章 253: 6
280AC – Part IV
In the end I lost seven men curb stomping – for it had been nothing else – the ironborn, only five of them being immediate casualties while the last two died of infection within a week of the battle. Medicine being what it was in Westeros there was little I could do and only slightly more that could have been done with a maester at hand. It really rubbed me the wrong way something fierce, to lose men to something modern medicine would have fixed up within a month at most, but there was nothing to be done about it. I had neither the knowledge nor the resources to change it but I nonetheless made a mental note to search my brain for some gems of medical lore that might have been common knowledge in my last life but were completely unknown this time around. Germ theory came to mind and I had already started acting on it with my orders of midwives and other helping hands being thoroughly disinfected before, during and after the birth. Already Wyndal had noticed a difference in the mortality rate of women during birth but still hesitated actually believing that simply being clean had such an impact. He would come around in time, I suspected.
The ironborn on the other hand had lost 321 souls either directly or through infection in the days after the battle, leaving roughly a hundred and thirty men – half of them injured in minor ways but healing – in my tender care. At least that had been their number at the start. While many of my men took care of looting the dead and throwing the corpses onto a big pyre I had taken to offering the prisoners a choice.
"You are found guilty of reaving in the north, collaborating with wildlings and practising slavery in all but name.", I state loudly from the back of my horse as my eye wanders over the captured and bound ironborn gathered before me, most glaring sullenly at my form. "The sentence for any one of those offences is death. I am feeling lenient today and offer those that are willing the option of taking the Black. You have one hour to decide. Choose."
An angry grumble goes through the ranks of the captured pirates only to quiet down quickly as my men rattle their weapons in a very obvious manner. Returning an hour later I have nearly a hundred new recruits for the wall, the remainder choosing a quick beheading over freezing their balls off. For me it was a win-win situation, really. Sending reinforcements to the wall could not go amiss in my mind even though old Mormont – if he was already Lord Commander, I could not quite remember – would have to take care to split them up into manageable groups. Neither could seeing justice done on the reavers not willing to take the Black made me feel too bad.
I had performed the executions myself, knowing that the north favoured those we stood by the judgement they made. If you sentence them to death you had better be the one to swing the sword as well and all that. It would further my standing with the other northern lords...and take care of pesky witnesses that could tell their brethren where their ships had suddenly disappeared to.
By now I had grown somewhat desensitised to death and killing. My old self would be gibbering in terror in some corner at the very thought of what I had been forced to become in my new world, but what choice did I have? It was a very primal world out here with either kill or be killed more often than not. Survival of the fittest in its most brutal form...and as I did really like living I had made a choice that really wasn't one. I would have to live with it and maybe I would even be able to keep little bits and pieces of my old morale compass alive. Time would tell.
I of course had no illusion that the source of my sudden fleet – and didn't I giggle like a child each time I thought about how I kept failing my way to success – wouldn't be discovered sooner or later. Still, it would not be in time to save house Weaver from economical collapse as their whole fleet besides one longship had disappeared on this venture if the prisoners were to be believed. The heir – one Harren Weaver – had been among the dead now unceremoniously thrown into the pyre. I was sure that not sending the bones back would have earned myself the house as an enemy if destroying their immediate future would not have done it beforehand.
As it was, I had not been fast enough to stop the noble corpse being thrown onto the fire anyway, leaving me to suffer the consequences in the future, whatever they may be. For now I was buying time by either burning, executing and burning or sending to the wall every last ironborn. I had considered putting the ironborn to work in my lands somewhere but discarded the idea after some thought. Hopefully it would be many months before news reached house Weaver and by that point they might no longer be of any consequence. Losing as many ships as they had in addition to the heir vanishing would not do them any good and hopefully force them to keep their heads low for at least a generation if it didn't outright destroy them. Balon would also wash his hands of them in a hurry I suspected. The pirates would be declared rogue without a second thought, more so as the Greyjoy lord would not like his reavers being coloured as incompetent by associating themselves with the total military disaster the raid had turned out to be. Maybe everything would even blow over without any overt consequences for me and mine. One could hope, no?
