Chapter 3: The Small Council
Titus II
We were greeted by Varys who prayed for Joffery's recovery, I snarked that he should pray for the boy's sanity. I saw Stannis wasn't here which was disappointing, there was no man I respected more than him. Renly was here, he was somewhat more selfish than either of his brothers but he was alright. Then there was Littlefinger, I have no idea why Cat is still friends with that sleazy shit. I took the seat between Stannis's empty seat and Ned's.
Apparently, Robert explained on the way here that I'm to improve the income of the kingdom while the Master of Coin would manage it. I suspect Petyr Belish would not like this.
We began business with the debt, a whopping 6 million, half of which is owed to the Lannisters and the other half to the Iron Bank. "How could we let this happen?"
Apparently, Robert had been a little too generous with the tournaments and their reward money. Usually, they are given 1,000 gold dragons at best but to have 80,000 let alone 10,000 as the reward money is unbelievable. Then there was the question of how many tourneys there had been since this would mean that Robert would have to do at most 75 tourneys for the past 14 years, most kings would have, at max, 10 for their entire reign.
Belish says we should make plans but that only made Ned stressed and caused a small outburst that he promptly apologized for. Varys says that they are here to serve The Hand.
I was given the standard, "We can't fund any tourneys or projects while in debt, we need to cut costs." There were many unnecessary costs, one was the stagnant and idle royal navy. We need to scrap some of them for some extra cash. There was also the fact that Littlefinger was the one who was in charge of managing loans so I'm a little intrigued if he had stolen from the treasury.
"There is no need, Lord Ironarm. We can simply send a royal decree that the debt owed to the Lannisters is considered gone." That is fucking insane!
"Are you insane? This is Tywin 'The Rains of Castamere' Lannister here we're talking about. You really expect him to accept this?" He had something planned, no man as smart as Belish would not say something so bold without some solid ground.
He smirked. "I believe I can convince him otherwise."
I sighed. "We will converse on this later, any other options?" I look around for any ideas.
Renly spoke his mind. "We could raise taxes but the lords would never agree to this."
"How much taxes do they provide each year in total?" I never really explored the administration capabilities of The Seven Kingdoms as I was more interested in the damm White Walkers. Now I regret doing that.
"Around 2000 gold Dragons or 60000 silver Moons a year, less than enough to even pay for the food." This was dire, and with Robert probably going to go ahead anyway, the Kingdom will head to ruin.
I need to consult with Robert later but for now, I need to have the Hand of the King. "Lord Stark, can you send word that all smallfolk be given their own lands, the ones with no owners, and preferably the ability to manage their own finances?" I saw many faces scandalized by such proportions. I really suck at opening offers.
Littlefinger was first. "Would it be so wise to give non-nobles such power, as well as to make several important lords quite angry?"
"I thought you would like this idea Littlefinger, for it sends us more coin?" He smiled but did not answer.
Ned, surprisingly, was very intrigued. "You would give the Smallfolk under the lords to have their own land? I suppose that could work in the North. I will need time to consider it." He had a thoughtful face on him, at least I convinced the North.
"I will need to write this down for you all, it may explain a bit better." I doubt Pycelle nor Littlefinger would be convinced. Renly would be moved if it gave him more power. Ned is already into it. Stannis would improve it. Varys is a wild card.
Ned cleared his throat. "Anything else?"
We then continued to talk about the plans for the tourney.
Later...
Huh, that was short. At least I can now meet with the merchants and tradesmen of the city. I had criers announce that all merchants, blacksmiths, and brothel owners meet at the Dragon's pit at separate times, first the merchants in the day, then the blacksmiths in the evening, and finally the brothel owners at night.
I had set up a few chairs, a dozen or more, in a circle, and waited.
The merchants were first, I asked what goods we export and imported: The main exports were mostly weapons and food to Essos in exchange for coin and silk. This won't do, I immediately told the merchants to find something that would put us on a more equal footing. They bring up many items of worthy mention, but the one that caught me was from a merchant from Highgarden, a psychedelic mushroom.
