"You send too few men patrolling the High Road, Ser Tully, it's still our responsibility to ensure trade routes with the Riverlands are not overrun." Lord Nestor Royce said, and Jon could see the blackfish holding back a groan. He knew Brynden liked the man well enough, though he also thought the lord had no head for anything maritally related, despite his insistence on always giving his opinion on those matters.

"They are of importance, but the attention of the clans is directed at the Vale proper, guarding it remains my priority." Ser Brynden said.

"I understand that Ser, but we've not seen a caravan or merchant in weeks!" Lord Nestor said.

"I agree with my father," Ser Albar Royce interrupted. "Our holdings are not self-sufficient, we are in need of trade, and we are competing with the Westerlands, the Reach and the Crownlands for traveling merchants. and all three are far richer, if we sacrifice the safety of the roads leading here, then it will be no choice at all."

"That hardly matters if the Vale itself is not safe." Ser Donnel Waynwood argued. "Five hamlets burned to the ground in a month, two villages attacked, countless caravans lost, clansmen freely walking the roads raping and pillaging, we solve this first, then we worry about the safety of trade routes"

"That's a problem a hundred more men will not solve if we already have thousands in our parishes and holdfasts." Nestor said.

"The situation may be over soon in any case, Ser Robar Royce has written to me, he's assembling a large retinue of knights to hunt down the mountain men in the Vale, perhaps even journey into the Mountains of the Moon and find their leaders." Ser Donnel Waynwood said. "And Ser Tully has given me permission to join, I'll write back with my progress."

"I know, Albar has already asked me to go." Lord Nestor said, deflating his puffed chest. "I just worry."

"I'll be fine, father." Albar said, and Jon could see the striking resemblance between the two men, especially their sideburns. "They're savages wielding clubs and bronze, I'll be armed and armored with castle forged steel."

"I know that, but many a widow could tell you how well armor served their husbands against a thousand-foot drop." Lord Nestor said. "I've spent my whole life in the Vale, and it's the same story every few of years, the clansmen get bold and are put down, a dozen nobles and a thousand commoners die. I'm afraid it will be you or your sister in those stories someday."

"Uh, Ser Brynden?" Jon asked with a hopeful tone to his voice, all eyes turned to him, the knight's cold unimpressive look was answer enough, but Jon still needed to ask. "Can I join them?

"Has Ser Robar invited you?" he asked.

"I can make the case for him." Ser Albar said, Jon looked over to him hopefully. "None can deny his prowess, he would be an asset in any battle."

"No." Brynden said. "I can attest to his prowess myself and I understand you are almost a man grown, but I promised your father your safety, and I cannot send you off alone to face the mountain men, end of story."

"Then I will not allow it." Ser Albar said, "If he does not have your blessing, I will not allow my cousin take him on."

"I'll stay, I'll stay!" Jon said, raising his hands. He resented the suspicion, but figured it was warranted after his mystery knight stunt a year ago. "Wouldn't dream of missing out on all of these meetings."

"You'll have a lifetime to deal in death, boy." Lord Nestor said. "Such terrible business, I only wish that one day we might peacefully integrate them, as Baelor integrated the dornish."

The man truly has no head for these types of things.

"That's nonsense." Ser Donnel said, echoing Jon's thoughts. "Would you wed your own son or daughter to one of them? It'd be like marrying them off to a mutt."

"Now it is you whose speaking nonsense." The lord retorted. "They are hardly animals, if you were taken as a child and grew up among them, you would be the same."

"Enough of this discussion." Ser Brynden said, and both men huffed and looked away. "You may continue it in your own time, but now we must worry about feeding and arming our men with the roads overrun. We've enough nearby villages under our protection to feed ourselves, but we are running dangerously low on steel and burning through more than we receive, one in three shipments of metal from Strong Song and Iron Oaks are lost, what other sources of steel do we have?"

"We could send caravans into the Riverlands towards the Saltpans, but they will have to cross the High Road and it will be more expensive than the steel we get from the Vale. We could more heavily arm our caravans to Strong Song and Iron Oaks, but we are running low on men as it is." Ser Waynwood suggested. "I could also ask my Lady mother to heavily arm and armor a few caravans of steel and send them our way."