The ships thankfully were in good condition even though there was little in the way of treasure stocked within. It seemed that the reavers had only packed what they needed to feed and water their warriors and little else. All the monetary loot I got, some dozen dragons in copper and silver coins, had been gathered from the dead and imprisoned reavers, but I was still almost deliriously happy with my gains. My fleet had suddenly jumped from two ships of which one was a trading cog to more than three times that number with six warships being part of my force. By handing me a near impossible task, Eddard Stark had actually made it possible to carry it out. Well, at least once I found enough sailors to crew the damn sea faring death traps. I quite disliked sea travel, sue me.
Still, I couldn't help but shake my head at the irony of my fortune. I had lucked into enough resources to actually be someone of middling importance in the coming conflicts, if I managed to keep my gains at least. I would also have to start investing into fortifications a lot more. Having my fleet mostly made out of ironborn prize ships I would likely become a target once the Greyjoy rebellion kicked off in a few years, if not beforehand. Thinking about it I could likely use that excuse, in some form, to explain any military build-up at least for the close future. Might even soothe some ruffled feathers.
The battle clean up had also included some other things that could not be put off. I had made two deals and associated promises before the battle, both which I intended to honour.
The peasants had been the easy part, the men and women being happy at getting paid a silver each of the gathered loot despite never having been in any danger at all. That they had taken the risk in the first place qualified them to be paid in my mind. They also took the offer to move to my lands, having in most cases nowhere to return to anyway. Making yet another go at peasant theft left me feeling strangely neutral. I did know that it might be taken the wrong way by my neighbours, but there was likely little they could actually do about it and I was already in for a penny, so a pound more would not impact the result any. Most likely at least. Who could fault the smallfolk for wanting to move shop closer to the person that already saved them once, after all.
The Thenn on the other hand...this would cause problems in the future, of this I was sure. Still, I had given my word and I would not risk getting a reputation for breaking a deal once struck, regardless of the party I made the bargain with. Ragnar had upheld his end and would have tried drawing the Ironborn on land and fought next to my men as well, had either been necessary. Again the will to see the deal through qualified him to earn his reward just as it did the smallfolk. Wallace had played devil's advocate and reminded me that I could have them killed nonetheless, being raiders as they were, but I declined.
Instead I step next to Ragnar, who had been watching my men throw the ironborn into the giant pyre from the cliffs with his men lounging close by as darkness of the late day crept ever closer.
"You are free to go.", I tell him quietly, shadows dancing over his face as night falls and only the orange light of the fire remains clearly visible.
He grunts and turns to me. "You will honour your word? Despite none of my clan having shed any blood in this battle?"
"Aye, I will.", I confirm, eyes never leaving the flames. "The reavers lack of self preservation is no fault of your own or that of your men. You would have fought at our side, so you will benefit from keeping your side of the bargain."
Ragner stays silent for a long moment staring at my face before turning back to watch the pyre as well. "Why are you throwing the dead onto the pyre, Magnar? Your people are said to bury their dead.", he asks quietly, choosing not to voice his obvious disbelief at me – the kneeler – actually keeping word.
I turn to look at him for a long moment, thinking over my next words and what to actually say to him.
"Three reasons.", I finally start and turn to the fire once again, my tone evening out.
"First and least it is an insult to the ironborn. They believe in the so-called drowned god, some creature that dwells within the depths of the ocean. Their burial rites would see them bury their dead at sea either by throwing them overboard weighted by something or burned with a ship if it was a nobleman. Cremating their dead instead, on land no less, shows contempt for this belief.
Second and most practical is that there are just too many dead for my men to bury within a reasonable time. The dead attract sickness if left to rot for too long and I will not risk my men catching something just because we wanted to do the `right thing`. No, this way is faster and less labour intensive.
Third..."
