Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 262 Salt and Iron
For safety's sake, Winters should not have any face-to-face contact with any enemies. But the White Mountain County messenger's status is special, and Winters has to make an exception—Bald Gaesar sent one of Winters's direct subordinates, Baratz Yusas.

The last time the two met was at the senior's awarding ceremony. Time flies, and three years have passed in the blink of an eye.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the senior student got straight to the point: "Colonel Gaisa wants his horse back."

“No,” Winters replied curtly.

"You probably don't know," the senior student sighed helplessly, "My principal... also really likes money."

"Also?" Winters caught a hint of regional discrimination in his eyes.

“Nobody dislikes money, so I’m not here to ask you for it for nothing.” The senior student brushed it off lightly, and solemnly told Winters, “Colonel Gaisa can exchange the horse you have for supplies—if you agree.”

"A secret agreement?" Winters' mind raced.

"Of course it's a secret."

"What can we exchange it for?"

"What do you want?" the senior student asked in return.

"What do you have?" Winters retorted verbatim.

The two sides could not trust each other, and the talks reached a stalemate for a time.

"Alright. Let's stop testing each other." The senior student said readily, "To tell you the truth, Baishan County will not trade you military supplies such as food, weapons, and ammunition for horses. But we have something that you desperately need."

Winters remained noncommittal.

Seeing that Winters didn't react, the senior student stopped beating around the bush: "It's nothing but salt. People can live without horses, but they'll die without salt. Without enough salt, you won't be able to raise these horses properly."

Baishan County will continue to blockade the Anya River, and Tiefeng County will not receive any salt supplies through normal channels. However, we can supply you with salt separately. With salt, you can use it as hard currency in Tiefeng County.

Winters was surprised, but he didn't show it: "What else?"

"If you want anything else, we can discuss it further. If you want money, that's not out of the question either."

“The New Reclamation Legion’s horse ranch,” Winters said with a light laugh. “The Legion hasn’t come to me for it yet, but Colonel Gaisa is getting impatient.”

Senior Balazs did not respond.

"Let me think about it." Winters stood up to take his leave. "You can stay in Gevordan for a few days."

"Is Lieutenant Worthington still alive?" the senior student suddenly asked.

Worthington was the White Mountain County officer who led a hundred-man squad in pursuit of Winters but was captured instead.

Winters answered truthfully: "He's alive and well, don't worry."

……

After leaving his senior, Baratz, Winters went straight to his residence—a row house for single officers.

At Catherine's gasp, Winters barged into Anna's bedroom.

The first thing Winters asked upon meeting was, "Are you out of salt at home?"

"Huh?" Anna, who was taking a nap, was woken up and was still in a daze. After vaguely recognizing the person by her bedside, Anna happily stretched out her arms: "You're back!"

At this moment, Anna was as cute as a kitten that hadn't been weaned yet. The contrast with her usual calm and reserved demeanor was so strong that it would arouse anyone's desire to protect her.

Winters couldn't help but pick up the kitten and ask again, "Are you sure you're out of salt?"

"I don't know," Anna said, leaning on Winters' shoulder and gently rubbing her eyes. "You haven't even told me you miss me yet."

Catherine saw this scene at the door and turned away in embarrassment.

The matter still needed to be addressed by the relevant people, so Winters summoned the cook from the officers' quarters and asked directly, "Is there any salt left in the kitchen?"

"Yes, sir," the cook, a very robust woman, replied woodenly, "there are still several jars left."

"Is salt still available in the market?" Winters pressed. "And what about the price?"

"You can still buy them, but the price keeps going up." The cook was quite strong, with a round face, broad shoulders, and a thick waist, but her voice grew softer as she spoke.

Anna quietly touched Winters' boots.

As if on cue, Winters smiled as much as he could and asked, "When did it start to rise? How much has it risen so far?"

"The price only went up recently." The employer's expression suddenly changed, leaving the cook somewhat bewildered: "I don't know exactly how much it went up... I bought several cans in advance."

Anna didn't get any more useful information from the questioning, so she opened the jewelry box, took out a silver ring to thank the cook, who left happily.

