27th April 1574
"Move all the injuries to one of the tents! Send someone on the fastest horse to the Sandomir to fetch some cyryls (cyrulik - kind of self-schooled herbalist of the age)!"
Giving out the orders one by one, I wanted to make sure that no one would remain idle, allowed to think about what happened. With the bodies of the unfortunate casualties of my own stupidity already dragged away from everyone's sight, I still had to make sure their families - if they had any - would receive proper compensation and care later on. Yet while dealing with the dead ones was easy, it was the injured that had to be reassured about their future.
After all, most of the work that was going around this place was focused on the menial activities alone. If any of them ended up unable to continue cutting the threes, hauling the ore or doing anything that he was designed to, they would think that their only way to earn money would be taken away from them by this accident!