"Your mother has enough to worry about." Lord Nestor said, "Perhaps we could write to Lord Arryn to send us some caravans from the capital."

"All of these solutions are costly, which is acceptable given the circumstance, but they are too slow. We would not see our first ingot for weeks if not months, and that's a long time for swords to rust and horseshoes to splinter while our reserves dry up." Ser Brynden said. "For every clansman that's made it to the Vale of Arryn, five have died descending the Mountains of the Moon, if the Bloody Gates fall, they will pour through like ants."

The room went silent as everyone looked over the maps of the Vale, the Riverlands and Westeros strewn over each other, Jon thought of writing to his father but that would take longer than writing to Lord Arryn, he thought of personally taking the trip to Iron Oaks, perhaps even taking Domeric along, and bringing back however much steel his horse can carry, though that seemed like more of a day dream than a plan.

"Could we mine any of it ourselves?" Jon asked. "We're surrounded by mountains, surely they have iron in them."

"We do have the blacksmiths and furnaces to refine iron into steel." Ser Donnel said, stroking his beard and looking over the maps. "But they're not found in any old mountain, they're only found in caves or more rarely in open iron veins, I'm not aware of any mines near the Gates."

"That's it!" Ser Alber said, his eyes widening. "Do you remember that mine I fell into as a child, father?"

"What mine?" Ser Brynden asked, and the older Royce nodded his head.

"I do remember, back when Albar was a boy, him and his sister were visiting Willowbrook, and he found himself stuck in a mine with a broken leg after a piece of rock fell on him."

"How did he get out?" Jon asked, he knew of Willowbrook, a nearby quarry village he'd ridden through once or twice with Mya.

"Luckily Myranda found him, but the important part is, here." Nestor said, pointing at a point in the Vale that was rather close to both the Bloody Gates and the Gates of the Moon. "There used to be a small mining town near Willowbrook, but it was abandoned after a brutal combination of winter and plague left most of the town people dead, and seeing as the veins weren't rich and the roads to it perilous, the lord of Willowbrook did not reopen it, opting to focus on the more profitable stonecutting business."

"How does that solve the time problem?" Ser Donnel asked. "Rebuilding a village takes years."

"The mine is only a couple hours away, a small team of miners can get us enough iron to make critical repairs, along with whatever support staff they require, and we can expand or suspend the operation at any time."

"Fully establishing our own source of steel is a fine idea." Brynden said. "We would need to speak with Lady Eleanor, secure laborers for the mines, wood to rebuild the shafts, station and train more men to protect the village..."

"And the mine is close enough to our castles that major raids or attacks are of no concern." Lord Nestor continued. "It will be an expensive endeavor, but I think it will be worthwhile."

"Can I go there then?" Jon asked. "Help rebuild the mine."

"It is far more boring than it sounds," Ser Albar said. "It's just a collection of ruined houses and collapsed shafts."

"Besides, I'm far too busy to attend to this myself." Brynden said.

"I can go with whoever you send." Jon said. "I can help train the villagers or some such, do something outside the castle."

"Hmm." Brynden said, pausing for an awfully long while stroking his chin, then looked towards Jon with a barely contained smile. "Very well then, you're in charge of the project."

"What?" Jon said.

"Ser Tully?" Lord Royce asked. "Is this not too important to put in the hands of a squire, no offense meant young Jon."

Offense taken. He thought, though he didn't show it.

"Half of our commanders are leaving to join Robar and the other half are deployed across our holdings." Brynden said shrugging, then turned back to Jon. "The operation is entirely in your charge."

"I don't know what to do!"

"You'll learn on your feet; I think the responsibility will be good for you." Brynden said, then leaned forward. "Unless you don't think you're up to the task."

"I'm up to the task." Jon said, crossing his arms, much to the chagrin of Lord Nestor and amusement of the knights.

"Good, I'll be expecting the first shipment by the end of the week." Brynden said, sitting down to pen some a letter, before he handed it, as well as a heavy coin purse, over to Jon. "Dismissed, get Tylis to help you recruit some retainers from the castle."

He rushed out of the solar with more hurry in his step than he had all year, the servants and men at arms he passed gave him odd looks, but he ignored them, mind racing with who to bring along, what to do, how to even begin. Tylis will know a few men, I think Ser Roland respects me, but I don't know if he could abandon his duties in the castle.