Winters' mood sank. He rested his forehead on his hand, his brow furrowing involuntarily. "I still have to go out and see for myself."

"What's wrong?" Anna asked, taking Winters' hand.

Winters then told Anna about White Mountain County and the salt.

"No salt? I...I didn't know." Anna was also surprised. She said seriously, "We should definitely go out and ask the people who buy and sell salt."

“I’ll go right now.” Winters grabbed his coat and sword.

“Salt is a huge business, I don’t know much about it.” As Anna saw Winters off, she hesitantly reminded her lover, “But if everyone is afraid of price increases and shortages and rushes to buy salt, all the salt in the shops will be sold out.”

“I know how serious it is. Don’t worry, there will be a way.” Winters gently squeezed his lover’s hand and left.

……

Later that day, Winters met with Mason, Andre, and Moritz in the meeting room at the garrison.

Bard is away settling refugees, and Don Juan is out hunting and hasn't returned yet, so the [Resolution Council] is now down to just the four of them.

Winters informed his companions of the White Mountain County proposal.

"Threatening us?" Andrei roared in fury. "It's better if he doesn't sell! He can gather his troops during the winter break and cross the Anya River! I want to see what that bald guy is capable of!"

“Robbing is one way, just keep it as a record,” Winters said with a smile. “Actually, the most interesting thing is that White Mountain County is willing to ‘exchange’ rather than trading salt for horses.”

It seems the New Reclamation Corps itself isn't a monolithic entity. Presumably due to General Adams's fickle stance, the various counties are becoming somewhat disaffected by him.

Moritz glanced casually at Winters, only to find that Winters was also looking at him.

Winters spread his hands, explaining helplessly to the old commander, "If there's really no other way, we can only rob... like the Hed tribe."

“I’m just a little curious.” Moritz chuckled. “Ignore me, just get down to business.”

Before the meeting, Winters first approached old Priskin, who then convened a survey of the Zhevodan salt merchants, giving him a general understanding of the salt situation.
Tiefeng County does not produce salt; it relies entirely on purchasing salt from the neighboring Baishan County. Although the two counties are separated only by the Anya River, their natural endowments are vastly different.

Tiefeng County only has what farmers call "salt land". The soil of salt land is not good, it can neither grow crops nor make salt, its greatest use is that during the off-season, people can take their livestock there to "lick the land".

Baishan County possesses superior salt wells, and the well salt produced in Lushui Town supplies the entire newly reclaimed province. Salt is known as white gold, and Baishan is thus the mountain of white gold.

After a brief explanation, Winters concluded, "White Mountain County is indeed blatantly threatening us."

“Not only that,” Mason, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up: “The newly reclaimed lands are a military-controlled province, and salt is also under military control. Salt merchants have to pay taxes to Maplestone City before they can buy salt in Brine Town. It’s actually a disguised poll tax.”

"Can't we buy salt from outside?" Andrei asked anxiously.

“The Legion forbids outside salt from entering the newly reclaimed land.” Mason sighed deeply. “There were many salt smugglers in the labor ranches I used to manage, and the lightest sentence was losing an arm—salt is not just salt, it is also the Legion’s money bag.”

"Then we should fucking beat him up even more!" Andrei slammed his fist on the table, glaring at Winters. "Let's do it! Let's go all the way and take down White Mountain County too!"

Mason sighed again: "No."

"Why not?" Andrei glared at his senior again.

“There’s no food.” Mason opened his notebook, his face full of worry. “Most of the granaries in Jervodan have been given to Bard to resettle refugees. The remaining reserves in the granaries—according to my calculations—are not enough to last until next summer’s harvest.”

Andrei stood there, stunned.

Mason asked Andrei, "Do you know what 'the time of year' means?"

Andrei shook his head.

"It's okay." Mason patted his junior on the shoulder. "You'll see in a few months."

“Didn’t they say before that maintaining a ‘minimum food supply’ would last until next year’s food supply?” Winters was also somewhat surprised: “How come it’s not enough again?”

Senior Mason answered slowly and deliberately, "It was barely enough before, but it won't be enough if we add another 1,300 mouths."