This drug as he calls can only be grown in cold caves with no sunlight, easily grown in the North. The mushroom will fascinate the consumer into a paralyzed blissful state for 2 hours and will cause a euphoric orgasm, okay now that last one was just gross. He asks for compensation for this information and the mushrooms he carries. I told him that the Iron Throne shall compensate the man once they got out of debt. The man was impatient and drew his knife to try and threaten me, I was quicker and sliced his hand clean off. "You should have been patient." I had two Gold Cloaks come in and arrest the man for attempted murder. He was still screaming in pain as he headed to the dark cells.
The other merchants were dumbfounded that I just sliced a man's hand off and sat back down. "Anything else?"
Amongst a few squabbles and disagreements, that was it. I issued that all merchants must pool their resources into many ships to spread out the cost, therefore saving money for all of them if one ship were to be shipped wrecked. They begrudgingly agree, even by working with their competitors, they wouldn't waste an opportunity to save money.
Next were the blacksmiths from the Street of Steel, they all were dirty and still in their work clothes. I asked how many swords can each produce, and from the many voices, I can gather that at least 10 blades a day per blacksmith, excluding everything else. I then asked how much each sword would cost, at least 12 silver for a good one which is enough to buy a week's worth of food for a family of 5.
"Where do you get the iron to make this?" With there being minimal trade with Braavos, a city with enough iron to build a literal wall of iron around King's Landing 10 times over, few deposits of iron were being discovered in Westeros thanks to constant wars and a highly centralized populace. I'm surprised we even had enough to maintain the fucking armies.
"Mostly from the North my lord." From the North he says? I had seen a few dozen wagons a year passing through Moat Cailin with mounds of iron ore. If not for the fact that Northern blacksmiths are rare, we would have enough plate armour for every Northman and Northwoman to fight in, with excess to spare.
They also had the problem of their apprentices having feuds with each other. Just last night two of them were involved in a brawl at a tavern. I couldn't have all of them arrested so I had an unorthodox answer to it, have a few group projects to get them to work together. What kind of projects I left to the blacksmiths but I did recommend that they try and make practical devices. The crown shall pay for any inconvenience, which I hope was cheap.
I had time before I met the pimps and madams of the city so I took a stroll on the coastal walls for a bit. The Gold Cloaks were obviously corrupt as I observe them leaving their posts and to the brothels, their poorly hidden coin piles, and the fact that some of them committed murder right in front of me. Renly has not been doing a good job as of late.
As I was walking along the walls, I noticed 3 ships from Braavos, as evidenced by their purple sails. I went down to the docks immediately, a trade deal with them would boost King's Landing quite well. When I got down to the docks I can now see it was a brothel madam that arrived, who was a follower of Azor Ahai-...are you fucking kidding me? They had been giving me so much trouble since the fucking wall was built, they burnt fucking children for god' sake!
I rushed towards her as she seems to recognize me. "Lord Ironarm, it is a pleasure to meet with you." She does a curtsy with a small smile on her face. Behind her were brothel workers and their equipment.
"Why are you here?" I answer coldly, I would give no such generosity to them.
"To do business, and no I do not burn children." My anger cooled down, what did she mean by that? "My little brother was first to go into flames when I was young, for then on I realized, to burn the young is to burn the future."
I scoffed, but I had to agree with her. "In that case, what business do you want?"
"In exchange for 10% of my monthly income, we will have protection from the Gold Cloaks and any 'violent' customers plus no interference in business." 10% for that? She has to do better than that.
"Make it 20% and we have a deal." If she wants protection from both the Gold Cloaks and crazy-ass clients, she's going to give me some serious insurance.
She smirks and raises an eyebrow. "That is, expected." She outstretches her hand to shake and I take it. "I will also be attending your 'meeting'."