Would he need to build houses everyone? Would this lady Elenor give him men for the mines? Miners that would also need tools to work with. And where does one find tools in an iron shortage!?

He stopped and closed his eyes, he found his hawk away in some wood, siting upon a tree branch devouring the carcass of an unfortunate squirrel, he pulled it away and sent it to find the mine in question.

He took the opportunity to catch his breath and pull open the purse he was given, it was stuffed full of dragons, enough to make his eyes widen, he attached it tightly to his belt and headed to the stables, reading over the parchment Brynden had given him.

By order of Ser Brynden Tully, Keeper of the Gates

The Lady Elenore of Willowbrook is to assist the holder of this letter, the Ser Tully's squire in reopening the mines near Willowbrook, this includes allowing him to operate in the hamlet while providing him reasonable assistance in the form of grain, men and tools.

This matter is of paramount importance to the security of the Gates and the Vale as a whole.

Seven be with you,

Ser Brynden Tully

The smell hay and manure hung to the stables like a familiar miasma, inside were the endless rows stalls, though unlike during the tournament, most were empty at this time, either on patrol, deployment, or otherwise in use.

"Jon?" Domeric asked, he had been attending his large destrier, a gift from his aunt he had explained, when Jon ran down the stables past him. "What's the matter?"

"I've a rather tall task and…" He said, then stopped in place and turned around to the other northerner. "Say Domeric, you wouldn't happen to be bored enough to take a ride with me, would you?"

"Depends on where we're going." Domeric said.

"The Blackfish has tasked me with starting a mine." Jon said, walking over to where Grey was posted. "I need to buy some materials."

"What?" Domeric said with a laugh. "Does he assign you such tasks regularly?"

"No, but I don't aim to disappoint regardless." Jon said, grabbing a saddle to throw onto Grey's back. "There's a river near here, if you ride downstream, you'll come across a sawmill, I can make a deal for some timber there, then we can recruit men for the mines on our way."

"Stop." Domeric said, pulling Jon back to his feet from where he had been securing Grey's saddle. "Did you plan this out?"

"In the ten minutes it took me to run here."

"So, you haven't thought it through at all." Domeric said, backing away to lean against the fence, his left hand brushing Grey's mane. "Explain situation to me, slowly."

"I can do that on the way—"

"No." Domeric said. "Take a deep breath, and explain it here."

"Alright." Jon said, he wasn't one for staying in place, but any kind of help was welcome, so he stopped and told Domeric of the iron shortage and the mine and his task.

"You can't go about ordering materials when you haven't even had a look at the mines." Domeric said. "And the two of us don't make for builders, we'll have no idea what to look for and what we'll need to rebuild it, we need craftsmen, stewards."

"Or Maesters." Jon said, rubbing his shin. "Maester Baldrick has the brass link of architecture, and the silver link for economics. He's fond of me, I could try to borrow him for the afternoon."

"Excellent, then you still need a way to gather laborers." Domeric said

"I thought we could ride through a few farmsteads on the way ask for third or fourth sons for the mines."

"Maybe in the winter, where they're only more mouths to feed." Domeric said. "But we are in the height of summer, rather close to the harvests, I doubt any farmstead could spare the manpower, at least, enough manpower for the entire operation, it will make grain cheap and plentiful however."

"I have an order for a lady of a nearby village to assist me." Jon said, unrolling the letter and giving it to the Bolton, who's eyes slowly studied it. "We can get the rest of the men from her."

"And that's why we stop and plan things out." Domeric said. "Alright, I imagine the blackfish has given you a few men from the castle?"

"Aye, Ser Tylis is meant to help me put them together."

"Then we recruit the maester and the men." Domeric said, turning his head to look through a small window at the sky. "And then if we still have daylight to burn then we can go to the town and meet this lady."

"I'll go get Baldrick, you go look for Ser Tylis." Jon said. "Tell him Jon sent you, he'll help you gather the men."

"Then we meet here in a few hours." Domeric said, nodding and turning away, but Jon called out to him.

"Thank you for the help." Jon said, but the other boy only gave a smile and left.