Winters instantly realized—they were prisoners, prisoners from Vaughan County.

……

The underlying logic of agriculture is very simple—you can only reap what you sow.

Although there is no statistical data to support this, Winters was confident that the mass exodus of hired laborers and tenant farmers had led to a sharp drop in the total grain output of newly reclaimed land.

The current situation is still manageable for three reasons: first, the self-cultivating farmers generally still hold onto their land; second, the estates mainly focus on growing cash crops; and third, the grain stored from the previous quarter has not yet been used up.

Continue along this road, and the great famine awaits not far ahead. The famine will further exacerbate the turmoil, at which point even the self-sufficient farmers will have to flee, and then there will be an even greater famine... so dark that not a ray of light can be seen.

Driven by the simple idea of ​​"finding a way for everyone to make a living," Winters wanted to get the displaced people back into agricultural production.

However, the mad bull has already broken free of its cage and is rampaging and trampling the earth. It's not so easy to put it back in.
By abandoning the refugees, Winters only needed to feed the 1,500 soldiers and their families, which was more than enough with the granaries of Ghevordan. But he decided to go big.

So from the moment he decided to take on more responsibility, the new government's finances were racing toward bankruptcy.

Winters had to tighten his belt to make ends meet.

The entire army, regardless of rank, received food rations based on a fixed per capita quota. With limited rations, even those with small appetites could only eat until they were about 60% full. As for the refugee camps, the per capita food rations were even lower.

Everyone was in a state of semi-starvation. The refugees and soldiers not only had to cultivate the land and sow seeds, but also had to find ways to get food: digging for wild vegetables, picking wild fruits, fishing, hunting...

Therefore, Don Juan would go hunting and disappear for days at a time. Winters also never went home for meals, always staying at the camp to cook with his men.

The only good news is that Winters has become completely numb. Before, when he woke up to find only thirty-odd people eating, drinking, and defecating, he was worried every day; now, when he wakes up to find over twenty thousand people eating, drinking, and defecating, he feels nothing at all.

According to Mason's estimate, by slowing down the rate of consumption, the existing storage should be able to last until next summer's harvest. Once the summer grain is harvested, the situation will improve significantly.

Only when the new government actually collects grain taxes can this small, poor but tenacious regime be considered to be on the right track.

But plans never keep up with changes. Senior Juan won a great victory, which he thoroughly enjoyed, but unknowingly, he also created more than a thousand small breaches beneath the grain depot.

The prisoners were also human beings, and they were all adult men who could eat and drink.

There isn't enough food.

……

The atmosphere in the meeting room immediately became somber, and even Moritz's brows unconsciously furrowed with worry.

"Why are you all so serious?" Winters laughed heartily. "We're pushing the waves back against the tsunami. It's normal to have difficulties; it would be abnormal if there weren't. It's precisely because it's difficult that the rewards are great! Once the harvest is next year, all the current difficulties will be easily resolved."

Winters grinned broadly. "Don't frown. If we're always frowning and looking gloomy, what will the soldiers think? They'll only worry more. So smile, don't frown." Mason sighed helplessly, then smiled again.

Andrei was both amused and exasperated: "Stop laughing, your smile is scarier than your frown."

“That’s true, but the food shortage problem still needs to be solved, and there’s also the salt issue,” Mason said seriously. “Otherwise, when the lean season really comes, we’ll have to beg.”

"How to solve it? That's obvious, isn't it?" Andrei grinned, "Rob it!"

Moritz coughed violently and pounded his chest.

"Don't take me lightly! I've thought it through carefully!" Andrei said, feeling extremely aggrieved. "As long as you're willing to rob, any problem can be solved. And how much faster is it to rob? You painstakingly save up and save up... and in the end, you only have a little over two hundred horses. But robbing? You can rob over a thousand in one go! Isn't that easier and more enjoyable than digging in the soil and planting crops?"

“That’s right, you’re absolutely right!” Winters was already quite adept at smoothing down the wild horse’s fur: “I’ll write that down now—a backup plan.”

Andrei sat down angrily.