I had the great opportunity to meet with King Robert, drinking some nice wine he has. I partake in the more water-downed 'Posca' that I had on hand. We discussed trivial things and such until we reach the topic of my first kill. Should I tell him?
"Come on, as king I order you to tell me." He chuckled at his unintentional threat. He stopped when he saw me grimace.
"I had never spoken to anyone about this. My first official kill would be some thugs trying to rob me when I went to get my mother something. But what haunts me still was my actual first kill, my little brother." The air grew cold and awkward. "We were practising with wooden swords, pretending to be great soldiers of our era. Father watched us and laughed in joy before I struck my brother on the neck with too much force with one lucky blow. He fell to the ground, I thought to myself 'Such great acting!'. I took a heavy swig from my drink and sadly chuckled, no amount of discipline can hold back my tears. "After we had buried him, my father told me it wasn't my fault but I knew, I knew it was." My first taste of bloodshed was a bitter one, but if there was any comforting prospect is that it taught me not to be reckless.
Robert nodded to me, "Were you two close?"
I could whisper "Yes." before I went into deep thought. The next hour was a blur.
later...
I met with Ned later and we discussed Robert's behaviour as of late.
"I like how he wants to celebrate your appointment, but by all the hells in the world why did it have to be so expensive?" We ate supper as we talk, some nice Northern Bass.
"Robert never had a mind for this, Jon Arryn gave him good advice he never listens to. He's a shadow of what he used to be." He looked quite gloomy, being the hand was a taxing job on the mind.
"Good soldiers never made for good kings." The only good ones were usually from the more humble backgrounds.
"We can't force him, that I know." Ned looks at me with weary eyes. "I doubt we can even last as long as Aerys, the mad bastard."
He was right, even as we speak there are already many who call the Baratheon King a usurper. The last of the Targaryen is in the far east enlisting the Dothraki for help, a dooming prospect. There was also word on the Ironborn acting up, mad cunts the lot of them.
Robert's rebellion was a justifiable cause, if not for the long term. Gods the battles I fought with my legions.
Years ago...
My men, a force of 5,000, met with a force from The Reach, of 20,000 men. It was in the open plains and rain had muddied the ground last night. They were in the way of me joining the main force. We actually bumped into each other by accident last sunset, we went through The Reach lands undetected thanks to a little bit of force march and the cover of darkness.
I went on the defence, knowing who lead the Highgarden forces, Mace Tyrell. A man whose head is pretty much empty, I pity him.
My scouts report that his forces are already marching across the muddy field, I look to my rear and yell out orders "Archers, Prepare bows! Infantry, square formation!" Short but loud whistles sing out from centurion officers as my men readied themselves.
The enemy marched across the field in a practised formation, banners in front. Judging by the majority it would appear that the Tarlys are the vanguard, good fighters under a sheep.
My formation was a square formation with infantry in the outer lines the archers in the inner lines with me and an artillery company of 5 light Ballitsas. Clay pots filled with a flammable liquid were flung at the enemy and spread their contents onto the horsemen and infantry. Archer fire followed by firing flaming arrows contained inside special arrowheads, setting ablaze the enemy forces in an all-consuming fire.
Their entire Tarly vanguard, who would only be trained to fight up close and would never think of fire in warfare, was almost routed but they held firm. The others, conscripted serfs and such, fled to the hills.
It left only the knights and Tarlys alone. They still trudge on as arrow fire poured from the sky. Their heavy cavalry charged at us with meagre results as they had to meet a wall of spears from all sides, some of the horses even refused to charge causing a delay behind them.
They retreated behind their infantry, who by now was spaced out and could not maintain a firm formation. Seeing a gap I called to my men to form a wedge, "Wedge! 1st battalion front!" The entire square shifted within a mere minute from its original formation to a wedge formation. The rest of the battalions soon followed suit.
