United we Stand – Divided we Fall
I'm back with this chapter. It was written almost two years ago … time flies!
Hope you enjoy it !
Volume II Chapter 4
The Vale – Illness
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Old Anchor, 199 A.C., sixth moon, second fortnight
Fall
Two moons later
The skilful sailor entered the tiny one room home they had been given after a hard day of work on the docks of Old Anchor.
"How is he?" he asked Mina after closing the door behind him. It felt good to have warm and dry place to stay at. Outside, the beginning of a storm was pouring buckets of rain on the port town. The hearth was emitting a wondrous warmth.
He turned to look at Mina who was at Luca's bedside, dabbing at the boy's sweating forehead. For half a moon, Lucas was bedridden, barely conscious and babbling incoherently for half-moon already.
"The fever seems to recede a bit. He was able to drink a bit and eat a mouthful or two."
The wind blew against the small building and the rain that was hitting the wall was replacing by hail. Captain Hook thanked the Seven that it hadn't begun to hail down while they had been working on the boat's repairs.
"Good. Don't forget to eat either."
Since Lucas had taken ill, Mina had been at his side day and night.
Someone pounded on the door frenetically three times. The Captain looked at Mina surprised.
"Are we awaiting someone?" Until now, nobody had come to their house – and it had to be important if this person was making the effort to come to their door when a storm was blowing outside.
"No, nobody came today." Mina had grown quite a bit. At twelve nameday, she knew how ruthless their world was. She had learnt how to tend to the wounded and seen more than one man or woman die. She had come a long way.
The Captain went to the door and opened it carefully just enough to see who was outside. He recognized a young girl seven or eight nameday that lived in one of the neighbouring wealthier houses. He opened the door wider.
"Hello child. What can I do for you? Shouldn't you be with your parents?"
The little girl seemed scared, but not of him, despite his numerous scars.
"My mum… the baby is coming and the woman that my mum sent me to fetch is bedridden."
"I understand, but why do you come to us? Isn't there a midwife" But the Captain heard the answer he hoped to avoid
"She is ill. I didn't know what to do… but then, one of the men that arrived with you said Mina had some experiences with childbirth."
The Captain looked at Mina who had listened to the conversation. When Lucas had been surveying for Lord Roger north of Stackspear, Mina had indeed followed and helped a local midwife. Later, during their travel through the Riverlands, she had helped tend to injuries, in particular after the bloodbath at the inn.
He didn't know how, but the fact Mina knew enough to help a birthing woman had followed them.
What else of their past had landed on the Vale's shore?
The old sailor looked at Mina worriedly. Mina had never delivered a baby alone. She would be on her own.
Mina turned her head just enough to look in his direction and they shared a long look for several heartbeats.
They knew what was at stake. As long as the birth went well, it would help them to integrate themselves. But should the mother or the child die, or the child have a disability, Mina would be held responsible. Seeing as they were considered foreigners, it could very well lead to disastrous consequences.
The little girl looked at Mina expectantly.
"Please, my mum said she was feeling the baby coming.
"I'll come in a sec."
Despite the situation, the Captain smiled at Mina's word and her kindness. She had borrowed some weird expressions from Lucas. Besides, if they were to deny help, they would be treated as outcasts anyway.
Mina took a small package in a corner where she stored some herbs and left their tiny home, following the anxious girl to her home.
He didn't need to say he would look after Lucas. Mina had barely closed the door that he sat at his side. Lucas opened his eyes and smiled as he saw him.
"Hey son. How do you feel?"
"Better. But tired. How did it go at the docks?"
"We were able to remove the damaged parts of the hull without damaging it. Here, drink a bit" he held out a cup of watered beer.
As the evening went by, the Captain told him what had happened during the day and the previous one. As he went to sleep, the Captain thought back on the events of the last moons.
After the attack at the inn, they had helped the wounded. Mina and Lucas being the most knowledgeable, their effort had seen three wounded survive serious injuries and several lightly wounded recover quickly. But several men of their party had died nonetheless.
Lord Martin had been stabbed in the back several times and only Mina and Lucas quick action had saved his life - temporarily.
