it down in a matter of seconds. He left another coin as if he had forgotten to pay and walked away.

    “Sir, you forgot your– eh, forget it.”

    Yenec turned back towards Itzcoatl.

    “Sorry. As you were saying?”

    “My question is, why do you think this priest of your Pericu religion is purchasing wine in bulk if you have no such ritual involving it? Do you think he’s having a big wine party?”

    “No sir, that doesn’t sound like the Cheyuwac I know. Perhaps he’s buying it for someone else.”

    Itzcoatl’s stare tightened. Considering it a confused expression, Yenec elaborated.

    “Tuparan tells us to help and cooperate peacefully with others, so maybe he’s just being helpful. Maybe there are just a lot more people in the city who just drink a lot more wine for some reason and he’s doing them a favor.”

    “So let’s say there was another group of people in the city that used wine for ritual purposes.”

    “Well, I’m not sure who that would be, but I’m sure that Cheyuwac would be perfectly willing to–”
    Yenec noticed that Itzcoatl’s eyebrows raised and his eyes widened as he turned to look at the musketeer behind his shoulder. He decided he had said too much.

    “You know what?” Itzcoatl said. “That’s enough. Thank you. Please, if you could just let us know where we could find him?”

    “Well sir, he’s a priest of Maasaw. You can usually find him by the town Kiwa.”
    ***

    It was not a particularly large mass, but it was good enough. They may not have had their own building, but the dense forests outside of Matanchen were tranquil and provided shelter from the threat of imperial agents. The fact that Petlo was able to help so many flee west after the failed rebellion was a miracle. The fact that Petlo was able to build a congregation of dozens in this strange new place was also a miracle. The fact that Petlo and his comrades were able to convert local Nayaris and convince them to join the congregation was a miracle even more so.

    One of the greatest miracles of all, however, had been the hospitality of the locals. Most people out east had never met a Pericu or any other Maasawist for that matter, but they instantly found a connection with these peace-loving individuals who, although were of a different faith, shared similar values. Petlo had found comradery in the local Maasawist priest, and he knew that his friend would be there any second as per usual to deliver the communion wine.

    All of a sudden, from the woods behind every tree emerged men with metal chest plates and muskets fixed with bayonets who began to charge towards the congregation. Several dozen men were now crowded together in the narrow opening of the forest that was once their sanctuary. In front of them all stepped a man with bare shoulders who wore a jaguar-fur shawl and carried a ceremonial jade-tipped brass spear.

    “In the name of the Emperor Montezuma VI and of the gods whom he serves, the Servants of Ketzacoatl place you under arrest.”
    Petlo looked at the leader of the musketeers. Over his shoulder, he saw a man in white linen with a blue satin head wrap held in place by a leather band with a red feather sticking out.

    “Cheyuwac!” Petlo said. “We trusted you! What is the meaning of this!”

    Musketeer to Itzcoatl’s right raised his weapon towards the Christian priest but Itzcoatl held his hand out to the sound telling him to stand back.

    “Don’t kill him. The emperor says that as many as possible are to be captured alive for sacrifice. Now take them away!” he ordered. “Tie them up and throw them into the wagons!”

    As the men marched off with the captured Christians, Itzcoatl and Cheyuwac stayed behind.

    “I did what you asked. Is our agreement kept?”

    “Yes,” Itzcoatl said. “You and your people are not to face any harm. However, if we catch you aiding the Kwistecs any further, the Pericu will be sacrificed alongside them. Is that clear.”

    “Of course,” said the priest.

    “Good. Glad we have arrived at an understanding.”

    Itzcoatl followed his men and the Christian prisoners. Cheyuwac remained in silence.​
     
    Chapter 26: The Lynx's Den
  • Chapter 26: The Lynx's Den

    Since before the arrival of Columbus and Cabot, the North American continent had been growing colder, and perhaps nowhere was this felt as much as in the boreal forests of the north. The people who lived there were used to cool winters, but the increasingly cool temperatures meant a greater desire for furs as well as a less bountiful harvest of the manoomin they frequently collected from the nearby lakes. During this time, there were several attacks southward against the Misians and eastern tribes from northerners seeking greater resources, with some taking up piracy on the Great Lakes. The Lake Wars, as they were called, resulted in the Kilsu Dynasty seizing the city of Makina and the nearby holy island of Makinak in the strait between Lakes Karegnondi and Michigami by the Kilsu Dynasty, an area which already held a significant Ileni Misian population and had been under the control of previous dynasties.

    Among the people known by the exonym Anishinabe, the plague passed rather slowly, although the damage it had done was significant, leaving behind less than one in five people. While the mass death caused a crisis of faith for many, it also eased the standard of living, with the comparative amounts of manoomin, furs, and wild berries becoming all the more plentiful. The increase of surplus food in Misia also meant that the Anishinabe were able to trade for excess grain from the south. Still, as the population rebounded, the worst years of the Little Ice Age were yet to come, and would come full force with the North American coldsnap of 1641. That autumn, many noticed that it started to get cooler more quickly than in previous years, and many of the local leaders feared the worst was to come.

    Of the Anishinabe ogimas, the most powerful was one by the name of Bizhiw, who effectively ruled the entirety of the Menomi Peninsula from the large village of Munising and held sway among the smaller Anishinabe chiefdoms. His land was effectively an island from his brethren, surrounded on one side by the Great Kingdom and on the other by the Great Lakes. Still, great men, women, and those of other spirits would come to him. He would sit on his throne in his great wigwam adorned with moose antlers, wearing the skin of a lynx with the skin of a bear stretched out before him as a carpet, atop which sat a small oak table and behind which sat a cushion. Here, he would meet minor chieftains, ambassadors, and others. Today, he would be meeting with…

    “Andeg,” said the mighty ogima, “please enter.”

    Andeg stepped inside.

    “Please, drink,” he said, pointing to the clay kettle on the oak table and the cups next to it. “It’s shukwa with maple.”

    He sat upon the buckskin pillow, poured the shuqua into a cup, and took a sip.

    “You have a mission for me?”

    “Indeed I do,” Bizhiw replied. “Tell me, how has your dinner table been looking?”

    “Not excellent,” Andeg answered. “We have to conserve our manoomin supplies and we can barely import maize from the south. Hunting has been okay, but the hunting grounds have been running thin.”

    “And you say this as a diplomat from a prominent clan,” Bizhiw said.

    “The situation is dire, sir. A number of clans have already clashed with the Kilsu forces on raids to the south.”