"Advance!" A wall of spears moves towards their infantry at a steady pace. Soon our lines, if you call theirs a line, clashed and soon Reach Soldiers began to die in droves.
By the end, I lost 160 of my men for their 5,000, not a bad deal if you ask me. I had my men bury all the corpses, there is always a due to the dead to be paid. We say our prayers and leave southwards to join Robert's forces.
I went to meet with Tommen and Arya, who shared the same room as requested by me, easier for the betrothal. Cersei did not care, she was more focused on her precious Joffery, gods that sentence makes me want to barf.
I checked to see if they shared the same bed, something I knew will cause discomfort but it's tradition for the betrothal to sleep in the same bed if they slept in the same room. There was a clear divide between the room with Tommen's neat pile of books on a desk on the left side in front of a window while on the right was Arya's needle in a single weapon stand.
Tommen was busy reading books while Arya practised with her sword.
I let them be as I head to the meeting with the pimps and madams.
Later...
Huh, this was more hygienic than I expected. They were even actually much nicer than expected, some even brought their bastard children to learn the ropes, weird. I got straight to the point, a tax for protection against murders, rape, Goldcloaks, angry patrons; the works. Another thing I asked of them is to install proper plumbing in their buildings, no need to fuck in literal shit. They seemed to be fine with the last part, some were even willing to pay as they themselves have fucked in literal shit. At that point, it came to me that King's Landing was just made of shit in all fucking ways.
The bastard children that kept popping out of the brothels were to be used as cheap labour in most areas, the reason why they're cheap is that they are bastards. Seeing an opportunity to help them and gain more troops, I offered to have them into my Legions. On the basis that I gave them food, shelter and a purpose in life, they, in turn, become my Legionaries. While not great soldiers they would make excellent emissaries as well as doing more mundane tasks of cleaning and cooking, sparing my soldiers more time to train.
In the end, I think I was very successful at profiting from the brothels, in exchange for crown protection and proper use of the bastards. I will need to send some Centurions down here to pick up the lot on a regular basis but it will certainly boost my army, it's not like anyone else is using them.
Then the Red Madam brings up something that I would most definitely expect, the Faith of the Seven. There have been rumours of attacks on the brothels for decades, all of which have heavy and I mean heavy evidence to support it. However, the backlash would be incredibly huge. So I told everyone I will think about it and ended the meeting, then brought the Red Madam to my side.
I told her the only way to bring down the Seven would be to expose any scandal in their priesthood, the more the better. She promises to lend me the information if she has it. Knowing how prostitutes are basically the best spies you can get, it's the best offer I got.
A messenger came in as the Red Madam left. "My lord? The king wishes that you see him soon."
Later with King Robert...
"My lord, you called for me?" Robert sat in his chair drinking wine. His wine boy was Lancel Lannister, why the fuck did it have to be that name?
"I hear from Varys that you oppose the tourney?" He spoke more in curiosity than threatening.
"Just the cost."
He sighs, "It's for Ned, anything less would insult him."
"Ned does not want it like that, he sees it as an unnecessary expense. If you wanted to honour him why not just give him the damm title?" I put my hands in the air.
He puts his hand to his chin and thinks, and then he smiles with an idea. "Fine, but in exchange, you give one of your 'ideas'." He gives me a knowing smile. My ideas have great potential to fuck up if even a small detail were to go awry. That and it can also go horribly right.
I responded appropriately and calmly, "Oh hell fucking no. No, just about no. There is no way in hell that I am doing that-!"
"I can get you a barrel of freshly procured Dornish Coffee."
As soon as he said that, I was in. Ned will be a bit upset, but I get some goddam coffee!
All I asked was for one week and a spacious room. Time to do some shit.
A week later...
"So are you going to tell me where my Warden is?" A concerned Ned Stark asked his friend as the Warden could stir up quite a ruckus.
"Relax, I had him work up some new ideas to help the kingdom in exchange for lowering the price of the tourney." Ned stops dead in his tracks.