The outlaws had freed the volunteers for the Night's Watch. Most of them had chosen the Wall over the chopping block before joining the wandering Crows and they were more than happy to help the outlaws if it meant their freedom. As such, the dozen bandits had been almost sixty strong with the help of the recruits when the attack began. Against them were thirty-five unexpecting men of the Night's Watch or from House Darry.
The guards of House Darry had all been killed except two of them, seasoned veterans who had used their experience to survive.
The men of the Night's Watch, more used to unexpected attacks, had paid a heavy tribute, losing six men, but it would have been worse without Lord Martin, Ser Dameron and Arwyn. The raw efficiency of those three with a blade and the fighting experience of the Black Brothers who knew how to face an attack as a group had made the difference against the outlaws who had fought individually.
They had buried the dead and after several days, they had left the inn with the surviving wounded in direction of Antlers and then Duskendale.
Ser Dameron had been in favour of killing the men who had been sent to the Wall before rebelling. Meryn had delayed the decision until Lord Martin could take a decision. The latter had opted to execute the head of the outlaws as well as the outlaws who wouldn't take the Black. Regarding the men of the party that had taken arms again them, he ordered the rebels to be hung. As such, only the few who had not fought alongside the outlaws as well as most surviving bandits had been carted off to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
Sadly, Lord Martin hadn't survived the travel. While Meryn took the surviving Brothers and volunteers northward, a cousin of House Rykker was sent to Old Anchor to repatriate the former Lord's remains. Captain Hook's attendance had been required to explain what happened to Lord Martin.
Ser Dameron had given them a sealed letter for Lord Melcolm. Captain Hook had been surprised, but Arwyn – who had survived the fight without any injury - had explained Ser Dameron wanted to thank them for their help during the attack. Specifically Lucas' help, which had been critical.
As such, they had gone aboard the ship too. A vicious storm had almost sunk their ship. But they had made it to Old Anchor. Only to find the small city was in the grip of an illness that was hitting dozens if not hundreds of inhabitants.
Seeing as their ship wasn't seaworthy, they had no other choice however than to disembark and repair the ship.
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Old Anchor, 199 A.C., ninth moon, first fortnight
Winter
Lucas had completely recovered from the illness that had almost killed him. But in the meantime, winter had truly begun.
He wasn't the only one who had suffered under the illness in Old Anchor. Almost every inhabitant had lit under it, most surviving it, but some not – the sailors had however been heavily affected and quite a lot had died. Around a tenth of the inhabitant had perished.
Mina had been a bit ill too, but not as much as Lucas. The Captain, in turn, didn't suffer from the disease at all.
Meryn had set sails a moon ago with his men and the volunteers as soon as the ship was repaired. The three of them, on the other hand had decided that they would stay at Old Anchor, at least for the time being. After all, it had everything they wanted and the place seemed far more pleasant than the cold of the Wall.
The house where they lived had been a gift from Lord Melcolm to thank them for bringing back his uncle's remains. It was at their disposal as long as they wanted to stay – a generous offer they had gratefully accepted.
The family who had lived in it had been snuffed out by the illness. Nobody had wanted to use it, people believing it was cursed.
It felt wonderful to finally have a permanent roof over their head and to be free to live how ever they wanted – or almost. The smallfolk was very pious. The fact that the Captain was following the Seven had helped integrate them. Lucas wasn't a believer of the Seven but went to the service every seventh day along with Mina who seemed to be as enthusiastic as him about it.
Lord Melcolm hadn't disclosed the content of the letter Ser Dameron had given to the Captain, but it had helped, without a doubt. Captain Hook had briefly met him when Meryn had told Lord Melcolm what happened in the Riverlands. Even if Lucas didn't get to know him a lot, Martin Melcolm seemed to have been a good man.
Here, at Old Anchor, nobody knew about their past – except that Mina had some skills with healing. The Captain had been hired by different captains who wanted to repair or maintain their fishing boat during winter.
His skills, like on Blacktyde, were highly sought after. With the death of many sailors due to the plague, experienced sailors were scarce, to the point that the Captain had been able to save some of the money he earned by choosing which offer to accept.
Since his recovery, Lucas came along to learn about shipbuilding from the Captain. And there was no denying that the older man knew what he was doing. Lucas took great care, however, to speak only to the Captain as he feared that his accent would betray his birthplace. Unlike the Captain and Mina, Lucas was unable to erase any accent of the Iron Isle when speaking. So far, he had been able to avoid speaking directly with the locals.