    “Those clans have the right idea. It’s either starve or fight. And that is why I want to send you to the Dakota.”

    “The Dakota sir?”

    “Yes, the Dakota. I want to propose not merely an alliance, but a coordinated attack. If they can work with our western bands to recapture Pateota, we will be able to march south and retake the holy island.”

    “Are you suggesting a holy war?”

    “Exactly. We take Makinak and every clan not yet rallied to the cause will join. Northern Mihsiwahk is already in disarray. If we can simply break through, we will have all that we need. We’ll never go hungry again.”
     
    Chapter 27: The Governor Wars
  • Chapter 27: The Governor Wars

    In 1633, his daughter Mimia was born. Although he had several other children with his concubines, they all either died shortly after or were banished with their mothers and disowned. Mimia was different. She was the first child he had with his wife, and she softened his heart, at least on the personal and familial level. On a political level, Maquah still wanted blood. Fortunately for him, war was not far away.
    Like elsewhere on the continent, the winter of 1641 to 1642 was rather brutal. It was not particularly uncommon for there to be bands of Anishinabe raiders attacking the northern settlements, particularly during the winter when resources were more scarce. Usually, any raiding that did occur could be dealt with by armed civilians while the army mostly stayed in the Inoka Plain to protect the imperial core, in the south to protect the empire from the Spanish and Meshica, and a small force in the Awansachis to keep the peace on the Eastern Seaboard. This year, the raids were like nothing seen before. The Anishinabe Ogima Bizhiw led a series of successful raids on large portions of the empire’s northern territories. That January, he allied with several Dakota chiefs to take over the city of Pateota, a northern city where the Dakota and Anishinabe populations were nearly equal to those of the Hileni Misians. The following month, they seized the holy island of Makina. Meanwhile, raids from the west into the Inoka plain had also increased, keeping the army busy, and forcing Maquah to send more soldiers from the south and east. General Alewa, a southern general, was sent north in March to beat back Ogima Bizhiw and his allies.
    When Alewa arrived in the north, he found that up to that point most of the fighting had been done by militias and through efforts led by the local governors, who had grown resentful of the empire taking so long to come and help. In a matter of a few weeks, General Alewa was able to liberate Pateota, which by that point had been under Anishinabe and Dakota occupation for three months. Having achieved that initial success in May, he set out east with imperial forces, governor’s forces, and local militias to take Makina, which fell to the Misian force that July. By the end of summer, Ogima Bizhiw’s camp was raided by Lake Nipigon, during which he was captured by Alewa’s forces. Bizhiw was taken alive, in accordance with the demands of Maquah, who wished to bring him to his court to be executed (although some also suspect he may have wanted to castrate the Anishinabe Ogima).
    Although it had warmed up during the spring and summer months, it was still chillier than usual for that time of year, and food was in a relatively shorter supply in the north. In late April, word had reached Cahoqua of the worsening famine in the north as food saved for the winter was running low and the spring crop was proving unbountiful. In response, Maquah implemented heavier taxes on the southern provinces, hoping to redistribute southern maize and manoomin to the north. Other crops such as yaupon, tobacco, and cotton were also taxed, hoping that the revenue from their sales could help pay for excess grain from Meshica. Although the south did have more available food than the north, it was still less than usual, and many southern farmers began to oppose the new taxes. This resulted, most prominently, in the Tipiwik rebellion, a large rebellion that started with attacks on tax collectors in the city of Tipiwik and spread across the southern manoomin country of the Mississippi alluvial plain from June through July. Once more, soldiers were recalled from the southern coast and the western frontier to put down the rebellion, which had mostly been subdued by the end of August. Still, throughout the summer months, revolutionary doctrines had spread throughout the south. As local leaders organized the community against imperial power, the words of Tafit Sacuto’s With Regards to Federation and Democracy became increasingly popular, spreading the idea that greater local autonomy and popular rule.
    Meanwhile, although the imperial government was limited in its ability to secure more food, Alewa and the local governors who led local militias against the Ojibwe and Dakota were able to secure food supplies captured from the invaders. While the imperial authority was weak and ineffective, General Alewa and the governors of the northern provinces were growing increasingly popular with the locals. When Bizhiw was captured, rather than being directly taken to Cahoqua, he was first paraded around Makina in a local victory parade. Around the same time, word was also reaching Alewa of the defeat of the Tipiwik Rebellion and the growing discontent in his native south. Believing that a prime opportunity presented itself, he made Bizhiw an offer that he could go free if he led his forces alongside Alewa and the governors to seize Cahoqua and make him the new emperor. To the governors, he made the additional promise of greater autonomy.
    This was the beginning of the Governor Wars. Renegade imperial forces led by Alewa, Ojibwe and Dakota forces led primarily by Bizhiw, and the militias of the Machikato, Kikapowa, Winepa, and Patowa provinces united to march south towards Milioke and demanded that the governor in Shicaqua join their cause. With his refusal, Milioke came under siege. Outnumbered by Alewa’s army, the local imperial force was quickly defeated, and on October 10th, Milioke fell to the rebellious army. Just thirteen days later, Shicaqua fell to the same fate. The governor was executed in the local square, and Alewa ordered that all major food stores should be raided and distributed to those loyal to him. While it was a stunning victory, the brutality of this first major battle led several of the governors to question Alewa’s promise of respect towards local provinces.
    Throughout the autumn, Alewa’s forces made their way south along the Inokaspi River, fighting for control over the Inoka plain. Alewa was held off between Peorua and Cahoqua, but at the expense of removing troops from the Alluvial Plain. By late December, much of southern manoomin country had once again fallen into rebellion. Alewa and the northern governors sent a letter to the southern governors, offering for them to join Alewa’s campaign, prompting them to march north and attack Nicota in mid February, only to be pushed back by imperial forces. However, the attack subsided when a series of messengers from Cahoqua began to reach both the front lines as well as the local populations of the Tunica, Catowa, Akansa, and Nalumen provinces. In the message clearly designed to undermine the power of the rebellious governors, Maquah decreed that he would be reforming the empire to allow for the elections of provincial sachems who would both run the provinces and form a rotating council in Cahoqua.
    Almost immediately following the Sacuto Decree (as it came to be called), significant portions of the southern militias, many of which were ideologically driven, began to turn against their governors, allowing Maquah’s forces to reroute them and end the battle for Nicota by the end of March. In the north meanwhile, Alewa was continuously nearing Cahoqua, expecting the southern forces to come to his aid. However, as the southern rebellion collapsed and the counter-rebellion joined Maquah, Alewa was completely unprepared for the Battle of Cahoqua in March. After his first attack was repelled following heavy casualties, he retreated north to his camp and regrouped. Believing Alewa was a failure and not trusting his intentions, Patowa governor Entonamawi assassinated Alewa and declared himself the new leader of the force.
    Rather than engage Maquah directly at Cahoqua, Entomamawi opted to retreat and rally the other governors in the east against Maquah’s attempt to strip them of their power. In the ensuing fighting, Maquah pursued the rebel governors eastward into the Miyamia province, and also rallied the governor of Shawanokia to their side. However, counter rebellions quickly developed in both provinces. In Irirona, the governor declared support for the rebellion. The locals, who were perhaps some of the most well-connected to the Haudenosaunee due to proximity, stormed the governor’s palace in Santusti and reorganized their own militia, which stormed into nearby Washtanoqua on May 2, taking away from some of Entomamawi’s legitimacy. As fighting continued throughout the other two provinces, the other governors came to see Entomamawi as a failure and assassinated him. Apequa, the governor of Miyamia, took over as the new leader of the rebellion. However, after assassination by members of his own militia killed him in August following the capture of Wiatenon, each of the governors declared themselves leaders and began to fight amongst themselves.
    Throughout the war, several other governors would rebel and clash with each other, but by January of 1644, the fighting was mostly over, ending when the people of Kakinam handed over their governor to Maquah. Bizhiw had already been dead for the past month, assassinated by his own troops as well.​
     