"How? The only times he would do that is if it was beneficial to the Stark family or..." The former was usually a better alternative than the latter. "Don't tell me you gave him Dornish coffee?" He never tried it but its effects on the Iron Wolf were a nightmare to behold.
"I know it makes him a bit mad, but we'll get some good ones from him from him." They entered the workshop that Titus was in and were caught off by the amount of shit inside.
A table was littered with all kinds of swords and axes in different styles, each with a distinct advantage. Along the walls were a dozen or so types of armour, plate, brigandine, mail and scale. Another wall was filled with polearms, either a poleaxe or a halberd. There were other items worthy of note, like miniature models of soldiers in all sorts of formations, a chemical station and other weird devices, but the one that takes the cake was the massive ship in a scaffolding. It was scaled down for demonstration purposes but was still massive.
The ship was like a floating castle with its multi-decks very close to each other compared to most ships, the front was only a few feet higher than the main while the rear deck was high enough for the captain's quarters. They would continue to look at the details but were taken aback by Titus waking up from the floor.
He did not look like his clean sober self and instead had unkempt hair, twitching eyes and bags under his eyes as well as a crazy wide smile.
Titus III
"My lords! Welcome to my workshop!" I smiled as I got off the floor. Last night I drank the entire barrel of Dornish Coffee, as always it was rich in flavour. The ideas that flowed through me were immense. "Sorry about the mess, kinda went way overboard last night. Let me show you what I made!"
He detailed to them the scaled-down ship with multiple sails and low fore and high aft castles, he called it a Galleon. Designed for trading and combat they will be great trading ships against any Ironborn raid. There is a severe amount of nautical terms that only an experienced mariner could understand, so the King and the Hand just numbly understood that this ship was a step up from a standard Cog or Bulk ship. Compared to a Carrack it had better rigging and a more pointed prow as well a whole lot more stable. He continues by saying it had the perfect deck place to put his new cannons. Following an awkward silence, he mumbles to himself, "Fuck I forgot to show you." he leads to them a more open space of decent length.
He then showed a small bowl of black powder. He explained that during the early Targaryen reign, he was finding ways to fight their 'impervious' dragons across the globe. At first, he thought of poison but that would require a significant amount of it that could be traced back. There was also just stabbing it in the eyes but that was of course just outright stupidly dangerous. He could just cause discord in the family but that is too much chaos for anyone, as proven during the civil war between the Greens and the Blacks. When he was in Bravos he met with a captain from the far east willing to trade this black powder for an explosive toy for the rich, Titus did not just see a dragon-killing weapon but also one that could change the knights' supremacy on the battlefield.
The powder was placed in an intricate pan and striker as well as into a very long stick with a hole at the end, which he also rammed in a small lead ball. He aims the weapon at a fine suit of armour and pulls a trigger. Coming forth from the end was a burst of flame and a small metal round that soars through the air. After some ringing in the ears, he placed the weapon back into its stand and walked to the suit of armour, with a massive hole over where the heart would be.
"This is actually an old import made by Aerys the Mad King believe it or not, who somehow got it from the Yi Ti of all places. It was mostly for decoration since he never thought of actually getting the powder." He had never been to the east of Essos, due to being just a bit too far. If he finished off the Night King, then maybe he can. But now was not the time for pondering, now is the time for practical application.
"Aerys? I shall not have a weapon made from that madman's hands." The Stag king spoke of his still raging wroth of the cursed monster.
Titus gave an amused look "Milord, I said he imported from Yi Ti. I never said anything about him making it."
Robert Baratheon gave a blank stare, "Right." was all he could simply mutter.
After that was an extensive account of some more weapons, some familiar, some foreign, but that was mainly a sideshow compared to the Flintlock that Titus made. He also had plans for siege equipment based around such a weapon. Robert and Ned shared a look, they may have changed warfare forever if this gets out. Even the simpler and weaker pistols have their immense advantage.
