The morning wind cut across the switchback ridge as Hajin stood watching the newly widened wagon road wind down into the basin.
No foreign bailiff or southern patrol could set foot upon this roadway without offering formal greetings to his sentries.
The mine entrance belonged entirely to the people who worked its shafts, protected by sovereign law and sharp valley steel.
"Marrick!"
"Coming, my lord!"
Marrick climbed the final rise, carrying two bound registers tucked beneath his arm and balancing a small cedar dispatch case.
"Wagons cleared?"
"The transport wagons from Lady Seliza's trading company cleared the western pass before sunrise," Marrick reported, catching his breath beside the milestone. "They delivered our scheduled mining stock on credit, exactly as specified in the bilateral exchange agreement."
"Any trouble at the gate?"