    Chapter 28: The Maquah Constitution
  • Chapter 28: The Maquah Constitution

    In order to understand the political structures of East America, it is necessary to first understand the history of the local clan structures. Prior to the 16th Century, local family clans held most of the power in the non-Misian portions of eastern North America. While men were sachems, these family units were often defined by clan mothers, who would often be the ones casting votes on local sachems. In larger federations, such as Haudenosaunia and Tsenacommacah, these local sachems would then also choose representatives to serve in the Grand Council, which led the entire federation. Misia also had a clan structure, albeit one where women held less power, but power primarily rested with the emperor and his bureaucracy. However, the bureaucracy was not free of clan interference and familial ties. Often, rather than heavily interfere, the emperor would allow governor positions to be passed around the members of particularly prominent local aristocratic clans as a way of ensuring local support.

    The clan structure, however, was largely killed by the mass deaths from the plague, as family units were cut down to size and people moved into the newly freed lots of vacant land. In the Seaboard states, political power still rested with the heads of households, but these households had in many cases become much smaller. Households of twenty often transformed into houses of four from disease alone, and families were even split up geographically as land was distributed. In Misia, people moved entire provinces away for new plots of land. As birthrates skyrocketed across the continent following the mass death, these clan structures never made a full comeback. While children continued to revere their parents, the previous generations had created an expectation that they would all be able to carve out their own niche and create their own families independently. The one place where clan structures remained was among aristocratic families, both among old aristocrats who supported Mamantwensah during the Plague Wars of the 1490s thus holding onto their power as well as the new aristocrats who rose to power as Mamantwensah’s most valiant supporters and thus inherited the largest portions of land and bureaucratic positions.

    To Emperor Maquah, remnants of this clan structure and the entrenched aristocratic families that dominated provincial bureaucracy were his biggest threat, and following the Governor Wars, he knew that once and for all he needed to destroy this threat. As such, the Maquah Constitution as it came to be called sought to use popular rule and limits on the powers of local rulers to ensure that imperial power would not be threatened by any overly ambitious individuals.

    Using the Seaboard System as a guide, Maquah declared that all provinces would elect local councils of sachems in which each Misian family unit cast one vote. This rule excluded Tainos, Europeans, Jews, Ojibwes, Dakotas, and other groups considered to be foreigners. This rule was also to be the case regardless of family size, and thus was meant to undermine the powers of larger clans. Each local council of lesser sachems would elect four great sachems, who would act both as governors and as representatives of the Imperial Assembly. At any given time, two sachems would be leading the province from the provincial council, while the other two would be in Cahoqua. One sachem would arrive in Cahoqua to take the place of another on every solstice and equinox, ensuring that any two great sachems will only be working together for three seasons at a time, making conspiracy more difficult.

    As for the Grand Assembly, its power remained limited. While it could raise taxes, build infrastructure, and handle a wide variety of economic matters, veto power for any policy or any election or appointment still rested with the emperor, who also remained the head of the military. However, placing economic matters in the hands of the assembly would ensure that sachems would be responsible in the case of a crisis rather than the emperor himself. Additionally, term limits were applied to each of the sachems. One could only serve as a grand sachem for one consecutive four-year term, and one could only serve as a sachem in general for four two consecutive terms. This provision was again meant to ensure that sachems would not achieve significant power to challenge the emperor.

    Meanwhile, as Misia was racked with internal divisions, the states along the coast saw an opportunity. Following the cold snap, both the Haudenosaunee and Wabanaki were pushing north into Ojibwe territory to try to dominate the fur trade. Along the Wepistuk River in territories ostensibly controlled by the Wabanaki, the local population was largely made up of ethnically and linguistically Haudenic peoples, who began letting Haudenosaunee hunters and traders into their land to establish outposts. In 1642, skirmishes between Wabanaki forces and Haudenosaunee militias at Haudenosaunee outposts in Wabanaki territory combined with Misia’s inability to enforce the Treaty of St. John’s led to the outbreak of war, as the Haudenosaunee launched a full-scale invasion into the lower Wepistuk valley. Thus began the Fur War.

    Due to the alliance between Cadeskit and Wereocomoco, the Tsenacommacah garrisoned its position along its northern border before crossing the Chesapeake Strait and attacking the Akomak peninsula, successfully making a landing and slowly advancing north. The English, who were the primary European power trading with all three, intervened on the side of the Haudenosaunee, while the French and the Dutch began to attempt to send support to the Wabanaki and Tsenacommacans, although the English blockade made such a venture difficult. It is also worth noting that most of this fighting was done by local companies rather than the European nations in question, with England embroiled in its own civil war. Still, the Misia-Takamcook company remained the largest European force in the region, and was able to, for the most part, maintain power. However, aid to Tsenacommacah managed to sneak through via land due to the French and Dutch presence on Misia’s Atlantic coast. The diversion of Haudenosaunee troops to the southern front freed up Wabanaki resources. However, rather than being used to march north to reclaim territory along the Wepistuk, the Wabanaki marched south and successfully occupied Mashowomuk in the spring of 1643. This success inspired Lenape uprisings in Manhattan and Saukamachin, which were quickly put down, but not without significant riots against the English, Jewish, and Haudenosaunee quarters. The Haudenosaunee however, with their more numerous and well-trained forces, were able to push back the Wabanaki in a matter of months.

