Chapter 21
Sea Dragon Bay, Early Second Moon 285 A.C., One year, three moons later…
The cold, murky waters of the bay rush past us as we swim, the first light of dawn breaking through the horizon. I hear a series of clicks from the pod of orcas, out on the hunt as the dawn's early light trickles through the top layer of the sea. A series of high pitch squeals and whistles from the alpha female that I vaguely translate as basic marching, or rather, swimming orders. The pod of eight planning to coordinate to bring down much larger prey than usual. I'm still a passenger in the orca but it feels different than the previous times. Whereas before, I was a passenger forcibly strapped to his seat, now I'm unstrapped passenger. I still can't control any movements but my interactions with the driver are noticeably easier through our little mental pokes, the name given to the mental images and emotional vibes we send between ourselves. I hear a louder whale sound and look over to see a female humpback whale with her young calf. I look up to see the silhouette of rowboats above us towards the shore and hope the first cooperation between man and orcas, or spotted whales in this world, will be successful.
It took some time to convince the driver, now on the cusp of maturity, of the idea of orcas and humans working together to bring down larger whales and splitting the kill. It took even longer for the driver to convince his pod of the idea. It turns out all the orcas want is the larger whale's tongue, similar to how some orcas on Earth only eat the liver of a shark and nothing else.
The humpback brings her calf closer as the orcas circle around her, cutting off any escape routes except up towards the surface and the shore. The driver and three other orcas surge forward to attack the humpbacks from multiple angles. The mother lashes out with her large, powerful flippers covered in sharp barnacles, that the driver barely dodges as he swims towards the calf. He sharply turns right to avoid a massive tail swing down, retreating from the humpbacks before circling back for another run as I notice the prey slightly closer to both the surface and the shore than they were previously. After a few feints and one actual headbutt on the side of the mother, the driver and three other orcas attacking halt their attack once they hear a sharp click from the alpha female and immediately fall back to the alpha as the four orcas next to her surge forward. The driver and his companions wait by the alpha while the orcas that left immediately harass the humpbacks.
It takes me a moment to realize what the orcas are doing. They're executing a relatively complex hunting strategy where half of the pod attacks and harries while the other half stays back and conserves energy before switching, allowing the orcas to be relatively well-rested compared to their constantly struggling prey.
I see the strategy play out as slowly but surely, the humpback mother and her calf are herded by the orcas towards the shore before finally breaking the surface. The moment the mother humpback breaks the surface; the rowboats set upon her like a pack of wolves on a deer while the calf swims close to her in panic. I don't just hear, I feel the vibrations of the agonized wail the humpback lets out as she gets speared by the whalers above. The alpha orca gives a sharp click and the pod rushes forward, attacking both the calf and the injured, distracted mother with headbutts. After a few minutes of struggle and high-pitched wails, both are dead. The orcas immediately begin attacking the dead calf, prying open its mouth and ripping out it's soft tongue to be devoured by three different orcas. The calf's corpse is left to be hooked into by the rowboats to be dragged to shore. The driver swims over to the mother humpback corpse where the alpha is tearing the tongue out of it's mouth with the whalers waiting patiently for her to finish. Once she tears off the large tongue, she swims away, leaving the humpback corpse for the humans to begin harvesting the baleen. The pod cheers in whines and clicks and move to each take bite of their prize. The driver takes a bite and I can taste the whale tongue, which tastes surprisingly like wagyu beef if it'd been soaked in seawater.
I ask the driver to see the surface to view get a view of the whalers above. He sends a questioning poke through the mental curtain, asking what the humans are doing. We break the surface and I see three rowboats of men desperately carving up what they can from the humpback's carcass as it slowly floats towards the shore. Priority is given to the whale's mouth for whalebone or what they called baleen, the bristle-like "teeth" of whales like humpback and blue whales. Then the blubber and oil for lamps and lastly, meat for food. I send a mental image of humans eating whale meat, using bone for carvings and tools, oil for lamps, and now I'm making whalebone corsets. The driver seems to understand eating the meat and using the bones as tools but not the concepts of oil, lamps, or corsets. He swims away from the humpbacks with the rest of the pod and I'm pleasantly surprised that this ended up working as this opens the door for the local whalers to hunt larger whales if all the orcas wanted were the whale tongues and nothing else.