Recruiting Baldrick proved to be more difficult than he had initially expected, at first the man had been disappointed Jon had not come for another book, then he explained that he could not join them. The infirmary was swarming with men injured from fighting the clansmen, some were in comas, others were in critical conditions, and more wounded men could burst into the infirmary at any time, a ride out of the castle as simply out of the question.

He was however happy to give Jon a short lesson on architecture, so long as Jon helped him attend his many, many patients.

"You likely won't need much stone." The maester said, he stood over a writhing man with an arrow in his knee, he wrapped the man's thigh and calf together with a piece of cloth, then gestured over to Jon. "Come hold him down, this will not be pleasant."

The man's eyes widened, but Jon sat next to him and pinned his shoulders to the bed, soon he began to scream in agony, Jon tried to look away but what Baldrick was doing to his knee was not a prettier sight.

"It missed the bones and the tendons." The maester said, throwing the arrow aside and getting a bandage to stem the bleeding. "I know it hurts now son, but you'll walk again."

"I won't need stone?" Jon asked.

"Oh right." Baldrick said, dusting his hands and returning to his desk. "Stone's not likely to decay, if you're lucky some houses will have been built out of stone and survived. But most will have been built from wood and I don't imagine much of them could have survived, the mold will have had decades to fester under autumn rains and winter snows."

"So must we rebuild everything."

"As a last resort, if something structural has been beset by mold, otherwise you can just replace the wood in question." The old man said. "As for the mines, you'll likely have to replace all the support beams."

He continued to explain that the mold could be green or black, but poisonous if not removed, then as they moved through patients, he elaborated on the structure of most peasant houses, something Jon had been very unfamiliar as he'd mostly only seen them from a distance. He explained the materials they would need and in what amounts, aside from the rock and wood, they also needed thatch for the roofs, ever dwindling iron for nails and hinges, and materials which could be used as mortar.

"How many miners would I need?" Jon asked.

"Ten miners might get you a couple hundred pounds worth of iron in a week with the operation in full swing, but I imagine a castle like ours burns through far more than that every week."

"So, a hundred miners should do?"

"Depends on the mine Jon." Baldrick said, in the middle of brewing some ungodly smelling concoction. "If the mine only has enough shafts for a dozen men, then you would have a dozen miners and eighty-eight men watching them, besides, miners are harder to come by then you make them sound."

"Could I not take any farmer and turn them into a miner?" Jon asked.

"Ha, spoken like a true lord." Baldrick said with a laugh, taking the concoction to a man who looked more horrified by the smell than by his fever, but the maester forced it down his throat regardless. "Perhaps if you give them a few months and they have someone to learn from, but mining takes some knowledge, a skilled miner will know how to work safely, they will easily recognize veins of iron and signs of a cave-in, they would be as proficient with their picks as you are with your blade, it's a night and day difference."

Another thing to worry about.

"And you would need to feed them!" The maester continued, raising a finger with one hand and pressing his other palm into a man's forehead. "Ten men will burn through grain faster than you can imagine, especially if they're doing hard labor, a hundred men? You would need carts of grain arriving every hour."

"I would need a caravan master." Jon said, it felt like a kind of cosmic judgment after the time he spent mocking the blackfish about grain shipments. "Who else?"

"A stonemason and a carpenter for building, a cook or five to prepare the meals, a blacksmith to maintain their tools, you would also like a seamstress to sow their clothes, a hunter, a tanner, a septa but those are far less urgent, and I imagine you could rely on any nearby villages for those services."

Jon also stopped to pen a letter to his father while he was in the maester's company, as well as a short note to Mya he attached to Zephyr's ankle, though Baldrick gave the bird the same suspicious look he always gave his hawk, though today seemed to be different.

"Jon…" He said, finally stopping from his work to give him an odd look. "I've something to give you."

"It better not be a book." Jon said, seeing the maester moving towards the doors to the library. "I've had nothing to do for weeks, you can't give me something to read when I'm finally busy."

"This book will interest you regardless I think." Baldrick said, opening the doors and walking passed shelves of tomes and scrolls to the far edges of the library, to where it was dark as sin and dust clouded the air, he knelt, pushed past a few volumes and manuscripts and pulled a book out. "Most of the copies were burned, but an… odd grandmaester at the Citadel gave it to me, it's written by a maester who traveled north of the Wall to document the myths of the wildlings."

"Northern Myths and Legends by Maester Leo?" Jon read the cover.

