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After finalizing all the other agreements, Jorah calculated his profits, and it was almost 4 million Silver Stags. At that point, Jorah treated these rare, benevolent angels with the utmost care on his island. The finest meats, fish, and furs were generously provided by Jorah, and from then on, he was floating on cloud nine.
What trade with the Lannisters? What about the merchants? Their value had plummeted like an anchor dropped at a dock. In a month, Jorah would earn more than in the next ten years of trading. The Gods truly were great.
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After a dinner that held a blend of both delight and tension, Tyrion found himself in the council room with Jorah, ready to delve into the matters of trade that had been looming.
"Lord Mormont," Tyrion began, pulling out the relevant documents, "since fortune seems to favour us today, why not cement the deal between Bear Island and Casterly Rock on a positive note?"
Handing the papers over, Tyrion watched as Jorah, his interest waning, carefully perused the contents. Fortunately, Tyrion had already trimmed down some of the excessive items from the initial list, though the appetite of a lion remained no small thing.
"Not bad," Jorah murmured, taking up a pen and adjusting according to his own judgment. The precious sea pearls and timber were struck out, and the superfluous descriptor before high-quality furs were eliminated. Additionally, Jorah marked a few other alterations before passing the list back to Tyrion.
Tyrion accepted the amended list and studied Jorah's face for a moment in contemplative silence.
"From this point forward, no new exclusive agreements with any merchant or a port. We must maximize the value of our modest resources. Signing these exclusive agreements would mean cutting off possible markets. That would be stupid on my part. Won't it?
I do, however, acknowledge House Lannister's existing exclusive deal with us in Lannisport, pertaining to a specific type of fish. To strengthen our ties, we can extend this trade to encompass other seafood. Nevertheless, that should mark the extent of it.
As for sea pearls and precious furs, auctions shall be the new norm, held at various ports and cities across Westeros. Timber and the majority of sea products will be openly available here on Bear Island for anyone interested to purchase."
Jorah's declaration left Tyrion perplexed.
"Do you truly believe Lords and merchants will venture all the way to Bear Island for timber and fish? Is there any reason that compels them to put their lives in danger just for this mere trade?"
"We journey to the Reach for our grains, do we not? If they want it, they will come. They need profit above anything. Even if there are no buyers, these goods can be distributed among the people of Bear Island, improving their lives."
Tyrion was thoroughly bewildered. He couldn't fathom why Jorah would suddenly forsake a thriving city like Lannisport for this relatively barren village. Furthermore, the combined value of these items was substantial—a sum that these struggling folk could ill afford to lose. Should they?
"So, in essence, no new exclusive deals and no major trades. Only a select few valuable items, that to be auctioned. Is that correct?" Tyrion inquired, a furrow forming on his brow.
"Exactly. You truly are a shrewd man, Tyrion. Come, have a drink." Jorah generously poured a drink for Tyrion and took a few sips himself before bidding his guest farewell.
As Tyrion left, he was a whirlwind of confusion, frustration, and helplessness. He was confounded by Jorah's sudden change in approach, angered by his failure to secure a deal that could have greatly benefited House Lannister, and tarnished his own reputation in the process.
This marked the first task his father had entrusted him with, and he couldn't shake the feeling of having fallen short. It left him more despondent than he cared to admit. Jorah, on the other hand, seemed unperturbed. After his drink, he headed straight for the bath chamber, summoning his maids for a personal celebration.
The night passed, and the following morning, Jorah convened another meeting with the traders. This time, his resolve was unwavering. He conveyed his decisions to the crestfallen group who had failed to capitalize on Bear Island's resources, leaving them with an invitation.
"In six months', time, Bear Island will open its own market to the world. I invite you and other merchants to come and establish yourselves here. There are countless resources on this island that could bring unimaginable wealth. Thank you all for visiting my humble abode. Feel free to stay as long as you like, and I hope we'll cross paths again in the future."
With these words, Jorah shattered any illusions these traders held and departed with a light heart. His focus now shifted to the book workshop.
"Maester Allen, you're aware of the task we received from the Church. This month, I want the workshop to run in two shifts. Complete the deal as swiftly as possible."
"Understood, M'Lord," Maester Allen replied without hesitation. Yet, Jorah couldn't help but entertain a touch of caution. These maesters served the Lords, but where did their loyalties truly lie? It was a puzzle that has remained unsolved for generations.
That afternoon, Jorah led his Falcons to the Raven's nest, allowing them to feast upon their feathered quarry. For the next month, Maester Allen would be kept isolated. If word of the book printing spread, Jorah was certain that within a week of the final payment, Bear Island would be besieged by Ironborn or marauding rebels and bandits.
That evening, as Tyrion and his cohort of merchants prepared to depart the seemingly barren and unremarkable island, Jorah convened a brief meeting of the governing council.
"You've all reviewed the agreement. Within a month, we'll have wealth beyond our wildest dreams. I've called you here for a reason. Master Gibbs, Master Rodrick, do either of you have knowledge of any active slavers in Westeros we could contact?"
"There are plenty. While Westeros may have outlawed slavery, the Ironborns have a penchant for selling their salt wives and their offspring as slaves once they're done with them. They can't afford to raise many of these newborns, so the Ironborn resort to selling the older ones and raiding for new ones. This alone would create a market.
Add in the pirates operating in the Sunset Sea and Summer Sea, and there's a surplus of ships for raids, resulting in a steady supply of captured men and women sold as slaves."
Ser Gibbs said while pointing out a few locations on the map that were in the middle of the council room.
"Great. Please contact them as soon as possible. We need to buy some slaves and this is an urgent need." Jorah spoke with a smile but Lady Maege nearly jumped on her feet listening to this.
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