I hesitate, stop and look at the Thenn leader again. "Third and most important… The ironborn have a love to state that `what is dead will never die but rises harder, and stronger`, which I intend to prove wrong. What is dead better stay dead and ashes will never rise again while corpses might. I do not wish to leave dead lying around and easily accessible should any walkers make it past the wall."
Ragnar freezes at my words before his head whips around so fast that he might have broken his neck, had he any more speed to the motion. His expression looked stricken, "How..."
I snort, voicing the argumentation I had been thinking over for a while and not the chance to present until now.
"So I was right after all.", I grimace using my best acting skill, for I had known what I pretended to only guess at, "I suspected something amiss for a while as raids by you and the other clansmen became more numerous over the last years. Not many have noticed yet but those looking at the right place are becoming worried.
There have been two explanations for the sudden surge of attacks for those putting their minds to the question, one very logical and one less logical, very improbable but still vaguely possible.
One, the Watch has grown so weak that the wildlings… free folk as you call yourself… are drawn to exploit said weakness. Who would say no to easy raiding and looting with only a few old or craven men standing in your way, after all? The only real challenge would be crossing the sheer height of the wall but everything else would be almost as easy as stealing from a baby, no?"
Ragnar continues to stare at me in silent stupor as I raise another finger which joined the first one I had raised.
"Or two, you were not really drawn by something but pushed to move south. What could that be, I wonder? The lands of always winter have been known to kill any that moved within and there is little else to your north. So what could be forcing you to move south? There is only one explanation, far stretched as it may seem."
Silence stretches between us again with half a dozen Thenns close to us listening with rapt attention, as was Shale who had taken to guarding my back during this conversation.
"The valley of Thenn holds strong", Ragnar finally starts, gaze absent and empty.
"Our valley is a place of warmth with warm water bubbling to the surface at many places, steam heating the lands enough for the clan to make some food of the earth. Recently though the wells have been growing colder and an icy wind blows from the far north. Dead things have been spotted moving, lone hunters and small groups of travellers disappearing to never be seen again.
The elders have sent us out to scout ways past the wall and to gather and bring back what we can to aid the struggle that they see on the horizon. We of the true north know that magic still exists even if you kneelers seem to have forgotten its existence long ago, Magnar. Giants walk among the free folk often and sometimes even the children of the forest are still spotted even though their sightings have grown rare in the last decades. I have never seen one myself but my father told stories of visits he witnessed himself. The north grows colder and every year winter – true winter – is coming closer to smother all that lives and breathes under the sun."
"The Stark in Winterfell", I start using a slightly more archaic way of stating `House Stark`, "They have fitting words they call their own. 'Winter is coming', they have stated since before they have been known as Kings of Winter. In the end they are always right."
"Yes, they are. We know of the Starks, Magnars of old even if they have lost their way in a world of kneelers. The name is still known in the true north."
"Still…", he continues before turning to face me fully, "Where does this leave us?"
"We might have started out as enemies but I would have us part as something more...friendly. We might not be friends but before the threat the walkers present every living soul becomes an ally against the dead."
Silence stretches for minutes before I finally continue, voicing a barely coherent plan that likely would ensure that my wife would throttle me three ways to sunday not too far into the future.
"I intend to found a small trading post on the coast of the bay of ice next summer. Not now as winter will be upon us soon I suspect but in a few years. It will offer you and other clans the opportunity to be known as something else than raiders, murderers and rapists and build goodwill, should the… pressure… become too much to bear."
Ragnar nodded slowly, deep in thought. He had obviously instantly caught on to the fact that this would open a way for the free folk to communicate with the south while bypassing the very much anti free folk Night's Watch, should the situation grow to be too bad to tolerate. It also offered a way out in the worst case as I had quite obviously just gained a fleet. Not being stupid the Thenn could add two and two together and come to the conclusion that I would have very little interest for the clansmen to come – literally – back to haunt me if the walkers slaughtered them all. This again led him to the conclusion that I would be a possible ally indeed. Survival instinct and self interest alone would guarantee such.