"…Hugo…" I hear faintly in the distance.
"…Hugo…" I hear again, this time saying my name frantically.
"…HUGO!" I suddenly open my eyes and find myself in my bedroom with a worried Myrra in her nightgown looking down at me. The morning light filling up the bedchamber.
"Are you alright!? You wouldn't wake up!" She says, words laced with concern.
"I'm fine, Myrra. Sorry to worry you." I give her a weak smile.
"Your eyes were milky white. You were skinchanging again, weren't you." She says with a sigh.
"Aye, I was. Still unhappy with your husband being a 'demonic sorcerer'?" I grin when she rolls her eyes playfully with a small smile.
"I've made peace with being married to one. But I don't know if I can handle the twins or Stannis being one." She frowns at the thought of the twins or our second son, born in the first days of the year, inheriting my gift.
"I don't know if they'll be skinchangers, it seemed to skip a few generations in the family." I sit up.
Myrra mirrors me by sitting up. "What were you doing in the spotted whale?"
"Getting a pod of spotted whales to work with whalers to kill a humpback near the shore." I respond as I get out of bed. "It's on the beach between the castle and the city so you can see it from here."
"A humpback! Whalers are rarely able to kill whales that large!" Myrra exclaims.
"I know, usually we can only harvest large whales by waiting for them to beach. But now, we can get more whalebone for corsets!" I start my morning stretches, facing the window of foggy glass and smirk when I hear my wife fall back on the bed, letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Ugh! I've been receiving countless letters from ladies trying to get their hands on a corset ever since Princess Cersei and the queen wore the ones we sent them at a tourney! She wrote to me boasting about the jealous looks she was getting from the other ladies of the court. If the number of letters is any indication, it would seem that the ladies are quite jealous, indeed." She complains.
"Where are the letters coming from?" I ask, finishing my stretches.
"Mostly from Crownland, Stormland, and Westerland houses with a few from the other kingdoms except for Dorne." Myrra says as she gets out of bed.
We hear a soft knocking on the door and my wife tells them to come in. The door opens to two maids who've come to dress Myrra. She allows herself to be dressed in a blue dress while I dress myself in a black and white tunic because I'm a grown-ass man. I half listen to Myrra gossip about her friend Lady Jeyne Grafton being pregnant with her fourth child and how her other friend Lady Sybell Westerling used the corset she sent to seduce her husband as I get ready for a meeting with my advisors…
Later…
I sit at the head of a small table with my version of a small council in front of me in a room dedicated to meetings like these. A familiar scent waifs through my nostrils as I hold a teacup of a black colored liquid brought over by the Summer Islander-run trading post in Wolfsport. I take a sip, savoring it's bitter taste before adding a spoonful of milk and a dollop of honey. Sugar is still too expensive, so honey is used as a sweetener for my coffee and I see the other occupants add milk and honey to their coffees.
I remember Wyman telling me about trying a bitter, black drink that gave him increased energy called kofi. Unfortunately, he didn't bring as coffee beans back but at least he brought back the rice seeds. My thoughts are distracted when I hear a loud squawk, my eyes darting up to the ceiling. I spot Scarlet, the imaginatively named scarlet macaw Wyman brought here from the Summer Islands, perched on a support beam looking down at us.
I glance up at the occupants of the table. Maester Armond, my master-of-arms Commander Donnel, my mother as my master of laws, Myrra as my master of coin, Wyman as my admiral and Castellan Martyn. Dagwell, my Master of Whispers is still in King's Landing, running the Wayfinder's Guild, sending talent to Wolfsport, and collecting what information he can in the capital.