"Now that we are in a room with no prying eyes or ears. I need to talk about the tourney." He gave off a crazed and mad look, "Why is it so bloody expensive!" He shouted at the king who was taken aback by the shout.
"Well, you see I-"
"Wanted to celebrate Ned's position as the hand, sure that's great. But what isn't is the cost. Look, you either need to downscale this shit or grant me further freedom in expending income for the Crown. I know which you're gonna choose." He looks at them waiting for an answer.
After a stunned silence and opening and closing mouths, Robert nods "Aye, you will be allowed to do, whatever needs to be done."
"Good," He unfurls a paper drawing of a simple yet ingenious floodgate design "Ever heard of a canal?"
For the next few weeks, hundreds if not thousands of both large and small canals were created at key junctions to increase trade by boat. Boats were better than roads for the significant increase of cargo that could be transported, the lack of horses that needed to be fed, great protection against bandits and easily managed because there was no need for gravel. The 1st one to open within the month was between King's Landing and Grassy Vale, allowing large quantities of grains to be ferried to every hungry city. While smaller ones were being easily built in a timely fashion, we have only the time and resources limited to one other large waterway. The decision was made to connect Harenhall to Lord Harroway's Town.
Thanks to this wide but vital system, an increase in revenue in taxes and goods was noted by the end of the month. Just in time for the tourney.
Before the tourney, I found out Ned and Ser Barristan Selmy managed to convince Robert not to join in the melee since most knights would let him win. Shame, I would have loved to see Robert bashing a few heads in. I also revamped the melee to include an actual melee alongside the jousting. It will begin with a team-based fight and then a free-for-all for the winners.
There was talk about this and I got a say I am tempted to open a legal betting booth or something. Men like Jamie Lannister were intrigued while others like the mighty knight Garlan Tyrell hoped to hone their prowess. I had all weapons to be dulled or made non-lethal in other means to prevent deaths, this was a practised brawl, not an actual war.
The people of King's Landing practically came in droves to such an exciting event that I had to get my hands dirty myself and build extra seating. My 2 Centurions and some labours worked the whole day until the very second the tourney opened.
The crowd was ecstatic to see a brutal fight between knights not on horses. They get to actually experience what a normal battle is. Two teams of 50 face each other at a 50-meter distance, each yelling taunts and jests. I used my whistle to commence the fighting as the crowd cheered. On one side was a force primarily made of Lannisters and their supporters while on the other side were the Tyrells and their supporters. There were Dornish and some Crownland
The clash was loud as men began to beat the living shit out of each other without pause. I had a front-row seat actually being next to the muddy ring. I could that while some were trying to maintain a formation, others were in one-on-one duels. From 3 vs 1 to 5 vs 5, all sorts of mini-fights were happening in this muddy arena. 10 minutes later I see that the Tyrells were winning as most of the Lannister force either yielded or were too exhausted to fight.
Good thing I did not join the betting, already I hear a lot of groans and moans from the crowd. I hear whispers of betting on the Tyrells in the free for all. I could only hold in a giggle when I heard that. When the free for all began I must admit I did not expect Jamie to excuse himself from the fight. The clear winner then of course left Garlan to wipe the floor. The crowd was ecstatic and took it all in, I overheard that even some of the knights say that this was quite fun if albeit deadly with a misplaced blow.
After that fantastic brawl, I went to see the jousting tournament. I regret coming as I find the Mountain and the Hound fighting each other while Garlan's more pompous brother lay on the ground. From what I can understand from a dead horse and a mare in heat, the Knight of Flowers cheated a bit and enraged the Mountain, of course.
Thankfully Robert put a stop to it before it could get really bloody. It appears that he had some form of actual authority over the people, thank the gods for that. The Mountain stormed off while Loras proclaimed the Hound a hero, to which I can agree.
Other than that one incident was another, an argument between the King and the Hand over the last of the Targaryen in the far east.