Mason fiddled with his quill pen and pondered, "There are only two paths to dealing with food: increase supply or cut costs. Cutting costs is impossible; if we cut costs any further, everyone will starve."

“We can still cut costs.” Winters made up his mind and hardened his heart: “After the autumn planting is over, we will cull all the prisoners in Vaughan County. Release all the prisoners who are too old, too young, or too weak, and let the New Reclamation Legion have a headache.”

"Let them go?" Andrei's eyes widened. "I think we should just kill them all! They know our inside story! If you let them go now, they'll come back with weapons to fight us next year!"

"There are advantages and disadvantages. If we kill them all, the enemies coming next year will be even more desperate. Let's give each of them some travel expenses and let them go."

"You want to pay for travel expenses too?" Andrei chuckled.

“Release the prisoners, it might not be a good thing for them. Vaughan County is still short of food, and the old, weak, sick and disabled might starve to death even if they go back.” Winters sighed. “I suggest we vote on this.”

Andrei was getting impatient: "Vote? Why make it so complicated? If you say you want to release it, would I object? Just release it then."

But Winters insisted on a show of hands to vote.

The final result: Mystery Man B abstained, while Winters, Andre, and Mason all agreed. The matter was thus settled.

“As for open source,” Winters said thoughtfully, “hunting and fishing are things that all the military villages and farms are doing. Winter is coming, and there’s not much to gather. In the end, we still have to buy food.”

"Where can I buy it?" Mason asked, puzzled.

“Buy from the farmers. Buy first in Iron Peak County, then in Vaughan County.” Winters tapped the table lightly. “Samukin did a good job.”

Winters recounted in detail how Samukin organized prisoners to work and exchange the shoes and baskets they produced for food in various villages.

Do the herdsmen in Tiefeng County have any grain on hand?
Have!
With the autumn harvest just over, how could there be no food?
The more fiercely the old garrison was exploited, the more diligently the farmers hid their grain. Those who hadn't hidden well had already fled their homes, leaving only those farmers with grain in their hands.

Winters was unwilling to resort to forced requisition, nor did he want to. Over the past year, the "hide-and-seek" between the requisition team and the farmers had pushed the cost of requisition to an unprecedented level.

This fall, many independent farmers even stopped cultivating their existing land and instead ventured into unregistered, barren gullies to clear land—they had been driven to the brink of panic. Even when Winters issued a public statement promising not to requisition grain, the farmers remained unconvinced.

If forced requisition is not an option, then exchange is the only recourse. Farmers need to exchange many things, and they are happy to do so.

“Salt and iron,” Winters said heavily. “Farmers can’t produce these two things, so they want them most.”

"Salt?" Andrei's eyes widened. "You're going to return the horse?"

"Of course not!" Winters laughed heartily. "Once it's in my pocket, how could I possibly return it to him? He's dreaming! Trading horses for salt is like drinking poison to quench his thirst. He thinks I'm desperate, but I'll make sure he carves a way out!"

"What should I do?"

"Without salt, the focus must be on iron."

"Tiefeng Mine?"

“That’s right!” Winters looked at Mason, his eyes blazing. “Senior, the sooner the better. Let’s start smelting iron tomorrow. Whether it works or not, let’s strike the first blow first!”

“No problem, I’ll go prepare right away.” Mason had been listening quietly to the conversation between his two juniors, but he couldn’t help but remind them, “But have you thought about how to solve the salt problem? Iron Peak County doesn’t produce salt after all.”

Winters made a surprising statement, saying casually, "Actually, I'm not really worried about the salt issue. I had already taken care of it before I contacted you."

Mason, Andre, and Moritz all looked at Winters, their expressions bewildered.

“I had a chat with the little lion.” Winters didn’t keep them in suspense: “Andre, senior, do you remember the rock salt that the cattle and sheep licked on the west bank of the River Styx?”

Last year, when the Plato expeditionary force had just crossed the River Styx, the Plato shepherds hurriedly drove their flocks to the west bank of the Styx because there was rock salt there.

Winters fiddled with his knife, looking refreshed, and said, "When I spoke with the salt merchants of Thervodan, they told me that in addition to buying military salt from White Mountain County, there used to be a route for smuggling rock salt from Heard Moor."