"Alright, let this meeting begin! Martyn, the first snows of winter are upon us, how's our food situation?" I immediately ask my castellan the most important question for any Northern lord on the eve of winter.
"Have we received a white raven from the Citadel announcing winter already?" Myrra asks in confusion.
"No, but something you will learn is that winter starts and ends two to three moons before and after the Citadel sends out the white ravens. We Northerners can feel it; winter is upon us." I explain and see my fellow Northerners nod while Myrra and the maester from the Stormlands seems to accept it.
Martyn smiles. "Better than any previous winter, my lord. Of course, we don't know how long or how harsh this one will be, but all granaries in Sea Dragon Point are full, even the additional ones you ordered built in Wolfsport, Amber Hill, Flatmire, and Stillport!" He reports, leaving the table stunned by the results.
"How much of it was my farming inventions and how much was imported?" I ask, curious to see the breakdown.
"While Sea Dragon Point has never had great farming land, your inventions, in the hands of half our farmers, managed to nearly double our total crop yield! That being said, most of the grain was imported, albeit less so than previous winters, mainly from the Riverlands, Westerlands, and especially Oldtown,." The Castellan explains before my mother cuts in.
"We may have imported less grain ourselves, but we haven't been letting that deal with the Hightowers for cheaper grain go to waste. Buying more to sell to nearby houses not only makes us a nice bit of coin, it helps them prepare for winter, thus deepening ties with our House." My mother adds and the advisors at the table nod their heads.
"How has the rice cultivation gone? Were we able to harvest any near Stillport or Flatmire?" I ask about the rice seeds planted in the bogs and marshes of Sea Dragon Point.
"The attempts to cultivate this 'rice' have been mixed. The bogs near Stillport were a failure but the marshes east of Flatmire were successful and we were able to harvest a whole crop of rice before winter." My castellan explains and I nod slowly.
"Not ideal but it can't be helped. Rice, if kept dried, can last for years so we will expand cultivation come spring." I say and turn to my maester.
"Maester Armond, how is the progress of the road?" I move on to the next topic.
"We've completed six leagues by the end of last year and another one-and-ten leagues this past year. A total of one-and-fifty miles has been paved, right up to the edge of the Wolfswood." My maester reports.
"That's good to hear Maester Armond. Obviously we'll stop construction for the winter, but how much of the Wolfswood have we prepped for the coming spring?" I ask.
"Out of the three-and-thirty leagues of forested trail left in our lands, we've prepared nearly half. We've also prepared the entire route from the Wolfswood Trail to Stillport, but won't be able to start construction until spring." Maester Armond answers.
"How much of the trail have the clans and House Stark gotten done?" I inquire.
"The three Wolfswood clans on the trail have each prepared four-and-ten leagues and House Stark has prepared ten leagues but has only paved three. Apparently, Lord Stark made a deal with Lord Cerwyn to prioritize the paving of the Kingsroad down to Castle Cerwyn, but plans on focusing on the trail when spring arrives." The maester pauses to take a sip of coffee. "At the current rate of construction, by the time we complete the road in our lands, the clans should have most, if not the entirety of the trail in their lands prepared and Lord Stark should have the road constructed on at least half of the fifty leagues of trail in his lands."
"That's fantastic! The preparation done by the clansmen alone will save us a year of work and Lord Stark building the road from his end will hasten the road's completion at least another year!" I exclaim. Despite the onset of winter halting further construction, I feel optimistic about the road's construction. Much of the preparation in the Wolfswood is finished and the quickstone kilns constructed in Amber Hill, Flatmire, and Stillport increases production of the building material while easing the logistics. When spring arrives, we should be able to complete the main road in our lands in two to three years and with Lord Stark and the three clans also constructing the road, it could be finished within two to three years after that.