"I….. I will speak with the elders. Once you found your outpost we will find you or your men and not attack on sight as we would with other kneelers, if I can convince those that lead the Thenn. This is all I am willing to promise. I can also not speak for the other clans...and the elders may choose to ignore my advice as well.", he states before offering his hand.
"Fair enough", I grunt and grab his lower arm, him doing the same to my own as we shake on our loose agreement.
"Be aware that we will bring some goods to trade with us. If you are willing, you will get a fair bargain for them."
"What will you be bringing and what would you want in return?", he asks at once, knowing that a lot would depend on the initial encounter.
I knew this as well and hoped that no one would be stupid enough to draw steel or attack the other party. My future expedition turning into a bloodbath would put an end to any northern ambition I might have had. "Steel tools, food, salt, ale and other things we think to be of use in the north. We would be interested in oil, ivory, gold, silver or gems. Other things we might find worthwhile as well but you know what you have to offer better than I would."
I did not mention but would also try to offer them dragonglass weapons if I found a way to get the stuff somewhere till the expedition kicked off. Selling them weapons would be looked at badly but what could they do with stone weapons that would shatter as soon as it met steel? Really, there wasn't much the northern lords would be able to say against it. Maybe I would even get congratulated on 'duping the stupid wildlings' or something. Doing this would hopefully weaken the walkers and might even kill some of them, their minions at the very least, and soften the blow that would likely strike the wall at some point anyway. For I was reasonably sure that the long night would come even if I equipped a lot of clansmen with obsidian weapons. After seeing the Night King no-selling dragonfire in the show I had little hope that anything besides valyrian steel would put an end to him. But who knew, I might be wrong or someone might get lucky and prove me wrong.
That reminded me… I grasp the obsidian dagger that I had taken to carry around after first discovering the cache of ancient relics. Ragner tenses as he sees me going for the weapon but relaxes again as I offer it to him hilt first. I had a few of them and could afford to give one away in a gable on the future.
"The old tales speak of valyrian steel and dragonglass, obsidian, being able to hurt or even kill the walkers where bronze, iron and steel fail. Take this weapon as a token of my goodwill and should you ever encounter a walker, may it prove the tales true."
The Thenn leader accepts the weapon reverently, the dark stone glittering in the light of the nearby pyre before he fastens it to his belt. "It will be cherished, Magnar."
We talked for nearly an hour more and at the end of the night I had found, while not a friend, at least a shaky ally in all things related to the white walkers and their undead thralls. If the connection would actually be useful in the future I would have to see, but at least I had made a start I mused. As I watched the surviving Thenn vanish into the darkness, heading north. They might not even make it back to their home anyway. The way north was dangerous enough for them even without me actively going after them. Again, time would tell.
Wallace steps up to my side as soon as the Thenn vanished. "White walkers?"
"Yes", I state and stretch slowly, tiredness creeping into my every motion. "South of the wall no one would believe what I suspected and now had verified...so we will keep it between us, for now at least. We still have some years left, I think. Pointing at the threat now would see us, me especially, ridiculed and sidelined in a hurry. That I cannot allow...it would make everything that is needed that much harder to accomplish."
The plate wearing clansmen smiles wryly at me, expression determined. "I already gave you my oath a month ago and this...this had shown me yet again that Thorre, Brigitte and myself made the right decision all these weeks ago."
I grunt noncommittally, not quite knowing what to reply to such a statement with. Instead I clapped him on the back in a friendly way as I moved past him and made my way back to the camp, the youth following after me a second later. We would not talk about the Thenn again anytime soon, a silent agreement existing between us that the established deal would remain secret for now, as would everything that might result from it.
