Kaiso accepted the clay jar but didn't leave. Instead, he asked for medicine for his chronic stomach pains. The young shaman let out an exasperated groan.
"Why didn't you say so earlier? Are you making trouble on purpose?"
She went to the medicine cabinet, grabbed some mint leaves, chopped them finely, mixed them with honey, simmered them, and handed him the finished concoction.
"Thank you, Shaman Nina."
Kaiso tucked away the medicine and signed his name at the end of her ledger.
Because the mine camp regularly produced injuries, he and the temple had agreed to settle all accounts once per month—far more efficient than calculating payment every visit.
With her work done, Nina had no interest in chatting. She returned to her desk and picked up her book.
Among the first graduating class of 849, Nina had the laziest temperament and had requested the most leisurely position possible—temple shaman. Unfortunately for her, the Stirling temple also handled all medical matters for the mining district, giving her a workload several times heavier than shamans in the other counties.
This summer, the second class of students would graduate. Nina stretched her back lazily and thought:
Maybe I should submit a request to be transferred to Orkney County.
Remote, coastal, sparsely populated… and blissfully easy.
Back on the north bank of the River Forth, Kaiso toured each workshop. Whenever he saw sloppy or unsafe work, he flew into a rage and deducted those workers' monthly beer ration.
Over the next few days, he began tightening discipline.
Unexpectedly, it was the mine itself—not the smelting camp—that showed improvement. The POWs had caused fewer disturbances lately, and ore extraction had actually increased.
"Impossible…"
Since last August, the duke had pardoned large numbers of peasants and slaves who had been forced into enemy armies. Those remaining were mostly nobles' retainers and estate stewards—much harder to handle. Their resistance was fierce, and feigned obedience, sabotage, and escape attempts were routine.
If they're suddenly being obedient… they're definitely plotting something.
As the sun dipped toward the mountains, Kaiso felt a renewed sense of urgency. He stormed into the mess hall, picked out fifty of the most reliable workers, and ordered them to retrieve round shields and iron axes from storage.
Once assembled, he sent a runner to Stirling across the river.
"Find the county governor and the sheriff! Tell them we need reinforcements immediately!"
Then he marched the armed workers toward the mine. The sun vanished behind the ridges. Night fell. A cold wind whistled through collars, and the forest echoed with distant animal cries. Moonlight broke through shifting clouds, stretching their shadows across the ground—like wandering spirits drifting through a wilderness.
Following the ruts carved by the heavy wagons, the group reached the mining camp two hours later.
A small palisaded compound sat at the mountain's base: barracks, storerooms, stables, and a well—enough to house two hundred and fifty people: two hundred POWs, thirty ordinary workers, and twenty overseers.
A shout rang down from the watchtower.
"Who goes there?!"
"It's me!"
Kaiso grabbed a torch, illuminating his own face and those around him.
"All from the smelting works—no outsiders. Open the gate!"
Once inside, he roused all workers and overseers, arming them as well.
By now he had formed a force of roughly one hundred. Some guarded the palisade while the rest forced the POWs to assemble in the open yard.
"Search their barracks! Every corner!"
His fears were soon confirmed. Workers emerged with confiscated contraband: sharpened iron shards, half-hand-length nails, and stolen salt pork and black bread—clear evidence of preparations for a mass escape.
Lowering his head, Kaiso examined the terrified, angry faces and singled out the most suspicious ringleaders. Overseers dragged them off for separate interrogation.
Some time later, a warning shout echoed from the watchtower:
A large group was approaching rapidly from the south.
Kaiso climbed the ladder. In the darkness, dozens of torchlights flickered, soon arriving at the palisade.
After confirming their identity, he ordered the gate opened. In strode Viper, the sheriff of Stirling County, along with two companies of mountain infantry.
The moment he saw Kaiso, Viper's face was like stormclouds.
"When your message arrived, the entire town of Stirling went into chaos. The county governor, the magistrate, the temple shamans, the tax collectors—not one of them will sleep tonight. You'd better have found something real, or half the town will be writing complaints to Tyne Town."
Kaiso pointed at the pile of seized items.
"The POWs were secretly collecting these sharp iron pieces, nails, and food. They planned to riot in two days. At that time a rebel band from the northern mountains was supposed to rendezvous with them."
"Rebels, huh?"
Viper knelt and sifted through the heap.
"How many?"
"Ten interviewed—none knew specifics. Estimates range from fifty to five hundred."
"That's it?" Viper snorted. He didn't bother arguing with amateurs. He ordered his men to take over the prisoners. The interrogations lasted until dawn.
"Wake up."
The sheriff shoved the dozing Kaiso.
"It's clear now. The bandits number roughly a hundred. They wintered in a valley several dozen miles north. I'm heading out to wipe them now. You stay here and keep order."
Before Kaiso could protest, Viper marched out with three hundred infantry, vanishing into the forested dark.
Two days later, the force returned—escorting twenty-five captured rebels.
Kaiso asked, "So you won?"
"More or less," Viper replied as he pulled off his sweaty helmet.
"Killed ten. Caught twenty-five slow ones. The rest abandoned their camp and fled deeper into the mountains. Won't be back anytime soon."
As the mountain infantry's mastery of the mandarin-duck formation improved, their casualty ratio reached eight to one in their Favel. Fewer rebels dared stand and fight; most ran at the first sign of disadvantage, much to Viper's frustration.
"They're quicker than rabbits. I'll need another method."
With the operation over, Viper returned to Stirling. Before leaving, he advised that all two hundred POWs be relocated to the smelting camp on the riverbank—easier to reinforce if trouble arose again.
Kaiso hesitated. If the POWs lived by the river, they would have to walk to the mine in the morning and return in the evening—four hours wasted daily. Production would plummet.
"Unless… the travel time can be shortened. Horse-drawn wagons? No—that many POWs would require too many wagons."
Without realizing it, his mind drifted again to the duke's unusual idea—
a mining railway, wooden rails laid on the ground to guide ore carts.
Given the circumstances, Kaiso had no choice left but to try.
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