The woman who was acting as a midwife at the village had accepted to take Mina as an apprentice. Luckily, the mother and the baby Mina had helped to deliver three moons ago were both in good health. But Mina had been the first to admit there were still a lot of things she still needed to learn. The middle-aged midwife was happy to have Mina with her. She had survived the illness but hadn't recovered completely; far from it.
Lucas had been too ill to notice at the time, but both Mina and the Captain told him that people had begun behaving with far more warmth since the evening where she helped their neighbour. It was definitively a positive point.
Besides, being a midwife would be very beneficial for Mina as that was always useful and sought-after. The downside was however that midwives were feared as a lot of legends accompanied them and their activities. From what he remembered, there were that quite a lot of women burnt in Europe during the Middle Age who had been midwifes and bonesetters. But for now, there was nothing he could do, except teach Mina everything he knew about germs and how to avoid blood poisoning.
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Old Anchor, 200 A.C., fifth moon, first fortnight
Winter
Old Anchor's highest tower
A fishing boat came up to the sand beach. Its wooden structure had the brighter shade of recently assembled boat. It stood out, not looking at all like the other fishing boats washed ashore. The lines of this boat were slimmer.
Three persons were in the boat. Two young boys were working together to stir the boat and fold the sails under the watchful eyes of the seasoned sailor and shipwright – not that Fearon Melcolm, who was looking south toward the sea with his morning headache, could distinguish them from so far.
The family seat of House Melcolm lay approximately one mile away from the sea on a small hill. It was a relatively simple castle. Its architecture was plain except for the gatehouse.
To the north rose the mountains, strong and impressive. The sun was shining on the snow-covered fields between the castle and the foothills of the mountain range. Their exposure to the south, the slight slope and the fertile ground left behind by the moraine were responsible for the fruitful harvests. The crops began to grow first here, in the Vale, thanks to the sea and the south exposure, warming the ground. His farmers were also able to grow at least one more winter-wheat harvest before winter too. Such an advantage, as well as the harbour, had been the main reasons why House Melcolm was historically one of the principal houses sworn to House Arryn.
But with the development of Gulltown, where the harbour was naturally more protected, Old Anchor had lost a lot of its trading volume. Less trade meant less taxes income. The Grafton had made wiser political alliances too. House Royce and House Grafton had purged the mountains from the Mountain Clans and were therefore safer. One more reason for the craftsmen to choose Gulltown over Old Anchor, thought Fearon.
The noise of the door frame behind him made him turn his head. Wayne, his steward, panted slightly from the effort of climbing the stairs.
"Here you are, my lord, I looked for you everywhere." The slightly overweighted man stopped speaking to breath. The guard on duty who was standing guard and watching from the highest tower their surrounding smiled discreetly at his steward. Wayne was known to dislike any physical effort.
"Take your time, Wayne, take your time. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, you know I like the point of view."
"You have the same in your solar, milord. Why you prefer being outside in the cold, where the wind sings, I will never understand."
Lord Fearon just smiled cynically over the often-discussed topic. Wayne had been trying for moons to help him through the pain of losing his beloved wife on her birthing bed, together with their unborn child.
Fearon changed the subject of their discussion as he walked to the northern side of the tower, further from the ears of the guard.
"Did you come to discuss the weather, Wayne? I thought you had too much work for such small talk?"
Wayne groaned with humour.
The two men were very different. Fearon Melcolm was a highborn of twenty-five nameday. He was slender and had a black goatee.
Wayne was two nameday older, had blond hair and hated anything related to physical effort. The steward was born in Runestone. His father was responsible of the larder and Wayne had been taught from his youngest age how to manage a castle's stocks.
Fearon had got to know him when he was a squire in Runestone and he had needed to prepare a trip with Lord Royce. Wayne's help had been invaluable, not only for the food, but for anything related to the logistic of any travel with a highborn Lord.
As such, when Fearon had become Lord Melcolm, he had written to Runestone not two days later to offer a place in his household to the young man. First at the same position than his father, later as the household's responsible and finally as his steward – an important position, even more so for a lowborn. But never had Fearon regretted his decision, even if it had displeased some of his vassals who had hoped their second son would get the position.