Three days after the battle we were on the move again, the logistics of the journey back to Rytherstone having taken some time to sort out. I had to spread out the few experienced sailors I had on my two ships between every sea faring vessel now part of my forces and supplement them with soldiers and small folk at the best of my ability. This left every ship dangerously short on experienced hands and while willing, the men and women crewing them oftentimes simply did not know what to do at which time. Getting back to my home would be a risk for them even with the strict order to hug the coast all the way. One of my men had proposed using the captured ironborn to get the ships back, but I had vetoed the idea instantly. I wanted the reavers where I could keep an eye on them and as far as possible from any means of escape or at the very least bound like a christmas turkey at all times. No, I would not risk any reaver being free to move on a longship or any other sea faring vessel even if I had to trade one risk for another in doing so.
The reavers would be bound at all times and had been spread amongst the ships equally with my men outnumbering them at the very least by two to one in every case. I had given the strict order to throw any ironborn that made trouble overboard at once for their drowned god to sort out. At first I had not wanted them on the ships at all but this would have left me to walk them back to Rytherport, which would have taken weeks at the very least and offered them even more opportunities to escape than the sea travel would. Those potential weeks and months were not something I was willing to invest into prisoner escort as I had better things to do, so I was taking a risk. The horsed men would remain with me while everybody else returned home by ship. Hopefully they would all make it and await me once I returned.
Seeing the ships off left me with my cavalry at the ancestral seat of house Frost. Glancing to Wallace and Shale who had taken up positions at my sides as always I smiled and simply started forwards without a word, my riders starting to follow at once. Now again I found the feeling of being the leader to be strangely empowering, knowing that the men would follow my every command. Well, not every command, but the reasonable and maybe even the risky ones. At moments like this my old life showed itself and poked me mentally with a stick as I had to remind myself that power corrupted and absolute power corrupted absolutely. I had power, yes. But this power was minor in the greater scheme of things and it was also a great responsibility. As hesitant as I was to quote Spiderman, but he had the right of it at least that one time. Great power, great responsibility… I actually would have preferred not having either.
On the way to the old ruin we had been in a hurry, on the way back while we still travelled fast. It was at a far more leisure pace and made maybe half the distance we had before. The first week we enjoyed good weather only for it to turn sour afterwards with lots of rain, followed by a vicious storm that forced us to abandon the coast and seek shelter within the nearby woods. We had enough tools with us to build rudimentary shelter but the two days the storm raged turned out to be the most miserable of it I had the misfortune to enjoy in Westeros. On the third day we could finally continue our journey and were very much relieved as good weather returned. Thankfully none of my men or myself had fallen sick due the wet and cold conditions we had been forced to halt in, so we made good time again and the trails of the weather were quickly put in the back of our mind. Sadly the elemental forces were not ignored or forgotten this easily, a reminder of which we got a week later.
We found one of the captured longships shattered on the coast, a victim of the storm for all to see. We quickly searched the wreck but only found dead soldiers, prisoners and smallfolk alike. Animals had already been to some of the corpses but at least no human scavengers had been to the wreck as far as we could tell. Of survivors we found no traces so we had to assume that the crew and their prisoners had died to the last fighting the storm. After recovering all we could from the disaster we set fire to the vessel, turning it into a pyre for the dead. My thoughts dark, I speed up our travel, Rytherstone coming into sight a little less than a dozen days later. My gaze flickered to the harbour at once, a grimace appearing on my face as I spotted the cog and four longships, one more of the captured vessels missing from the muster.
Heading straight for my castle I dismissed most of my men on the way, only my sworn swords and half a score men following me to my seat while the others peeled off and headed for their own homes, greatly relieved to be back and able to see their families. Riding through the gates I was greeted by happy exclamations, Jasana appearing on a balcony a few seconds later with a wide smile on her face. She seemed to be almost...glowing?… at my arrival. I had seen something like this before in my old and as well in my new life. A smile comes almost unbidden to my face as a small but wonderful suspicion forms in the back of my mind. Another one? Well, we had given our best at the very least.
"Husband", she smiles as she all but teleports to the gate leading to the inner courtyard, "Welcome back. I have news." The second part of the sentence is underlined with a hand resting on her lower middle and I simply smile while embracing her, breathing in the earthy scent of her hair.