"Keep it, and even if you won't find the time to read it for months or years… I think you should have it."

"What do—"

"Maester!" They heard from the next room over. "Where's the maester?"

And suddenly they were back in the infirmary, some hours later the two had gone through more patients and aliments than Jon cared to remember, but he felt as though he learned what he needed to tackle the mine building business head on.

As for the book, he went and left it in his room, alongside the majority of the coin the blackfish had given him, he doubted he needed to get to any of it yet.

Thank the gods Domeric was there to stop me. He thought, laying against a hay bale in the stables with his hands on his head, ignoring the odd looks the stable boys were giving him until he heard heavier, much more determined footsteps approaching him. Speak of the devil.

"Where the maester?" Domeric asked, coming to a stop next to him, behind him were half a dozen more men, Jon recognized a few of them from around the castle, none of them were knights or squires, only men at arms.

"He couldn't come, but he did give me a long lecture on mines and such while I helped him with some wounded, I think I should be able to examine the houses and mines for now." Jon said, then turned back to the assembled men behind them. "We'll take a couple of horses, rest of you prepare carts and mules."

The men grunted some form of acknowledgment and went about the stables to find what he asked for.

"How did the recruiting go?" Jon asked, Domeric helped him to his feet, and they moved to prepare their horses.

"Ser Tylis was a most accommodating man." Domeric said. "The men we put together are no great host but not a poor force given how thin the garrison is stretched."

"More than enough to protect a few miners, especially with me there." Jon said, turning to look out at the sun, it was past noon, but still far enough from evening.

"Are you ready to ride out?" Domeric asked.

"Still waiting for someone to join us."

"Jon!" He suddenly heard a high, feminine voice from to the side, only, not the one he was expecting, it was none other than sister Milicent running towards them, they both turned as the septa curtseyed and addressed Domeric. "My lord."

"Sister." The Bolton said, giving a small bow in return.

"Forgive me if I am intruding, sers, but Ser Tylis told me you were going to visit some hamlets in the area." She asked, to which the two nodded. "Forgive me again if I am burdening you, but could I ask that you escort me to Willowbrook?"

"That is where we're going." Jon said. "What business do you have there?"

"Their sept is without a septa or septon, heavens know how long they've gone without any ceremonies." She said. "And… I have family in the village and there's been no word from them in some time, I wish to make sure my cousins are safe."

"We'll be happy to have you." Domeric said to which she smiled widely, then he turned towards Jon. "Is she who were waiting for?"

"No, no, it's someone distinctly less feminine." Jon said.

"Hey!" He heard a voice call out from the other end of the stables, and he couldn't stop his lips from curling upwards when he saw her in her leather jerkin and breeches. "I'll just ignore your letters next time, you ass."

"Happy to see you too, Mya." Jon said, turning towards her, she gave him a small punch on the arm, but then she joined his smile and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, which he did return. "How have you been?"

"Myranda's ladies have convinced her they should wait out the attacks in the Eyrie, so my days are spent moving shit from up and down the Giant's Lance." Mya said, then turned to the Septa. "Forgive my language, sister."

"It's forgiven, my lady." Millicent said. "I don't imagine making so many hikes up the mountains is easy."

"And who's tall, dark, handsome?" she asked, giving Domeric a look which did successfully make him blush.

"I'm Jon." Jon said, laying a hand on his chest, and earning another punch. "But this is Domeric Bolton, he's been a help, Domeric, this is Mya Stone."

"My pleasure, my lady." He said. "Is she coming with us?"

"Of course, she's going to be organizing the caravans."

"Ha, I wish, but there too much work at the Lance, I doubt Myranda will let me go."

"Consider yourself conscripted." Jon said, waving her off. "Our task is of vital importance to the Vale, assigned by the blackfish himself, and we are in need of your skills."

"Really?" she said, raising an unimpressed, but amused eyebrow.

"None of that is a lie." He said. "But the truth is, this is going to take weeks if not months of work and I want you there."

"That's better." She said. "Get me a signed letter from the black— actually, just tell her the order came from the blackfish, she'll believe you."

"I am sure Brynden will love me using his name like this." Jon said with a smile. "I'll go talk to Myranda, prepare the carts with the rest of the men, we'll leave in twenty minutes."