Chapter 2

His guard and himself arrived post-haste. He entered Winterfell, noting Robb Stark, just seven years old, and Jon Snow. He made his way forward and was greeted by Eddard, who looked him over with clear surprise. "Lord Wylis. Good to see you. Please, come with me to my solar. Wyatt agreed and followed.

They sat down, Ned sitting in front of the greatsword Ice. "I have heard much word of your tax reforms, corruption policies, printing presses… And you're much slimmer than the rest of your family. What changed, Lord Wylis?" Wyatt sat for a moment before responding. "When I had hit my head, I thought much upon my future - that was all I dreamed of. I wanted the North to be the greatest nation in the entirety of Westeros, and so I set to work on White Harbor." Ned listened and nodded his head. "I would like these, ahm, printing presses, and these new tax reforms. Your literacy promotion is also intriguing to me. Please, share these with me." Wylis nodded his head, turned to one of his men and nodded his head. "Here are the schematics, the report and the literacy promotion pamphlets. Please, do keep these under lock and key, though." Ned looked at the forms and nodded.

"Before I forget, I was thinking of something…" Wylis then looked to the east, in the direction of the white knife. "Well, we need more food. So, my thought was, we harvest ice along the white knife, and we use sawdust. Then we can preserve the ice and send it south in exchange for food." Ned nodded his head and then grinned. "Alright."

Ned stopped him, though. "Before you go, I would like to request… well, my son Robb is almost of age for fostering, and Jon Arryn is busy with one of the Redfort boys. Will you foster him?" Wylis had to consider that. "Yes, I will." Ned smiled and told one of his guards outside to fetch Robb. The boy came in with his things packed. "You're Wylis Manderly? You're a lot less fat than I expected." Ned paled a bit but Wylis just laughed. "You and I are going to get along well, lad." He gestured for him to follow.

They made their way into the yard, and Wylis was preparing to get onto his horse when he felt a sharp smack on his thigh. He looked down to see Jon Snow looking up at him, holding a wooden practice sword two handed, with a look of fury on his face. "Why did you do that, lad?" Wylis asked, looking down at the boy. "You're stealing Robb away!" Wylis just laughed and ruffled the boys hair before hopping on his horse. Seeing Robb on the horse next to him, he left with a wave to Ned.

For once, Wylis was glad his roommate in university had been a small town farmer's child from Kansas. Though he had originally been bored by the droning on about four-field crop rotation, he was thankful now. His roommate had talked about how the rotation of wheat, barley, turnips and clover would give good feed for livestock and return nutrients to the soil. He instituted that in his demesne farms and had shown it to his local vassals. But one of the big problems was the roads. He would never, ever do railroads - that would be too big a change, but his history teacher had talked about macadam roads, roads built of crushed stone. He decided to put that into his plans as well, but right now the biggest thing was then Faith.

Outraged by the printing presses taking away incomes from the septs, the High Septon had basically excommunicated him. He had thought long and hard about it and decided to cause a protestant revolution. He had posted a complaint in White Harbor saying that the people who believe in the Seven should be answering only to the holy book, The Seven Pointed Star, rather than to a corrupt and indulgent High Septon. Many people of White Harbor, grateful for the increasing literacy and prosperity under the Manderlys, had already converted. The High Septon had denounced him and immediately requested the King to have him killed, but the King was too far in his cups to care by now. Outraged, the High Septon had begun gathering followers of the main branch, now called Septonism, to attack White Harbor. Wylis had increased the guard, and thinking of the upcoming Greyjoy rebellion, had begun the construction of a large fleet.

Another thing to think about was a wife. He had thought about it. He wanted to add the demesne of Hornwood to his own. There was a fine forest and many mountains and hills in that area, so he could prospect for gold, iron or coal. He made his decision, then. He sent a messenger with an offer to marry the only lady of Hornwood at that time, Lyarra Hornwood. He then turned his attention to the printing presses. He needed paper, that was one of the reasons why he wanted the woods near the Hornwood lands, but there was a small forest to the west that would do for his fleet. He estimated he could build twenty five galleys and thirty cogs with the forest, so he set many men to work.