"Children are a blessing, as are you. Having both is a godsend indeed.", I mumble into Jasanas ear while fighting to keep down my happy tears. I had appearances to keep up after all. Taking a step back I gave my wife a once over, absently noting that she had yet to show – not that this was surprising this early in a pregnancy – and looked absolutely radiant.
"You look to be in a happy mood, wife?", I muse and she smiles wider.
"Why wouldn't I be? My family is growing and my husband returned after winning a truly stunning victory. The smallfolk have been singing your praises ever since the ships – old and new – arrived."
I chuckle warmly before allowing my face to fall, shaking my head sadly. "Not all made it and at least some families will mourn instead of celebrating."
"Yes, some… and maybe yet more", she agrees with a glance at Wyndal, who had arrived a little after her and was waiting a respectful distance away a little to the side, "as we are still missing two of the ships the men reported you sent out."
"One", I corrected grimly and tell her of the shattered wreck we found on our way back to Rytherstone before turning to the missing one as her face turned pained.
"The last one I do not expect to see again either. I would be happy to be wrong of course but I suspect that it either has sunk during the storm or – which might actually be worse – that the prisoners got loose and gained control of the ship. In this case they will be halfway to the Iron Islands by now and bring with them news far sooner than I would like. The two ships and fifty men at arms are lost to us, as are the smallfolk and prisoners that have been transported by them. We will have to do without."
"Always the pessimist.", my wife grumbles only for me to look at her seriously and shake my head.
"I prefer realist, really.", I grunt before gesturing vaguely in the direction of the harbour. "I have found it to be prudent to always assume the worst case and prepare for it. If it actually happens a counter is ready. If it doesn't and good fortune strikes instead, all the better… but better be prepared and not need it than to be in need and not prepared."
Jasana is silent for a long moment before slowly nodding, gazing at me thoughtfully. "You speak wisdom, husband. Something, which we will need soon enough."
"Oh? What happened?", I ask, suddenly worried.
Giving Wyndal a sign she glances around. "Not here. Let us take this into the solar."
Wyndal follows us silently as we ascend the stairs to my private office, the door closing after us with Wallace taking up a guarding position on the outside.
I suddenly had a really bad feeling about this.
Already feeling a headache coming up I pour myself some ale from a present pitcher and sit down on my comfortable chair.
"Alright. Before we get to the heart of the matter, first the...footwork. What is the state of the fief and have I missed something in the two moons I have been away?"
"Not much, Milord.", starts Wyndal after a little hesitation, "Work at the docks continues according to plan, as does the expansion of the fortifications. Two traders have come and gone leaving a few score smallfolk to be integrated as usual. Tensions between the different groups making up the population remain high but there has been no violence...yet. I suspect that your return and that of your soldiers will quiet down any unrest that might have happened otherwise."
"Will the loss of roughly a sixth of my men to the sea impact this?"
"No, Milord.", he replies at once before stopping for a moment, a frown on his face. "At least not if they stay at garrison duty permanently. Over two hundred men should be easily able to police the population as it is, even if we grow as we have been in the last two years."
"...I do not know if that will be possible, Wyndal", I sigh and point to a shelf where Lord Stark's message had been placed. "Lord Stark did not set an end date to my guard duty regarding the western coast. I will have most of those men patrolling before long until I hear something different from him."
The semi maester grimaces and shares a look with my wife, which causes alarm bells to ring in my mind. "In that case, Milord… I recommend replacing the lost men as soon as possible and maybe even expanding your men at arms yet again."
"Alright", I state deadpan, "no use in avoiding the elephant in the room. What the fuck happened?"
Jasana is the one to speak up first. "We received word from the south as you were away."
"And?", I prod as she falls silent again.
"There has been a battle at the Trident. Rhaeger has been slain and the royal forces defeated...but not all is good news."
I impatiently wave her on, having enough of both of them beating around the bush.
