Loyalty and Shame (Please Vote with Monthly Tickets!)

Before the Ore Washing Pool, all the miners fell silent.

The thunderous hoofbeats in the distance struck hard against every one of their hearts.

Makavsky glanced at the narrow mountain path behind them. It could only accommodate two or three people abreast, yet there were nearly two thousand miners and volunteers combined. It would take at least half an hour to get them all up the mountain.

The Austrian cavalry would not give them that chance.

He sighed, explained the situation to Major Ficot's interpreter, then said, "It seems we'll have to drive off those cavalrymen first."

Major Ficot frowned as he looked around at the exhausted, battered miners. "You need to rest. Retreat into the mountains first. I'll hold them here."

"How can we do that? You just saved—"

"Stop rambling. You have no fighting strength left right now." Ficot patted him, lowering his head. "Please believe me. This was not His Majesty the Emperor's decision. Please forgive him."

As he spoke, he waved to the volunteers and called out, "Form ranks! Quickly, three lines abreast—hold the mountain pass! The enemy may be here in ten minutes!"

Makavsky hesitated, but in the end gave him a solemn salute. He then ordered the uninjured men from the Patrol to stay and help, while everyone else immediately withdrew into Tarnowskie Góry.

Old Wicha roughly counted the volunteers and sighed. He took off the gray-green coat he had worn for only a month and stuffed it into his son's hands. "I told your mother Miroch the Tailor was charging too much and told her to return it, but she wouldn't listen.

"But this coat has come in handy after all. It should be very cold in the mountains soon. Put it on."

Young Wiecha took the coat in surprise. Just as he