    As soon as fighting ended in Misia in January 1644, Maquah marched east with his forces, declaring that the war was to end immediately, with any state not obliging being invaded by the massive Misian force. That March, all sides met in Sandusti. In the resulting treaty, the Haudenosaunee were allowed to keep all Haudenic lands along the Wepistuk, while the Wabanaki were guaranteed their right to pass through these lands to access hunting grounds further north. To the south, the city of Akomak was granted to Tsenacommacah, while the borders otherwise saw little change. Most notably, however, was Maquah’s decree that no European power could forcefully monopolize trade at any North American port, establishing the same policy in the Seaboard states that had already existed in Misia. In practice, the English would still remain Haudenosaunia’s main European trading partner, but now French and Dutch ships could not be prevented from trading at any harbor.

    Just before Misia’s first elections in the autumn of 1644, Maquah added what came to be known as the Sandusti Doctrine to his constitution: no European power would be allowed to hold any coercive power over Misia or its neighbors or prevent each other from trading. Misia and Misia alone was the rightful hegemon of North America.​
     
    Chapter 29: Defenestration and Colonization
  • Chapter 29: Defenestration and Colonization

    In the early 1600s, Europe was divided. With the ongoing Reformation, the Hapsburg Empire sought to cement its power in Europe through its defense of the Catholic church with the wealth gained from its dominance of the Caribbean and trade with Meshica. Meanwhile, the Protestant English and Dutch along with the majority Catholic but religiously pluralistic France (France had a Protestant king but the Catholic Church was still granted significant institutional power) sought to keep the Hapsburgs from expanding in power. War on the European continent seemed inevitable.
    This inevitable war would indeed come in 1618. Following attempts by the Counter-Reformation to suppress Protestantism in Bohemia, fighting broke out between the Bohemian rebels and the Hapsburgs. In March of 1619, as fighting began to spread throughout the Holy Roman Empire, the anti-Hapsburg alliance of France, England, and the Netherlands intervened, sending troops to aid the Bohemians. With the anti-Hapsburg alliance quickly gaining ground, the Catholic Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth began to intervene against the Protestants that August. In 1620, Sweden responded by supporting Protestant rebellions in Prussia and invading Latvia, leading the Commonwealth to divert troops. In 1622, when it was clear that the Protestant powers had an advantage, the Hapsburgs asked Paris for peace, recognizing that France, as a state where the Church still held significant power, would not simply want Protestant hegemony over the Holy Roman Empire. The two sides met in 1623 in the city of Munich, where the Peace of Bavaria would establish the rights to national sovereignty and put an end to the Counter-Reformation. Thus, the relatively brief War of the Defenestration came to an end.
    Still, while Europe was ostensibly at peace, conflict remained on a local level. Through the 1640s to the 1660s, poor harvests resulted in famines across the Holy Roman Empire. Although the local rulers attempted to suppress any forms of violence, many Protestants and Catholics began to attack each other. More often, however, the Jewish populations would face the brunt of the blame, leading to pogroms across the Holy Roman Empire. Many of these Jews fled to the Netherlands, Poland, and the European and Anatolian portions of the Ottoman Empire. Some, hearing that the wealthiest Jewish communities in the world could be found across the Atlantic, chose to make the voyage west. However, with the rise of the Sabbatean movement as well as the general belief among many that the conditions in Europe spelt the coming of the end times, many chose to flee to Ottoman Palestine. Many settled in Jerusalem, Hebron, Tiberias, and Safed, which were by this time regarded as the four holy cities with thriving Jewish populations, but an increasing number of newcomers began to also establish themselves on the coast, establishing vibrant communities primarily in Gaza, Jaffa, Haifa, and Acre. These German Jewish were joined by Polish Jews during the Great Deluge.
    Meanwhile, for the rest of Europe, an increasingly popular prospect was to flee to fertile yet sparsely populated lands of British Argentina. Seeking to garrison the north against the Iberians. In particular, the Virginia Province came to be settled largely by English aristocrats. Settlement remained sparse, with the central settlement of Janera only having a population of a few hundred. Following increased investment by James I after taking the throne in 1603, Janera, which was renamed Jamestown under governor John Ratcliffe, transformed from a backwater on the edge of England’s empire into a major sugarcane producing region. St. Paul, the capital of the Drakeland Province, soon found similar improvements. South of Drakeland, the Maryland Province was founded by Lord Baltimore in 1632 with its capital in St. Mary’s.
    Further south, a major boon would come to Bonusairs, renamed to Fairwinds, when large numbers of Puritan settlers moved to the city and surrounding areas within the Plate Province and began farming the land, starting in the 1620s. As the Puritans gained increasing power in the state and began to support their particular form of religious orthodoxy, Thomas Hooker and Robert Williams left and established the colonies of Parana to the north and Providence to the south to allow for greater degrees of religious freedom in the 1630s.
    Soon, German migrants would begin making their way to these colonies in large numbers, starting in the 1640s, in many cases moving up-river to find new land to settle. However, the province which would end up having the largest German population was that of Pennsylvania. While William Penn initially established the colony in 1680 across the River Plate from Fairwinds and Providence as a haven for Quakers, it quickly became the most diverse province of British Argentina, and Philadelphia quickly became a major city.
    England was not the only European power expanding its empire. Although King Philip had initially planned on making Portugal a Spanish province, the ire of nobles and the slipping power of the Hapsburgs elsewhere on the continent made him decide to increase Portuguese autonomy instead, and even help secure Portugal’s colonial interests. While the Dutch East India Company was becoming increasingly powerful in the western portions of the Malay Archipelago, the Portuguese continued to establish their colonies of Lução, Celebes, Tidore, and Timor, collectively known as the Portuguese East Indies.
    To the North, Russia was continuing to expand across the Eurasian steppe and taiga and reached the Pacific in 1639. In 1648, Semyon Dezhnyov was the first to lead an expedition through what came to be known as the Dezhnyov Sea separating Siberia from North America. When his expedition discovered the Alaskan Peninsula, Dezhnyov began to realize that the newly discovered land may be connected to Misia. Over the coming decades, the Czar would call for the establishment of trade outposts in order to acquire more furs to be sold on European markets.
    However, while Russia was quickly making headway into the Pacific Northwest, it was not the only state with ambitions in that region.​
     
    Chapter 30: The Blood of the Bear
  • Chapter 30: The Blood of the Bear

    Buffalo_Hunt.jpg

    Among the Chatiks, as with other tribes who roamed the Ihkipaka grasslands, to kill one’s first bison was a rite of passage into manhood, and Kuruks was determined to get the kill. He knew the shape of the bison’s tracks, the smell of fresh dung, and now, just in the distance, he saw a large herd. There must have been twenty of them– mostly cows with several larger ones that could be clearly identified as bulls. He lifted his bow, aiming at the leg of the largest of the animals, closing one eye and feeling the wind on his face to ensure the proper trajectory. Once he was sure of his aim, he let go of the arrow. Sure enough, the sharp flint arrowhead pierced the thigh of the mighty beast, which began bucking wildly.

