Chapter 82: The Law of the Cauldron
The sun began to sink behind the snow-capped peaks, painting the sky in shades of deep copper. The evening chill turned biting, yet the villagers worked on the foundations and timber cutting without rest. Though exhausted, their eyes drifted toward the piles of fresh fish and meat stacked in the central yard. Not a single person dared to touch a piece without the new shaman’s permission.
Kellar observed the scene for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before turning to Krag.
"Gather everyone," said Kellar. "How careless of me. It’s late, and we need to prepare food for the entire village."
Krag nodded and issued the command. Horns echoed across the settlement, and within minutes hundreds of men, women, and children assembled in the central yard, shivering in the freezing wind with their eyes fixed on the supplies.
Kellar stepped into the center of the yard, accompanied by three women who stood at his side.
"Listen carefully," said Kellar, his voice ringing over the crowd. "This is my aunt Maya, this is my woman Mila, and this is my mother-in-law Meli."
The three women stepped forward with their heads held high before the attentive gaze of the tribe.
"From today onward, the three of them will be in charge of the village kitchen," said Kellar. "No one will need cook in their huts. A large collective meal will be prepared in the morning before work, and another hot meal will be served in the evening when you return from your duties."
A murmur of astonishment rippled through the crowd. Under the old tribal system, every family had to fight for their own food, and the weakest often went to sleep on an empty stomach.
"You may eat more than once if you are still hungry," said Kellar, raising his voice. "However, mark my words carefully, I will not tolerate waste. If anyone is caught throwing food into the snow, they will be whipped. If you ask for a second portion and leave it to rot, the first offense will cost you three days without food. The second offense will cost you seven days. And there will not be a third time."
Absolute silence fell over the yard. The severity of the punishment made it clear to everyone present that food was a sacred resource under the new shaman’s rule.
"To ensure the meals are served on time, we need volunteers," said Kellar, looking toward the assembled women. "Any woman who wishes to assist Maya, Mila, and Meli in preparing food for the tribe is welcome to join the kitchen."
Several women from the lower-class huts and wives of the hunters exchanged hopeful glances, bowing their heads to offer their help.
"Lastly, and most importantly," said Kellar, locking eyes with the able-bodied adults. "All children in the tribe may eat as much as they need without restriction. But adults must earn their keep through daily labor. If it is reported to me that someone refuses to work or loafs around, we do not need you here. You are free to leave our territory whenever you wish."
Kellar paused, a small spark of red lightning flickering briefly across his eyes.
"Remember that the Bear God reveals all things to me," said Kellar. "I will know if you lie."
The words struck deep into the hearts of the crowd. Many swallowed nervously at the reminder of the shaman’s terrifying power and divine connection, while the hardest workers and parents breathed heavy sighs of relief, realizing their children would never go hungry again.
Without wasting any time, Maya, Mila, and Meli organized the volunteers to light the stone hearths. Soon, the rich aroma of roasted fish and thick broth swept over the central yard, making everyone’s mouth water.
Kellar watched the food prep begin for a brief moment before turning back to the tribal captain.
"Krag, bring Mentz back here," said Kellar. "There is another major structure we need to begin immediately."
Krag rushed off to fetch the old man, who returned at a hurried pace leaning on his wooden crutch.
"At your command, Shaman," said Mentz, bowing his head with deep respect. "What do you require of this old man?"
"In the center of this area, right beside where my residence will stand, I want you to construct a Community Dining Hall," said Kellar.
Kellar picked up the charcoal stick once more and sketched a broad, open-concept building on the back of the leather, marking long rows of wooden tables and fixed benches.
"I don’t want the people having to eat out in the snow during winter," said Kellar, pointing to the lines on the drawing. "It must be a massive hall with high ceilings, large fireplaces at both ends to keep it warm, and multiple entryways so traffic moves smoothly."
As Mentz listened to the explanation and studied the charcoal sketches, his eyes lit up with profound admiration.
"The Shaman thinks in everything..." said Mentz, whispering in awe. "With a structure like this, the entire tribe can eat under a roof protected from the freezing wind, distribution will be orderly, and the chaos during mealtimes will disappear."
"Precisely," said Kellar, handing the leather back to Mentz. "Have your men begin measuring the ground first thing tomorrow morning."
"It shall be done as you command, Shaman," said Mentz, pressing the leather map against his chest as if it were a sacred treasure.
"Having capable subjects is great, it saves me so much time and effort," said Kellar to himself, watching Mentz walk away shouting instructions to the workers. "I definitely need to find more people like him as soon as possible."
Beside him, Krag stared at the bustling crowd, the roaring hearths, and the villagers organizing themselves under the direction of the women and the old builder. However, his face wore a strange expression—a mix of restlessness and uncertainty as his fist tightened at his side.
Kellar noticed the shift in his captain’s demeanor and gave him a light tap on the shoulder.
"Come with me," said Kellar, turning to walk toward his residence. "I want you to see something."