"Lord Baratheon has been wounded in the fighting and it is not known if he will recover. The lords Tully and Arryn are wounded as well… as is lord Stark, leaving the army effectively paralysed on their field of victory. Our lord is said to be on the way to recovery but with the others it will be touch and go.
The losses during the battle have been… enormous. While a victory for our cause, it has gutted the northern houses. Lords Branch and Woods have been slain, their men decimated nearly to the last. Lords Glover and Forrester remain unhurt, but they also have lost nearly all of their men as the battle order placed them in the thick of the fighting.
The northern host has been cut to a third of its number, leaving the north vulnerable to all that wish us harm for the foreseeable future, even if the war finishes within a fortnight."
"Damn", I mutter as my mind races, knowing that the battle had been costly but not this costly in the books. Had I butterflied something to change the results? In the end it didn't matter as I wasn't all knowing and could only act with the best intentions in mind but still...I wondered. Turning my thoughts to the matter at hand, I frown.
"If all the western houses have been hit likewise this will leave us with one of the biggest standing forces on the coast, if not the biggest force, depending on the path the fighting takes from this point onwards. At least for the immediate future until the other lords can recover their losses.", I state more than ask absently as my mind races, the two others in my solar nodding silently.
"The next and last step will be Kings Landing. After that and if the capital falls, the remaining loyalists will fall in line.", I muse staring blankly into my tankard before taking a large swipe of the beverage. "The town is well fortified and the assembled host will take losses, which will see the north weakened even further. No matter who ascends the throne there will be a period of unrest following the – no doubt – bloody change of power. Either way there is a good chance that Lord Stark will either rely on us to police the eastern coast as he stamps out other fires...or he might even be forced to summon me and the men south as reinforcements should the battle at the capital go badly. Correct so far?"
Both nod numbly, a little stunned at my thought process.
"Has there been any indication of such happening?", I inquired, still deep in thought.
"None", admits Jasana at once, "but we estimate either to be equally likely, which is a problem considering the resources available. Policing the coast requires us to man the ships for long range patrols while the cavalry keeps an eye on the closer areas. We do not have the sailors needed and will not for a while. Sending reinforcements south will deplete the forces available to keep a lid on things regarding the integration of the different groups. Recruiting will also be impossible as we do not have the money to pay for it, nor can we squeeze the available manpower much further without impacting other areas."
I grunt, not surprised at the problem presenting itself but also glad to be able to alleviate at least some of the underlying problems. "Money will not be an issue for a while. We came into a lot of coin searching the old Frost castle. A few thousands dragons or better in their older equivalent have been found and will be put to good use. I have the money with the guards to be placed in the vaults...wanting them close by in case somebody got greedy."
Both again looked stunned and I was forced to tell the tale of the hidden vault that had been buried beneath debris for likely hundreds of years before a sufficiently determined – or fanatical – search finally unearthed it again.
"We will of course have to expand our economy to the best of our ability to make it viable in the long term but for now we will be able to afford what is needed to prepare for either scenario.", I start up again after the surprise has passed, turning to Wyndal.
"Send a raven to Seaguard, asking to recruit enough sailors to man the captured ships. The town will be most likely to have the men we need as well as the fastest to send the men. I would have preferred White Harbor but it is too far away to be of any use...for now."
I pause, mulling over my words for a moment before shaking my head.
"Belay that. Send a raven to the Manderlys as well, asking for experienced sailors. We can always just over staff the ships and will be prepared for additional ones, should we gain any. Include into the letter to Seaguard that we would be interested in ships as well, if they have any to sell."
The last sentence I include as an afterthought, not expecting anything to come of it but one never knew. Wyndal was hastily making notes on a small piece of parchment as I continued talking, having sunken completely into a sort of problem solving fudge.
"Send a raven to the holdfasts of houses Glover, Forrester, Branch, Woods and Boyle, informing them of the state of things. One can never know if they have gotten a raven as well or have not yet been informed. Include our condolences and the usual courtesies. I will sign it once you have written it down."