    Immediately, he heard behind him the bellowing of a bison horn, and he knew the signal to charge. All men began shouting and making noise while racing towards the herd. All ran away, but the weakened bull ran behind. With the rest of the bison gone, the hunters surrounded the last remaining beast, shooting at its legs and torso to bring it to its knees. With the bison lying on the ground, Kuruks climbed down from his horse and removed another arrow from his quiver, aiming it squarely between the beast’s eyes.

    He muttered a brief prayer and released the arrow. The great bull lay lifeless.

    All of a sudden, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around towards the east, the direction of his camp. Smoke was rising toward the sky, more smoke than a hundred bonfires.

    “Come on, let’s go, we’ll butcher the beast later! We need to get back there, now!”

    Kuruks climbed back onto his horse and rode with the rest of the party towards the camp. As he got closer, he could hear horrible screaming and the soot-filled air forced its way into his nostrils. He could now see tipis burning, but before he could take in anything else going on, he heard a series of shouts in a language he did not understand and several loud blasts. The men riding at the front fell to the ground, while those just behind them rode back into the line, causing disorder among the hunting party. Armored men on decorated horses with shields and metal swords and long spears charged right at the fleeing men.

    Kuruks broke from the formation and steered his horse around the onslaught. Looking at the village from the other side, he could confirm that everything he knew was burning to ash, even the grass itself being set ablaze. The bloodied corpses of women and children lay on the ground, while the survivors were crying out, held in metal chains.
    As the last men of the hunting party were sliced and skewered, one of the strange men pointed at him, shouting once more in a language he did not know. As he attempted to ride away from the burning camp, he heard a loud bang, and suddenly his horse stopped and collapsed to the ground. Kuruks began to run away on-foot, but he could hear the galloping of hooves coming from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, and the last thing he would see was a metal-tipped pike striking right between his eyes.
    ***
    The Anishinabe threat was to be no more, and the Ihkipaka was being brought under the imperial boot once and for all. The people of his empire were happy, reaping the benefits of the new constitution that granted them a stake in their government for the past twenty years. And on an evening like this, all Maquah needed was to be able to sit safely in his throne room with his loving wife by his side.

    A servant entered in a crimson robe carrying a small saucer with a small ceramic cup.

    “Your highness,” he said, “I bring you your warm cup of wine before bed.”

    “Thank you,” he said looking at the single cup, “but what about the empress?”

    “Of course, your highness,” said the servant, handing Maquah the cup and saucer. “I shall bring you another cup shortly.”

    The servant exited the throne room.

    “It’s ok,” Wahpimohsa said. “I don’t need to drink right now.”

    “Please, my love, I insist.”

    “Well,” Wahpimohsa laughed, “I suppose if my emperor is telling me.”

    Wahpimosa held the saucer and lifted the cup to her lips, taking a large sip. She then put it down on the small mahogany side table between the two thrones.

    Just as Maquah was easing back into the cushions on his chair, he heard a gagging sound. He looked to his left, and suddenly Wahpimosa had fallen out of her chair and onto the floor, holding onto her own neck.

    “My queen? Get the doctor, now!” he frantically shouted.

    As Maquah knelt over his wife, she rolled over onto her back and began foaming at the mouth.

    “Your highness, I have returned with you–”

    The returning servant, seeing what was happening, dropped his dishware on the ground. They shattered immediately.

    “No,” Maquah said crying, “Wahpimohsa, are you with me? Wake up!”

    She choked one last time, and lay lifeless.

    “NO!” Maquah shouted.

    He lifted his head and looked around. He looked at the guards, and the butler, and then back at his wife. Someone wanted him dead, and like a fool, he had given the poison meant for himself for his wife.

    All he could do now was avenge her, avenge both of them.
    ***
    With the first elections in 1644, Maquah had implemented the first form of democratic governance in the history of the Great Kingdom. Just like Maquah had intended, this government insulated his power from any rebellion or challenger to the imperial throne. More importantly, while the sachems debated tax policy, currency, and licenses, Maquah was able to focus on what he considered to be “military matters”, and by “military matters”, he of course meant commit genocide.

    The recent war with the Anishinabe and Dakota expanded the empire’s borders northward, and both in the new and existing former territories, there were large numbers of these “barbarian” people. During a pilgrimage to Makinak, Maquah declared the establishment of the new Makinawa province, including both sides of the strait of Makinak with its capital in the city of Makina. While this province was at the time mainly inhabited with Anishinabe, the locals were to all be killed, banished, or forcefully assimilated and spread throughout the empire, resulting in many children being sent to boarding schools in the southern provinces to become Misinized. New settlers moved in from all over the empire while the indigenous inhabitants would, over the decades, be wiped out. This process also took place in Pateota and elsewhere in the Machikato province, which had significant non-Ileni populations who would also be wiped out over the course of the coming decades.

    In vengeance for the bloodshed, several plains bands of Dakota aligned together in 1655 to attack Misia’s eastern provinces, with raiding parties reaching as far east as the Mississippi. In 1656, with the increasing violence coming from the plains and with a burning desire to conquer the grasslands to avenge his brother’s death all those years ago, Maquah declared that the Lakota and Chatiks were both to be wiped out so that their lands may be redistributed to Misian farmers. This declaration would begin what would come to be known as the Ihkipaka Genocide.