Five months later

Gods be good, this work was hard. He had gotten the fleet built after all with a bit of work. Robb was doing well in his training. His new wife, Lyarra, was a fine lady. But the High Septon's army was quickly marching north and his guards only had a month to fortify Moat Cailin. The Ironborn rebellion would start in just a month as well. Steel was starting to run low. He needed more steel, and that would require more iron. He had set men to mining away at the lands with the permission of the Hornwood lord, and steel was starting to trickle in, increasing more and more. Wood was coming in and he had it made into paper. The printing presses were hard at work and people were converting the south, with many disgruntled people agreeing. But right now his focus was plows and swords.

He needed plows made to increase food, which, with the preservation method he had tried out, was doing well enough. The swords were being sent to Moat Cailin, and he planned to go with the next shipment, seeing his wife well and pregnant. He had decided to take Robb as his squire as well and was bringing him west, though he would be kept behind the walls most of the time, as he would rather not risk the scorn of Lord Stark.

One month later

The army was finally here. Fifty five thousand malnourished, enraged peasants behind the fat High Septon. They didn't have siege engines and only one in ten was armed with anything more than a scythe, most often a rusted dagger or sword. One in fifty had a hunting bow and a few arrows, and only twenty or so were armed with armor and sword. This will be a pointless bloodbath… He decided to act. Thankfully his voice was loud. "PEOPLE OF WESTEROS! THE FAT HIGH SEPTON INDULGES HIMSELF ON FOOD WHILE YOU STARVE. YOUR PEOPlE DIE EVERY DAY OF HUNGER AND DISEASE, AND STILL HE CALLS THIS PITIFUL CRUSADE. JOIN ME, JOIN WHITE HARBOR, CONVERT TO MY PEOPLE'S RELIGION AND YOU WILL EAT WELL AND ENJOY GOOD HOUSING OR WORK ON MINE OWN FARMS!" Many of them looked at each other warily, and one man stepped forward. It was like a rush afterwards, at least half of them rushing forward away from the disgusting swamps of the Neck and joining his men. He had his men get ready to catalogue them and sent them all to farms, mills, but mostly smitheries or, if they were literate, to the printing shops. The High Septon shouted and screamed at them to stop, and he sent his twenty armed men to cut them down, but many of the peasants were armed and began to cut his guards down with their scythes, rocks and daggers and then they killed the High Septon, to his distressed shrieks of horror.

It was a bloodbath, mostly from . The few who hadn't joined laid down their weapons and joined the others in their exodus north. The only bloodshed was a few hundred peasants killed by the armed guards.

The people were sent north, and he readied himself to return home the next day when he heard more warhorns, a screeching roar. He realized too late that this was a preliminary attack by the Ironborn to cut off the North. Unfortunately for them, the twelve towers restored already were filled with archers. He got Robb behind the walls until it was safe, took to the walls in his knightly armor and trident and bellowed out commands. The Ironborn part, no more than three thousand, was unprepared for the soldiers there and found themselves ambushed when they left the forest and were immediately set upon with arrows. The man at the front, likely Victarion, cursed loudly and ordered a retreat to the boats. Wylis anticipated this and had sent a contingent of three hundred horsemen with torches to set fire to the ships. The ships were burnt and the men, with no retreat by sea, tried to head south to be met with the crannogmen, who attacked from the trees and killed many and more. By the end of the day, all that remained was a few highborn prisoners. Not among them was Rodrik Greyjoy, who had died in the assault. Victarion Greyjoy was pulled in, cursing and spitting at them. One of his guards was visibly wounded but not lethally.

He couldn't help but smirk. He turned to his captain and told him to muster the fleet, that they would join the Redwynes and Gulltown fleets.