Caravans would travel to the wilderness to trade goods and then return laden with salt. Later, Plato's army ruthlessly blockaded the tribes of Hart, thus cutting off this route.

Thanks to Mayor Priestin's help, the salt merchant would never have told Winters these secrets.

“Smiling really does work,” Winters concluded, forcing a smile. “You have to smile more.”

"Rock salt?" Andrei was stunned. "Cattle and sheep can lick it. Can people eat it?"

“The Hed people eat rock salt, that’s what the little lion said,” Winters said matter-of-factly. “If the Hed people can eat it, then we can too. Salt bricks are even a kind of ‘currency’ among the Hed tribes.”

Andrei breathed a long sigh of relief; he was fine with anything as long as he didn't hand over the horse.

"The Red River Tribe is giving us rock salt for free?" Mason narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Of course not.” Winters sighed, giving a helpless, bitter smile. “We’ll trade iron for it.”

Mason's expression turned serious, and he asked in a low voice, "Isn't that like putting iron teeth in a lion? The Hurds aren't on our side. They've occupied Iron Peak Mountain for decades, how could they not know about the Iron Peak Mine? But did the little lion mention it to you?"

“I understand, senior. Two cups of poisoned wine are placed in front of you. One cup will kill you instantly, the other will kill you slowly.” Winters shook his head slightly: “You have to drink the slow one. Only by living will you have a chance.”

Mason couldn't help but sigh heavily: "Yes, only by surviving can we have a chance."

“Actually, the old blacksmith Mr. Portan has a good idea,” Winters said somewhat embarrassedly. “He said that the iron from the Iron Peak Mine is of poor quality and brittle, making it difficult to forge weapons, but it’s perfect for casting iron pots. There’s no need to sell steel to the Heds; selling pots will suffice.”

"The Red River Tribe would agree?" Mason chuckled.

“Let’s talk business.” Winters spread his hands and said with a smile, “They won’t sell us their rock salt, and no one else will buy it. We don’t even have steel, so where are we going to get steel for the Red River Tribe? This stuff, take it or leave it. If we can’t do business, we can just go and rob White Mountain County.”

"We should just go and rob them!" Andrei suddenly became interested.

"Did you talk to the little lion about it?" Mason asked Winters. "About the pot."

"Before we even said anything, they said they'd trade iron for it. He was quite happy about it anyway." Winters sighed. "In the end, we still need to smelt iron. If we don't have iron, we'll really have to change our name to Iron Peak Tribe, paint our faces, and go to White Mountain County to raid the bald guy for grain."

Mason sighed, "Yes, in the end, you still need a pillar industry."

"It's alright, don't worry." Winters smiled. "Isn't it much better now than when we only had five or six towns? There's nothing to worry about."

With the issues of salt and iron resolved, the meeting should have adjourned, but Winters wouldn't let Andrei and Moritz leave, insisting on continuing the meeting.

"Didn't you used to hate meetings the most?" Andre couldn't help but ask Winters.

“Hold on a little longer.” Winters adopted a solemn tone: “I think… this salt issue has exposed two problems that must be addressed.”

"What's the problem?" Andrei interrupted, "The problem is there's no salt?"

“The first problem,” Winters said, enunciating each word clearly, “Iron Peak County is currently unable to survive independently without the outside world, and we have to purchase many things from outside. The New Reclamation Legion has already blockaded us, but it has only been a short time and has not yet shown its full power.”

Mason sat bolt upright, his expression turning serious. He had thought Winters just wanted to chat, but he hadn't expected them to bring this up. Andrei stopped insisting on leaving. Even Moritz opened his eyes, listening curiously.

"For all the supplies needed by Tiefeng County, if they can be produced domestically, we should find a way to produce them ourselves. If they cannot be produced domestically, then we should resort to trade, smuggling, and robbery."

“A living person can’t die from holding in their pee.” Andrei clicked his tongue and said, “It’s nothing more than that.”