"So, tell me Wayne, what did you want to tell me?"
"Do you remember the carpenter who arrived several moons ago, with the men of the Night's Watch? With two children?"
"The Westerman who spoke with a strange accent. Yes, I remember well." Fearon disliked on principle all foreigners. At Fearon's nod, Wayne carried on.
"Well, they are the one who bought the small warehouse and a dozen pounds of salt."
Fearon frowned.
Salt was an essential mineral used to preserve meat and fishes for winter. It was expensive and buying such an amount had attracted his steward's attention. Wayne knew Fearon would have taken an interest in it as well, hadn't he been still lost in his grief over his deceased wife.
Seeing that he wasn't getting the reaction he expected from his Lord, Wayne went on.
"The carpenter built a fishing boat unlike any I have ever seen so far – quicker than one would expect – and they started to sell smoked fish. Being the one who fish it and smoke it …"
"… they avoid any go-between and earn more profits. I see, clever of them." Despite his current state, Fearon was able to quickly see the benefits.
"And the carpenter is a also a sailor, you say?"
"Indeed. Quite an accomplished one at that."
The lord of House Melcolm turned his head toward his steward with a suspicious face.
"Why are you telling me this, Wayne? Surely you have more important things to do than this?"
His friend gave him a small smile, one that annoyed him as he knew Wayne was feeling pity for him – as he did each time he saw him after he had drown his sorrow in alcohol.
"Not every newcomer can spend eight golden dragons in a few moons, at least not your common lowborn emigrant."
Fearon's annoyance vanished in a heartbeat, as the last of his hangover. All of a sudden, he was far more interested in what Wayne had to say.
"Eight golden dragon!?"
"If one adds the amount needed to purchase the salt, the building at the shipyards, the tools, trunks, ropes and so on? It amounts to at least seven, but more probably eight or nine golden dragon."
Lord Fearon was astounded by the amount.
"What did you find?" He knew Wayne well enough to know he wouldn't come to him with only a half-baked cake.
"The father is a skilful shipwright, an excellent sailor and is quite pious. He worked as a wheelwright, as you might remember, when he travelled with your uncle. The girl is thirteen nameday old, she helps the midwife and already delivered more than one babe successfully on her own. She works smoking the fishes her father and brother catch too. The boy is eleven. Although nobody heard him speak, he doesn't seem frail of mind, on the contrary. Nobody had a bad thing to say about any of them. As for where the money comes from, there is more than one hearsay, but nothing that makes sense. What his more, the two kids can read, write and count."
Fearon was silent for a bit, mulling things over. The girl working as a midwife… he suppressed his mauling thoughts and concentrated on something else.
"You said they built a boat. But how did they do it in such a short period? We are in the middle of winter, it's hardly warm enough to begin such a thing!"
"Indeed, milord. They bought one of the unused warehouses, repaired it a bit and used it to build the different parts of their boat. It was then put together in four days."
"Interesting, indeed. Why nobody thought about doing this, I wonder…"
"From what I understand, it takes a very skilful shipwright to build separately a boat and have it fit together seamlessly."
"And they live in this warehouse too?"
"No, milord, despite their relative wealth, they still live in the shelter you offered them when they arrived but they improved it quite a bit, it seems."
Fearon thought back to his uncle's ultimate letter. The one he wrote before dying. He had advised him to offer advantageous condition to the carpenter if he could be convinced to settle at Old Anchor and keep an eye on the young boy, writing he had a lot of potential.
"The boy's name, it's Lucas, right?"
Wayne seemed surprised he knew this. Fearon only let him nod before he went on.
"How well do they fit in?"
"Pretty good. They sometimes take the boy of a deceased sailor when they go fishing and employ an orphan girl with the smoking business too."
Fearon was silent for some time before speaking.
"Keep an eye on them, I'll try to learn more about them. They could be a boon and we would be stupid to let it pass".
Wayne took it as a dismissal. He was pleasantly surprised with his Lord answer.
Fearon stood deep in thought. Xenophobe he may be, but stupid he wasn't. He would know what these foreigners were hiding.
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Next chapter, we will learn more about Lord Fearon Melcolm.
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