    Naturally, his actions would bring Maquah a number of enemies, including former aristocrats opposed to his political program as well as minorities and those sympathetic who opposed his genocidal actions. It is therefore unknown exactly who attempted to assassinate him in the autumn of 1664, but when his wife dropped dead from a poisoned cup of wine meant for him, he demanded vengeance and immediately had his butler and the entirety of the kitchen staff working that hour executed. Still, he remained unsatisfied. Just a month later, he ordered the imperial guard to hunt down the sons he had with the woman of his former harem and have their skulls brought to him. Throughout the next year and a half, he would become increasingly erratic, with witnesses claiming he frequently muttered to himself and broke down crying. He continuously executed more and more people on the palace grounds, and began to bring captives from his genocidal campaign of all genders into the palace to be castrated, abused, and tortured in a wide variety of other ways in front of his audiences. Although he had once been tempered, his maniacal nature had returned with a vengeance. The mad bear was out of hibernation. The question was who could stop him.
    ***

    Like he did all those years ago, Maquah found peace in the palace gardens, among the flowers and fruits and herbs and vegetables and sunflower-covered hedges that shielded his favorite marble bench, exposed only to the sun. It was the first truly warm day of spring, and with the warm sun and light breeze that found its way through the maze onto his face, he peacefully enjoyed the weather, throwing seeds to the mourning doves at his feet. In the past, he would usually consume some of the seeds himself; these days he was hardly ever hungry. Either way, why would he even deserve the food? Would the birds kill his wife? The mourning doves don’t kill anyone. The mimiaki don’t kill anyone.

    He shut his eyes and allowed his head to fall back, basking in the sun that beamed onto his face and warmed his black satin robes, reflecting on the golden lining.

    All of a sudden, he heard someone step towards him. He immediately sprung up, dropping the bag of seeds and causing several of the doves to flap their wings and dash to the safety of the hedge. He pulled his jade dagger out of his belt, aiming it in the direction of the noise.

    “Who is it? Who dares to sneak up on Maquah Kilsu?”

    From behind the hedge his daughter stepped forward dressed in pale blue satin.

    “I thought by now you would recognize my footsteps, father.”

    “Mimia, my darling, my apologies.”

    “I mean really, a dagger at your own child?”

    “Mimia, I have a lot on my mind,” he said, sitting back down and placing the blade back into his belt.

    “I suppose you do, now that half of the palace staff still needs to be replaced.”

    She sat down on the bench next to him. A small smile came across the princess’s countenance, with eyes not unlike those of his late wife.

    “The weather’s nice. I should join you at this spot more often.”

    “I usually come here to get away from everything.”

    “Away from what?”

    “The people who want me dead, who want us dead, who wanted your mother dead.”

    “Father, there have been no attempts on your life since. You will be fine.”

    “You don’t know that,” Maquah said, “you don’t know all I have seen, all I have been through! Even those you trust the most can stab you in the back!”

    Mimia stood up to walk away. Maquah calmed down, and took a breath.

    “Wait,” he said standing up. “Mimia, please come back here. You’re the only one I trust.”

    Mimia turned back towards her father and hugged him.

    “Thank you for trusting me.”

    “I love you, Mimia.”

    Holding back tears, Mimia answered back:

    “I love you too, father.”

    Her hands made her way down her father’s back towards the golden handle of the dagger. She pulled it out of its black leather sheath and sunk it into her father’s back. She stepped back and looked at her father in his dry, widening eyes. There was shock, yes, but no pain or anger, simply relief, simply peace.

    He collapsed onto the ground, and she held him on his knee. She kissed his forehead. The reign of madness was at an end.​
     
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    Chapter 31: Mimia the Great
  • Chapter 31: Mimia the Great

    In the Spring of 1666, chaos in the imperial court ended when then Princess Mimia ended her maniacal father’s life. When she emerged from the palace gardens with the Emperor’s corpse, the guards simply helped her bring the cadaver to the morgue. The following day, on April 20, the date of Mimia’s 33rd birthday, she was crowned as the new Empress.

    Prior to that point, Mimia had a rather eventful life. In 1643, as a young girl, Mimia snuck into a carriage to join her father on his campaign eastward against the rebel generals. Despite angry letters from Wahpimosa, Maquah opted to keep the young girl by her side rather than send her home to Cahoqua, and she joined him all the way through the treaty of Sandusti. When she returned to Cahoqua to an angry mother, Mimia longed to travel again. When she turned 18 in 1651, Mimia begged her parents to allow her to travel North America to learn about the world around her. Once again, Wahpimohsa was concerned, although her father, wanting to build a future for his heir, agreed to sponsor a well-guarded voyage for her in a loop around the continent. That summer, she set out, sailing up the Inokaspi to Shikakwa and journeyed through the Great Lakes. Crossing the Ongniara Canal to Lake Ontario, she explored the Haudenosaunee heartland and visited Kawanoteh before sailing down the Wepistuk and visiting St. John’s on Takamcook. She then sailed down the eastern coast of the continent all the way to Tekesta, the entire way meeting with dignitaries in the various cities she visited.

    In the Bahamas, Mimia’s ship was sent off course and she was kidnapped by a group of pirates. As they held her ship for ransom, she warned them all of her father’s brutality, causing them to fear retribution. Eventually, they turned against their captain giving Mimia control. Once she led the crew to return the boat to the rest of the fleet, she sent the pirates away on their own ship with a small sum of money which she paid them for their efforts. She also left a torch on the ground next to a barrel of gunpowder, which ignited and sank the entire boat as she went off towards Shawasha.

    Mimia would continue to make several more voyages, taking a more active role in the navigatory aspect. In her famous southern journey, she stopped at Hispaniola and traveled all the way to British Argentina, witnessing the the ongoing process of armed settlers moving onto the vast plains of the Pampas. On the way back, she visited Spanish Central America, remarking that it would be an ideal site for a canal linking the two oceans, and then visited the Meshica Empire, remarking that the port of Zempoala, while smaller than Shawasha, was just as wealthy if not even wealthier.

    Perhaps the most famous of her journeys was her Transatlantic voyage. After a brief stop in Takamcook, she crossed the Atlantic to Britain, also visiting France and the Netherlands, where she was impressed by the local water management and canal systems, leading her to refer to the Dutch as “the most civilized of the race of pale men”. Sailing around Iberia, she stopped in Gibraltar before journeying across the Mediterranean, following the northern shores all the way to the Ottoman Empire, becoming the first American in history to set foot in Constantinople and met with the Ottoman Sultan. She traveled down the Levantine coast. At the port of Jaffa, she dismounted to explore what she had learned from Christians and Jews in the New World to be holy land. Her description was as follows:

    “In the land known to the Eropiaki race as Palestina and to the Yehutiaki as Israel, the alleged Holy Ground is barren, with not a sign of the Great Spirit’s blessing. While a handful of ports bustle with a moderate trickle of activity, the land is stripped barren. Indeed, the climate is pleasant and delightful, but the holy ground of the Cristiaki and Yehutiaki is desolate and unlovely. Yerushalem, described as a “City Upon a Hill”, is indeed the crown jewel of this land and worthy of perhaps some praise, but the city is small, the size of a standard Mihsiwahki village, and its population appears to be no greater than the isle of Makinak. While great houses of worship exist, the crowded city leaves the Yehutiaki little room to worship at their most sacred site, the wall of a destroyed temple atop which is constructed a Muselimi shrine. Clearly, the men across the Atlantic have not the slightest clue as to how to respect their gods.”