“The second problem,” Winters gently stroked the blade, “is that our military government doesn’t know what the people need. Salt prices are rising, but I only noticed it when the enemy pointed it out. This shows that our eyes and ears are blocked. We have to open them, otherwise even if we solve the salt problem, other problems will arise.”

"How do I open it?" Mason asked.

“I have a rough idea—to gather the merchants of Thevordan and the farmers of the various towns and listen to their needs. In the past, when the lord was particularly debauched, the people would petition for a grievance meeting, and we can do that too.” Winters said with a smile, “How about calling it a consultation meeting instead of a grievance meeting?”

"Isn't that the county council?"

“No, the county council has the power. But I don’t want to devolve that power right now. Let’s vote.”

As usual, one abstention and three votes passed.

“It’s not just about listening to what the people have to say,” Winters stroked his chin. “We also need to tell them what we want to say. Andrei, do you remember the gazette from Deer Horn Town?”

“Isn’t the horse farm something I saw in the official gazette?” Andrei replied.

“I’d like to start a gazette in Revodan as well… It doesn’t have to be called a gazette, just a regular announcement that’s posted in all the villages and towns. There’s a group of information brokers in Hailan who specialize in selling handwritten copies of the [Hailan Gazette]. We can just copy what they do.”

Winters laughed heartily: "Not only do we need to win, but we also need to let more people know about our victory. We need to let them know that we are fighting for their interests."

Andrei waved his hand in a panic: "Whatever, just don't make me write it, whatever you want."

“Senior.” Winters grasped Mason’s hand firmly. “I know you are the most reliable person.”

Mason calmly withdrew his hand: "I don't know anything about literature either..."

"Lieutenant Colonel?"

Moritz was already asleep.

"All of you?!" Winters slammed his fist on the table, furious. "I'm going to find Bard!"

“Bard has enough on his plate, and he’s so far away, he can’t possibly take care of Gervodan.” Mason patted Winters on the shoulder: “You should handle it yourself.”

……

The little lion quickly received an offer from Winters.

"Little Lion, does your brother want an iron pot?" Winters excitedly grabbed Little Lion's hand: "I'll pay extra and get you an iron stove too!"

……

Baratz Yusas, a senior student from White Mountain County, also quickly received a reply from Winters.

Winters, clutching a saddle, told his senior with heartbreaking grief, "You're right, without salt, it's really hard to raise horses. So I reluctantly ordered all the horses to be slaughtered. Take this saddle back and give it to... oh no, to Colonel Gaisa as a keepsake."

……

A day later, the bald man who had been anxiously waiting on the east bank of the Anya River finally saw the returning messenger.

"How's my horse?" Colonel Gaisa asked Balazs impatiently. "Did he agree?"

Baratz took out a saddle, both amused and exasperated: "That little guy just kept talking nonsense and wouldn't agree."

“I tried to reason with him and exchange it, but he wouldn’t agree.” Gaisa was furious. “Is he trying to force me to steal it?”

“Not exactly.” Baratz clicked his tongue. “The little guy asked if you had anything else you wanted to exchange for: tobacco, beets, sesame oil. Stock is limited, but bulk orders get a discount.”

Balázs concluded by adding, "A secret agreement."

[Thank you to all readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments.]
[This chapter is a bit long, sorry. It mainly focuses on clarifying Winters' next move. As someone who frequently uses flashbacks, I instinctively wanted to do it again. However, with a daily update schedule, it's probably better to sort things out first.]
[Winters was actually imitating the story of Octavian and Caesar.]
[In 59 BC, Caesar ordered the daily publication of the minutes of the Senate and the Assembly, written with a fine pen on a white plasterboard outside the Roman Colosseum, as an official gazette. It was then called ALBUM, later known as the "Daily Gazette."]
As the mouthpiece of the government, the *Daily Chronicle* primarily covered important government affairs and was highly political. In 6 BC, Octavian revived the *Daily Chronicle*, which evolved to include imperial politics, war news, deliberations, civil and criminal cases, and religious activities. In addition to being published as a proclamation in Rome, copies were sent to important political figures and military commanders throughout the country. It was published intermittently for over three hundred years until the Roman Empire moved its capital to Constantinople in 330 AD.
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(End of this chapter)