Jasana nods approvingly at including our neighbours. She had already reminded me a few times that good or at least neutral relations with the other minor lords would be a great boon in the future, in whatever form benefits might show themselves.
"Recruit another fifty men from the smallfolk and start training them, replacing those we lost during the last campaign. Expanding further is something we cannot do with the base population we have. If we have a strong influx of immigrants we can revisit the issue, but for now it will have to do. Instead, announce a small archery competition to be held in half a year with ten dragons as the main prize, five for the runner up and two for third place. Invent some believable reason for it. Everybody, men or women, child or greybeard, will be permitted to participate. This will spur the smallfolk on to train with the weapon and give us a practised archery reserve of some size, should we need it in an emergency."
By now both were simply staring at me as I had taken to walking back and forth while firing out orders by the dozen, not even seeing the room in front of me any longer. I had always been this way. Give me a problem and I would solve it or at least offer options...but sometimes things just got away from me, my mind taking the problem and sort of going off the rails from there while still aligning roughly to the initially posed question.
"Jasana", I continue as I turn to my wife who perks up at the direct address, "send word to your family. The clans know their mountains best and how to spot unused resources. Hire experts in finding them and get them here and settled. We will need more sources of income before long and this is an avenue we now – at least for a while – have the money to explore. If something comes of it, good. If not, we at least know where we stand."
"Yes, husband.", she whispers while staring at me with a smouldering gaze that caused me to feel more than a little warm beneath my thick linen shirt and chainmail, which I was still wearing for reasons I couldn't quite recall right now. It seems being decisive had some interesting… effects… on my wife.
"Wyndal", I turn to the man still frantically taking notes.
"Yes, milord?"
"See to it that word spreads of our need for people and the opportunity that is to be had in my lands by those who seek it. Work and the food and gold that comes with it. Use any contacts that you have and do not be shy to remind the lords of the riverlands who are most likely to suffer from refugees that there is a place where they can be offloaded. We need the people, they do not want them. Everybody wins. Also send Ravens to Lannisport and the other Westerland ports that we will be buying grain. They will either be selling or not, depending on Lord Tywin's stand on the rebellion. Worst case they will know that we need food, which would surprise exactly no one as winter is always coming. The Riverland ports are unlikely to sell as their stores have been hit hard by the war, the Iron Islands we will not even consider… Set aside a fifth of our new fortune for it and see to it that granaries are ready by the time any delivery happens. I will not draw the smallfolk to my lands only for them to starve come winter."
Taking a deep breath I smile at both of them, suddenly feeling exhausted. "This should take care of our immediate problems. After two weeks of rest I will split the cavalry in two and patrol what ground I can while two of the longships remain in port. The other two will act as a pair and patrol in the direction of the iron islands, hopefully intercepting any aggressors before they can slip by them and move to the coast north of us. After getting more sailors the other two will join them."
Sitting down again I sigh wearily. "And now please leave me be for a few moments. I have a letter to write for Talbart. Jasana, I will be with you immediately after."
Both nod and depart, my wife not before throwing me another smouldering look and including an extra swing in her hips. Man, I was getting lucky tonight. Something to look forward to at the very least. Glancing down at the paper I write a quick report, leaving out some parts while highlighting others and remaining sufficiently vague that not much would be gained by intercepting the message.
Talbart, I hope this message finds you well and our cause successful. Lord Stark's task has been accomplished with minimal losses. Most raiders have been slain, the rest will reinforce the Wall. Transports have been seized and those that survived the storm that hit us by surprise will be used to expand the range of my patrols. Cordially, Darren
Standing up after rolling up the scroll and adding my seal to it I stretch before moving to the window, the town of Rytherstone visible in the distance.
The year was coming to a close in a hurry and I had accomplished much. Why was it that it felt like I had only moved a grain of sand where I should have shattered a mountain?
OOC: Updating somewhat faster than anticipated as Corona again hits everything like a runaway train.
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