    Mimia also commented that it was “peculiar that no canal exists between the Mediterranean Sea and the Red Sea.” Afterward, she returned to Cahoqua from her Transatlantic journey in December of 1665, just in time for Peponki. However, rather than returning to a happy feast, she found that her mother had been dead for over a year, her father had gone mad, and the court was in disarray.

    As Empress, the first challenge Mimia faced was military failures in the plains and boreal regions. While Kilsu settlements were being established, endless attacks on them by the native tribes persisted. The military, while more than capable of massacring entire villages, had fallen into disarray with its chief commander going mad and its resources spread thin, unable to guard every single town. In response, Mimia, after reorganizing the military, issued a decree to provide every settler with a firearm, much like what she had witnessed in Argentina. In the following decades, attacks on settlements decreased significantly, and in her 1667 decree, Mimia declared an end to the indiscriminate slaughter of plains tribes by the military.

    This state, however, was short-lived. Following the death of a young Misian boy under mysterious circumstances in 1671 in Kwakwansi, a village not far west of the city of Mayalamsem, the local Chatiks were blamed. In response, a group of villagers took their guns to the plains and attacked an entire Chatik camp, leading to an all-out war in which an alliance between the Chatiks and the locals. This conflict would spread, and soon the Oceti Sakowin alliance between the Dakota, Lakota, and Nakota joined. While Mimia never restored the genocidal order, she declared that the military was permitted to do as it pleased to any native village or camp deemed by settlers to be a threat, leading to a continuation of the massacres from before.

    Meanwhile, as settlement on the plains increased, populations shifted throughout the empire. Most notably, poor landless workers from the south moved west or north to fill niches left by northerners moving west. In response, in 1676, Misia endorsed the importation of more African slaves primarily from the Spanish Caribbean colonies. However, the increase in Spanish ships in Shawasha and Mabila was met with large-scale protests by many of the local Tainos. The 1676 Taino rebellion was swiftly put down by the Misian military, although to prevent future unrest, Mimia declared that Taino merchants would be granted priority in conducting trade between Misia and the Caribbean at Misian ports. The increasing presence of Taino merchants actually led to an increase in the Taino population in the Caribbean, even expanding the size of the Aragua on Hispaniola. Ironically, the very people who had for nearly two centuries hated the Spanish for their genocidal actions were now themselves taking part in Spain’s atrocities, taking a larger part in the Spanish empire’s slave trade and forming a middle class. As a result, resentment against the Taino also began to grow among the black population and poor mestizos. Slave results and popular uprisings, while crushed, would often target the Taino population. This prejudice would eventually play a role in shaping the future Ayitian-Latin conflict.

    As more far-out settlements neared the Assinwati mountains, trade had increased with the Dinei Empire. Initially, this trade was mostly peaceful, however, as more gold mined in Dzilola and surrounding regions made their way to Cahoqua, rumors of a city of gold in the mountains just east of the continental divide came with them. In 1682, Mimia ordered an expeditionary force to the far west to investigate the city. Although Dzilola had been established only 57 years prior, its population had grown significantly. The plurality of the city’s population was Dinei and Indei, but it also possessed significant populations of Sosonis, Ashipes, Kutsans, and even Afro-Assinwatians and had grown to be a major urban center of the Dinei empire. As such, the Dinei saw it fit to defend their city and attacked the armed group, fighting them off. When word returned to Cahoqua, Mimia ordered a force of 50,000 troops to march on Dzilola. When they arrived in 1684, the Dinei were unable to muster a force of that size, and Dzilola was completely overrun. The Misian force pursued the Dinei into the Assinwatis as they tried to take over other mining colonies, but found that the Dinei were able to pick off Misian forces in the mountains quite easily. With their trade being disrupted, the French attempted to bring the Misians and the Dinei to the negotiating table. When the French Misia Company based in Kiawah sent their request to Cahoqua, Mimia responded by telling the French not to “interfere with matters involving the domain of the Great Kingdom” and told them to “focus more on civilizing your own nation on your own continent” (likely a reference to Mimia’s belief that all Europeans barring the Dutch were inferior to the Hileni). Eventually, the French convinced the Dinei to agree to give up Dzilola in exchange for a promise to allow the local Maasawists to continue living freely and that the Misians would not seek to take more territory in the mountains. In 1688, in the city of Dzilola, the Dinei formally signed over control of the city and other territory east of the mountains to the Kilsu, and keeping their agreement, the Kilsu largely maintained the existing population of the city primarily if nothing else in order to keep the city productive. Immediately after, Dinei Emperor Adriel invited Meshica Emperor Montezuma VII to meet him in Yenecami, where the two formally signed an anti-Kilsu alliance.

    Still, although the Great Kingdom’s borders stopped at the Assinwatis, the “Four Seas Doctrine” came to be near gospel in Misia. As the idea went, the Hileni people were meant to spread across the continent to touch four bodies of water– the Atlantic Ocean in the east, the South Misian and Caribbean Seas in the south, the Great Lakes to the north (although in some cases this was in reference to the Hudson Bay and Arctic Ocean), and the Pacific Ocean to the west. As Mimia’s published travelogs spread, some even considered it Misia’s destiny to control “five seas” by expanding Misia’s influence across the ocean, not unlike the European powers who were spreading their influence in the Americas. However, the Misians would first have to contend with one more major European power entering North American affairs.​
     
    Chapter 32: Salmon and Slaves
  • Chapter 32: Salmon and Slaves
    WTRF Haida Gwaii.png

    (Note: I plan to include a vignette where this note is at a later date)

    When studying the history of the Americas, perhaps one of the most overlooked regions is the Pacific Northwest of the North American continent. Its location far from the maritime powers of Europe as well as from the Misians meant that they were often regarded as peripheral. Indeed, its distant location made the Pacific Northwest one of the last regions on the continent where advanced civilizations would emerge. However, its location also meant that it had one of the richest pre-histories of any area on the continent.