It was a mixed bag, on one hand, this girl could be used by opportunistic nobles to claim the Iron Throne, but on the other hand, she is on the other side of the world married to a Dothraki. If by chance said Dothraki genuinely supported her claim, then that will become a serious problem. But that's why I have a few contingency plans. But a premature assassination is very much out of the question, we do not need to give her another reason to invade us. The probability of success is only hampered by the fact that she is on the other side of the ocean and in lands where we, especially Robert, have no influence whatsoever.
Even my contacts can only go so far without heavy investment. "From an economic standpoint I can not condone this, from a political standpoint I am a bit more mixed."
"Mixed how?" Robert arched his eyebrow.
I cross my arms in frustration, "The girl has the potential to rile up any still loyal houses to her cause or at the very least fund her survival, there are still strong sentiments of it in Dorne and some parts in the Reach. If her husband was genuine in the alliance that will need to be planned accordingly, I have some planned emergencies for something like this but it will be a massive undertaking nonetheless. Any assassin we send will fail, a quality assassin will be hard to find and with that distance who can say if they actually did the dead and not just lie to us? "
"So we just let her live?" Robert wasn't always good with rejection.
"Yes, unless she suddenly gains an empire." The Dothraki don't really count since they are incredibly prone to infighting, more so than the Westerosi that's for sure. "Either way sending an assassin now would most likely fail, we should hold it off until we actually know what her goal is." Of course, if we do know of her goals Robert will just use that as an excuse anyway.
He smacks his lips "Now, I hear we have people to meet?"
A wolf sporting gambeson with the Ironarm heraldry stitched into it walks through the streets of a big town surrounding one of the North's most fortified castle strongholds, second only to the wall. The wolf passes by street vendors and people from all over the world, even as far as Yi-Ti. The wolf sits patiently in line at a meat stall before the owner spots him. From what the wolf knew, the town had more meat than anywhere he could hunt.
"Ah, Bakely I was wondering where you were. Here!" The street vendor tossed a chicken bone to the canine who caught it midair. The dog walks by more and more stalls until it left the market district. Along the cobbled road, the wolf hears only the wind as it passes by the quiet religious district, they always gave him nice cooked food. Then he passed by the soldiers' quarters, some of his kids lived in the kennels here. After passing through he arrived at the entrance of his destination, 30-foot tall concrete walls and an iron gate.
Up a flight of stairs, he enters the most fortified castle in the land; Moat Calin. Passing by large thick walls that were extremely difficult to scale even with a siege tower, lightly scarred by centuries of war. It has since been turned into an administrative keep as well as the living quarters of Bakley's master. Following the same path he has taken since he was a pup he heads down at least 4 whole levels, light coming from overhead lamps for beeswax candles.
He enters through a specially-made doggy door to see his master at his father's desk doing his father's work. Bakely sleep on a small bed in the corner.
Kenton I
I scratched my head at all this paperwork Father left me, I didn't even know we had an orchard or a shed full of gardening tools to go with. I am no statesman like my father but I did manage to learn a bit in the public school my father helped create. I never realize how much effort he put into the North during his unbelievably long age, he practically sent us ahead in everything by at least a decade or more. Hell, he might send us centuries ahead if he could.
For me personally, he is the best father I could ever have, even taught me which whore house was the least disease-ridden though it was hard for him to even do that I must admit. The school he brought me to was at the time the first of its kind, a public primary school. For now, it just teaches people to read and write but it really speaks for itself when you notice the increase of literate and culturally focused populace contrasting the rest of the north.
Father did make a lot of enemies, mostly offended by the Essoi immigrants living and envy of the large wealth that he has built up through his long life. He especially made a lot of enemies here when he almost drowned Brandon the Burner in rage after he burnt the only Northen fleet. No one in the South would really believe he would be this old, save for a few individuals, but none can really deny his works in the North.