"Are there any other developments in road construction?" I ask my maester.
"Well, Lord Glover completed the paved road from Deepwood Motte to his small port and in the New Gift they just barely completed the road from Queenscrown to the Kingsroad." He finishes.
"Aye, Lord Glover has written about the possibility of a Deepwood Road running from Deepwood Motte to the Wolfswood Trail through the Moss and Branch clans. As for the road in the New Gift, Lord Stark made building it the priority. The tower expansion and village walls will wait until spring." I say and take my own sip of coffee before turning to my wife.
"Myrra, how's our perfume and new soap businesses going?" I ask her. Myrra had settled in well as Lady of Sea Dragon Point and asked me for more responsibilities, so I decided to have her oversee both the perfume and new soap businesses being run by the perfumer from King's Landing. This created the added benefit of reducing my workload as she took to the task with relish.
"Well, after Clarence the perfumer brought his three siblings and their families from the capital to work here, production has doubled for perfumes! Purchases remain strong in the North, Riverlands, Westerlands and the Reach, but weak in Dorne, the Stormlands, Crownlands and Vale. The crowded markets in the Summer Islands and Free Cities means our perfumes have sold in low numbers, as they face stiff competition from local and imported perfumes. The exception is Lorath, where our perfumes have sold well, especially after the Royal Trade Company established a trading post there. The Braavosi merchant who buys in bulk from us says the perfumes are popular in Ibben too." Myrra reports and I smile.
"Aye, they established it after they made a deal with Braavos to allow them to trade in the Shivering Sea in return for cheaper Northern lumber. And thanks to my friendship with Prince Stannis, the two trade companies are sharing their trading posts, giving us access to the trading posts they set up in Lorath and Ebonhead." I say, not mentioning Prince Oberyn's Southron Coast Trading Company that's trying to cut into both companies' trade and the trading post they set up in Last Lament, letting her continue.
"I've already told you how the corsets are doing but the new soap you've made is much better than the lye soaps we currently use and we can begin production now that the test batches have proven successful. We've also begun experimenting on scented soaps, which should be popular." She continues her report.
"Great! The scented soaps can be sold to the highborn, the normal bars of soap can be given to the smallfolk into increase their hygiene." I respond and ignore the eyebrows raised at the word "hygiene".
"My lord, giving away large amounts of soap will be expensive until we can increase production enough to lower the cost to make them." My castellan argues.
"If we must give away at a loss than so be it, House Seastark's treasury is fuller than ever and we have reduced taxes. The spread of soap to the masses, combined with the Cleanliness Edicts and the new sewer system being built will not only make Wolfsport a cleaner and more pleasant city, it will reduce disease and make our smallfolk healthier. Besides, we'll only give away at a loss for a little while until we increase production enough to lower the price of the scent soaps we'll sell to the highborn." I say determinedly. "Speaking of which, how is the sewer system going?" I ask my castellan, who seem to begrudgingly accept my position.
"The sewer system is about a quarter of the way done with Lord Tyrion helping to oversee his share. Smallfolk have been complaining about the interference on Market and Wolf streets. Winter will slow the progress, but we should hopefully have it done by spring. Lord Patrek is due to take over his quarter of the sewers." Martyn reports, mentioning the role my fosterlings are playing in the sewer system's construction. I'm having them help me oversee a quarter of the sewers each to teach them not just how to construct and maintain a sewer system, but to give them some administrative experience. Tyrion took to the task like a fish to water, paying close attention to the meetings and reports and asking sharp questions about the construction. I slowly had Tyrion take up more and more of the responsibilities like talking to the foremen, something that made him nervous at first, but as the moons went on, he grew more confident with dealing with other people. Patrek Mallister, though not as sharp as Tyrion, is certainly not dim-witted and has an interest in learning about how a sewer system is constructed because his grandfather wishes to construct one in Seaguard.