    As shown by both greater genetic diversity and an extensive archaeological record, the ancestors of all Americans entered the vast supercontinent through a land bridge across what is now known as the Dezhnyov Strait, and the Pacific Northwest was one of the first stopping grounds. For thousands of years, despite the lack of agriculture, this region sustained a large population. Food was plentiful in the chilly albeit temperate and generally mild environment, and the seas and rivers provided plentiful populations of fish, which would make up a significant portion of the regional diet up to the modern day. Agriculture was uncommon, not being firmly established along the coast until around 500, thanks to the introduction of Manoomin grown along lakes to the east and the advent of seasonal cama and wapato cultivation in the Kalapuya valley, and remained incredibly small-scale for about a century. Much more prominent was aquaculture, in which fish were farmed in closed off lakes, ponds, and inlets. This seafood diet rich in protein meant that despite the lack of large-scale agriculture, the Northwesterners were typically quite well-fed. In Haidaguay, the average height is above 1.8 meters thanks in large part to the particularly protein-rich diet. Around the end of the Last Ice Age, the Pacific Northwest along with the rest of the West Coast made up the most densely populated regions of the continent.

    By the year 600, a well-established system of trade was established along the West Coast of North America stretching all the way from the north down to the Pericu lands. In the southern portion of this route, trade was dominated primarily by the Pericu due to their strategic location and seafaring capabilities, who were initially uninterested in the far northern forests. In the north, the presence of massive trees, plentiful fish, a jagged coastline, and limited agriculture north of the Wilamut Valley, a variety of peoples all built ships and went out to sea, trading and raiding each other. The Leshutsids, the Nuchanulth, the Kawaku, the Heilstuk, the Tsimshians, and the Tlingit, all fought both each other and amongst themselves to control these valuable trade roots.

    However, by the year 1000, the clear masters of the Northwest Coast were the Haida. With their homeland of Haidaguay being separated from the mainland by the large Haida Strait, they were nearly immune from outside raiders and were able to focus on both developing the home islands and improving their own seafaring capabilities. With the increasing importance of agriculture, the large northern island of Masst was able to support large inland settlements as well as coastal fishing villages. This was doubly so with the importation of mountain goats from the mainland, which were easy to maintain and due to the absence of large predators that the Haida had mostly wiped out and whose wool became considered a luxury product. With the increasing importance of seafaring, several major ports grew particularly powerful. In the south, around the Gaad inlet separating the northern island of Masst and the main southern island of Haanas, a number of towns vied for dominance of the natural harbor. This region became so populous that overcrowding led many to sail off and colonize other regions. In particular, it was a group of Haida raiders that raided and conquered Yelapu in the 12th Century, establishing a dynasty that ruled the city until its defeat in the Ohlone Wars. This can be seen in the Ohlone word duu meaning “seafaring ship” derived from the Haida word tluu meaning “boat”, or in the Ohlone word for slave being chimshen due to the large number of Tsimshian slaves sold in Dadacia.

    The largest population center, however, were the flat lands of Masst, where the most powerful city was the rapidly-growing Utewas on the northern shores of the island at the mouth of the Masst inlet, an important inlet with a number of settlements that provided access to the island’s interior. Gradually, Utewas conquered the entirety of the Masst plain, and in the year 1014, King Khuyah declared the establishment of the Kingdom of Masst. Khuyah’s dynasty would dominate the region, seeing both a domestic population increase as well as the colonization of nearby areas, coming into conflict with the Tlingit and Tsimshians in particular. In the year 1152, a Haida chronicle would tell of the great journey of Tajaw, the northern explorer who founded a Haida colony in Alaska named after himself before journeying west following an archipelago to another large landmass only to be turned back by hostile natives. Despite the stratified nature of Haida society, with a strong leadership class and a significant slave population, the potlach system found across the region in which the wealthy were expected to give away their riches as a status symbol meant that there was a strong social safety net and poverty was quite rare. The king of Masst would even invite foreign dignitaries to the island for potlaches where the riches being given away were very often the same ones stolen from them by Haida privateers.

    Another aspect of Haida culture that would set them apart from the rest of the Pacific Northwest was the adoption of Maasawism. The religion was not uncommon among the local population, but in 1386, King Gujaay adopted the faith, which he merged with the local Haida mythology, as the official religion of the kingdom. Much like Pericu Maasawism, Haida Maasawism was a highly unique sect highly removed from the original tradition that had emerged centuries prior among the Hopi. While Maasawists traditionally condemned raiding, the Haida justified their military actions as a way of pacifying their untrustworthy neighbors in order to achieve peace. The Haida also continued selling non-Maasawist mainlanders into slavery all along the West Coast. Additionally, while King Gujay made a year-long pilgrimage to Orayvi, he was utterly impressed by the concept of underground temples, and even the domed structures often built above them. According to the Haida rite, the proper way to connect with Maasaw and the Creator was through mountain-top shrines and wooden towers that soared among the totem poles.

    The wave of plague engulfing the entirety of the Americas hit Haidaguay in early 1507, seeing the population drop from a high point close to 300,000 down to less than 60,000. The kingdom, which had up until that point remained perhaps the most stable political entity in the entire hemisphere due to its geography, was faced with a succession crisis, with violence erupting throughout the small island. In response, Chief Skaay of Juskatla led an army of soldiers from the nearby towns of Gamadiis, Tlell, and Hlk’aay northward to the mouth of the inlet, where they marched on the royal compound of Utewas. With peace restored in 1515, King Skaay declared a campaign to bring the other towns of the archipelago under his reign. Decimated by plague, no settlement resisted. In exchange, the surviving leaders or elders of each town were invited to a potlach hosted by the king, in which he bestowed gifts upon them. In 1521, he declared the entire archipelago to be united as the Kingdom of Haidaguay, and was crowned in Daajing Giids before returning to rule from Utewas.

    Upon arriving back in his capital, King Skaay received a letter from Ketchikan, a Haida settlement on an island to the north closer to the mainland, stating that the colony had come under attack from Tlingit raiding parties. With the Haida now being united under a Maasawist kingdom, Skaay declared the start of the Dlaaya Wars, a series of crusades against the mainlanders allegedly attacking Haida colonies (even though a number of the mainland villages that were destroyed themselves had significant Maasawist populations). These on-and-off campaigns of expansion would last up to the arrival of Europeans in the region.​
     
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