One such work was the overhaul of Moat Calin, after building the wall that stretched coast to coast. He turned the 3 towers into anchor points; the Children's Tower was cut in half and turned into a small church, the Gatehouse Tower had a basement built underneath to turn it into a store room and the Drunkard's Tower was rebuilt into a tavern. After that, he set up a village that allowed anyone to come, from both Westeros and Essos. Father formed what he called a village council where a selection of 10 men was to be voted similarly to the Night's Watch's election of the Lord Commander.
This council run the day-to-day tasks and duties of running a village, now a large town of 8,000. At some point, Father date's it around a century ago, the town was big enough to have districts, not as big as those in King's Landing but big enough. You have the normal districts like blacksmith's district, the market's district and so on, but there are more unique districts like the religious district which provided for the town's many religious needs and had the biggest library in the North. They can also mediate between different racial and religious parties as well as translators. There were at least a confirmed group of Red Priests who have taken up cooking to spread their faith.
Speaking of cooking, there was the cooking district on the western edge of the city that was heavily invested in by my father, providing no doubt with the world's best cooks. From stews to pies to snacks anything they produced would be the highest of quality and with the cheapest of ingredients, which is good since importing goods from the Reach is extremely expensive. My favourite is the Cod pastries they have in abundance. Furthermore, this is where Father established the world's first cooking school, with a surprising lot of insults from the Reach.
He also had a strong relationship with the Riverlanders, using them as middlemen to transport goods and such. He proposed using windmills to drain the lands but that was met with a polite decline as they preferred the swamps. Father didn't mind, it was their business. He did manage to teach a good number of proper wetland farming which most definitely increased their food output, enough that they could export food. Said export is very small but still an export.
Unlike most towns forming around fortifications, there was no need for a wall around it since the "Ironarm's Wall" existed, encouraging the village to grow alongside it. There was a rule that no buildings were to be within 10 feet of the wall which provided good space for cobbled roads.
The standing Black Legions are constantly training with competent and reliable Centurians that Father has recruited over the last few decades. The Centurians are encouraged to train the men in an unorthodox fashion, in one case they used wagons as improvised ramming devices downhill to break an enemy formation in another they managed to use themselves as a human ramp to get on top of a low wall. Honestly give them a problem and they give a solution.
The paperwork was mostly finances but there were 2 interesting letters that Father asked me to read. One was from him obviously but the other was from someone from the Free Cities. I read the first one.
My son, it is good to write to you. I am in good physical health though I can't say that for my mental health. I managed to keep my stress at bay by doing work, nonetheless, it is still there. You have no doubt heard word going around of the Tounry here, wasn't cheap I tell you. The amount of wine alone could set a man back for decades. Outside of that, there was the issue of the King himself, I knew that he was the only choice back then but times have changed. In the last 5 years, many nobles who lost a lot during the rebellion have started to regain their power, which meant they could stop worrying about themselves and start to become greedy goblins again. Even worse is the remaining Targaryens in the east and their Dothraki horde, god help us if they really attain a kingdom there.
Already I had to increase my own spy network to even keep up with a dozen or so plots in the region, let alone all of Westeros. I have no time for the Eastern regions, that is why I write to you. Consider this as a "Unique work experience". As the Warden of the North, I grant you the authority to requisition any of my standing Legions and resources to attain any foothold on the continent. Politically, economically or military I don't care how you do it, get our flag on Essosi soil.
Your forever-loving Father, Titus.
Dad, what in god's name are you planning? Alright, I hope the next letter has better news...has a weird seal. Wait, this is in my father's 'Latin'. I have no idea what kind of language is it but It did allow me and Father to have secret conversations.
Greetings Ser Kenton Ironarm, you do not know me but your father does, we're old friends. I am a person with unique talents that would be most useful to your father. If you are indeed reading this message then please send this to him as fast as possible.
May the light of Alexandria shine on both of you, The Macedonian.
What the fuck is a Macedonian?
End of Chapter