Chapter 124: Mining Area
Chapter 124: Mining Area
Ch 124: Mining Area
Taking the earthenware pot, Kesso still did not leave, requesting treatment for his stomach ailment, causing the Female Shaman to complain repeatedly:
“Why didn’t you say so earlier? Are you deliberately picking a fight?”
She walked to the medicine cabinet, took some mint leaves, chopped them up, mixed them with honey and simmered them, giving the finished product to him.
“Thank you for your help, Nina Shaman.” Kesso put away the medicine and signed his name at the back of the booklet with a quill pen.
Because the mining area frequently had wounded people needing treatment, he reached an agreement with the temple to settle accounts once at the end of the month, so as not to have to calculate the cost each time.
Work finished, Nina was too lazy to talk to these people, returning to the back of her desk to read a book.
Among the first graduating class of students in 849, she had the laziest attitude, proactively applying for the most leisurely position of temple shaman. Unfortunately, the Stirling Temple needed to undertake the medical work of the mining area, the workload far exceeding the other three counties.
This summer, the second batch of students should also graduate, Nina stretched out her long waist, thinking to herself secretly:
“Perhaps I should write a report to the higher-ups, requesting a transfer to Orkney County, which is located in the coastal region at the northern end of Britain, with a small population and the easiest work.” Returning to the North Bank of the River Forth, Kesso inspected the production status of various workshops, and thundered at the irregular operations of some workers, deducting their monthly beer allowance.
In the following days, Kesso began to rectify the situation.
Unexpectedly, compared to the ironworks, the situation in the northern mine was much better; recently, the number of incidents caused by prisoners of war has dropped significantly, while the ore extraction has steadily increased.
“Impossible!”
Since August of last year, the Duke has successively pardoned a large number of coerced peasants and slaves. The remaining prisoners of war mainly come from the noble and gentry classes, and their retainers; these people have a firm will to resist, and are habitually negatively idle, and occasionally secretly flee.
“I estimate that these people are secretly plotting a great conspiracy, appearing honest and obedient on the surface, waiting for us to relax our vigilance before suddenly attacking.”
Kesso looked out at the setting sun gradually sinking, a sense of urgency suddenly arising in his heart. He strode into the dining hall, picked out fifty honest and reliable workers, and ordered them to go to the storehouse to collect round shields and iron axes.
After assembling, Kesso sent someone to Stirling on the South Bank of the River Forth, “Find the Earl and Constable, and ask them to send reinforcements as soon as possible!”
Having said that, Kesso led this team of workers to the mining area. Before long, the sun completely set behind the mountains, nightfall descended, the cold wind whistled into their collars, the sounds of birds and beasts faintly echoed in the mountains, the moonlight pierced through the cloud layer, stretching their figures into long lines, like a group of wandering spirits walking in the wilderness.
Following the wheel tracks made by the heavy wagons, the group took two hours to reach the edge of the mine.
At the foot of the mountain, a small open space was enclosed by fortifications; inside were barracks, warehouses, stables, and a well, housing two hundred and fifty people, including two hundred prisoners of war, thirty ordinary workers, and twenty foremen.
Noticing dozens of fully armed figures arriving, a shout rang out from the top of the watchtower: “Who’s there!”
“It’s me!”
Kesso snatched the torch from his subordinate’s hand, illuminating his own face and those around him, “All brothers from the ironworks, no outsiders, open the gate quickly.”
Entering the camp, Kesso woke up all the workers and foremen, and had them also equip themselves with weapons.
By this time, he had temporarily mustered a force of one hundred people, sending a small part to guard the fortifications, and ordering the remaining workers to assemble the prisoners of war in the open space.
“Search their barracks, don’t miss a single corner!”
Soon, Kesso’s worries were confirmed; workers successively searched out various contraband from the barracks, including sharpened iron plates, iron nails half a palm long, and salt pork and black bread stolen from the kitchen, clearly prepared for a large-scale escape.
He lowered his head, scanning the terrified and angry faces one by one, picking out several of the most obvious troublemakers, and having the foremen interrogate them individually.
After an unknown amount of time, the watchtower sounded the alarm; a large number of figures were rapidly approaching from the south.
Kesso climbed up the wooden ladder to the watchtower, and saw many figures holding torches appear in the darkness, soon reaching the outer edge of the fortifications.
After verifying their identities, he ordered his men to open the gate, allowing Constable Viper and two mountain infantry companies to enter the camp.
As soon as they met, Baron Viper said with a gloomy face:
“Received your message, the whole Stirling Town is in chaos, the Earl, Judge, Temple Shaman, and tax collector probably won’t be sleeping well tonight. You’d better find out something, otherwise many people will write letters of impeachment to Tyne.”
Kesso pointed to a pile of miscellaneous objects in the open space, “The prisoners of war secretly collected these sharp iron plates, iron nails, and grain, planning to launch a riot in two days, at which time a rebel army will arrive from the deep mountains in the north to assist them.”
Rebel army?
The Constable half-squatted on the ground, reaching out to fiddle with the iron plates and nails in the pile of miscellaneous objects, “How many people are in the rebel army?”
“I asked a dozen or so people, and they all said they didn’t know, roughly more than fifty, but less than five hundred.”
“That’s it?” The Constable shook his head, too lazy to waste words with this layman, ordering his subordinates to take over the prisoners, the interrogation continuing until the next morning.
“Wake up!”
The Constable pushed Kesso, who was dozing off, awake, “It’s been found out, this rebel army is roughly one hundred strong, hiding in a valley dozens of miles away for the winter. I’m leading a team to purge them now, you stay here and watch the camp.”
Before the other could refute, the Constable led three hundred infantry away from the camp, quickly disappearing from Kesso’s sight.
Two days later, the extermination force returned safely, escorting twenty-five prisoners with ashen faces.
Kesso: “Did you win?”
“Barely.” The Constable took off his hot helmet, “Killed ten, captured twenty-five who were slow on their feet, the rest abandoned the camp and escaped into the deep mountains, they won’t be coming back for a while.”
As time went on, the cooperation of the Mandarin Duck Formation members became more and more proficient, the exchange ratio between the enemy and ourselves reaching eight to one. The later it got, the more timid the remaining rebels became, choosing to run away at the slightest disadvantage, which greatly angered the Constable.
“These people are even more cunning than rabbits, it seems I need to find another method.”
The purge operation ended, and the Constable led his troops back to Stirling Town. Before leaving, he suggested moving the two hundred prisoners of war to the ironworks on the North Bank of the River Forth, so that reinforcements would be readily available if anything happened.
To this, Kesso had reservations. Assuming the prisoners of war lived in the ironworks, going to the mine in the morning and returning to the camp in the evening, it would take four hours of walking time, and the production quota would inevitably decrease.
“Unless we can shorten the travel time. Equip wagons? No, two hundred prisoners of war would require too many wagons.”
Unknowingly, Kesso once again recalled the mine track mentioned by the Duke; forced by circumstances, he could only grit his teeth and try.
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