"Good, we're still on schedule. Wyman, how's the clippers and the Sunset Fleet?" I turn to my cousin.
"We've constructed two more galleys and now have five clipper ships and will have a sixth one ready by the Director's Meeting in Lannisport in six moons. When the trade fleet leaves for Yi-Ti, we will send five clippers to the Mallister and Hightower's one and Lannister's two but what do you want done with the sixth clipper?" Wyman asks me in confusion.
"Edric will take the sixth one and sail to King's Landing, picking up Dagwell for an expedition to Ibben, stopping in Braavos and Lorath on the way. The Ibbenese have shown interest in our perfumes and I want to get schematics for their whaling ships. I'm sending Edric and Dagwell to attempt to trade with the Shadow Council, or at least someone on the council, for the secret to large whaling ships, the kind that will allow us to truly go after the larger whales like Leviathans. Both will have my full authority to make any deal he deems sufficient." The table looks at me stunned. My mother is the first to speak.
"But Hugo, he's only four-and-ten! Not to mention pirate attacks in the Stepstones have been on the rise and you would have him sail right them!"
"Aye, and he'll turn five-and-ten right before the trade fleet launches, he'll be on the cusp of manhood when he sets forth. I'd send Wyman, but I need him with the trade fleet to Yi-Ti. As for the Stepstones, I have it on good authority that the Royal Fleet will be launching a punitive expedition to the Stepstones to bring the pirates behind the recent attacks. Pirates who happen to be located on Sunstone, in the path where Edric and the Thunderbolt will sail, at the same time." I explain to my mother.
"Your good authority being Prince Stannis?" My mother snorts and I nod.
"Plus Edric has gone on my most recent trip to the Summer Islands, so he has some experience with a clipper crew." Wyman cuts in.
"Commander Donnel, how are the fortifications on the shoreline going?" I ask the hardened veteran.
"Five have been constructed between here and Stillport, the mix of wood, stone and concrete made them cheaper than they would have been. All five stationed with horsemen within a day's ride of at least one village, with more are planned to be constructed in spring. Three have been constructed on the eastern shore, less to protect from wildlings and more the Ironborn presence in Cape Walrus." My master-of-arms states matter-of-factly.
"How large has it gotten? It was a small lumber camp last we checked a few moons ago." I ask, dreading the answer.
"We don't know how large for certain but it has grown. They're harvesting as much wood as they can and from reports from the Night's Watch, they've already pushed out the local wildling tribes from Cape Walrus. Shadow Tower has even reported sightings of Ironborn longships sailing up the Gorge." The master-of-arms' words stun the room.
"They're sailing up the Milkwater!? How!?" I exclaim in disbelief.
"The Gorge is too small for galleys but for longships, especially the smaller ones can squeeze through the Gorge and weave through the rocks." Wyman explains and I scowl.
"Balon must be truly desperate to build his Iron Fleet if he's reaving the Haunted Forest for timber. And this is after the Lord Mormont's raven a few moons ago." I see the table grimace at the second sentence.
Three moons ago, an autumn storm ripped through Bear Island, three days later, the wreckage of a Ironborn longship washed up on its shores. This normally wouldn't be a noteworthy thing. The Mormonts checked for survivors and found none and when inspecting the wreckage they stumbled on a disturbing discovery. It was a backstaff. What made it more disturbing is that it wasn't stolen because each backstaff made by the Wayfinder's Guild has it's sigil, an eight-point wayfinder, carved on them. This backstaff didn't have that carving, which means either someone is copying and selling them to the Ironborn illegally since they are under the monopoly of the guild. Or, even more disturbing, they got their hands on one and figured out how to produce their own. Then again, it wasn't like a backstaff was all that complicated, even an Ironborn could copy it.
"What about the scorpions for Wolfsport?" I change the subject.
"We've constructed three and are on schedule to complete ten more by the end of next year to be stationed on the seawall in Wolfsport." He finishes his report and I nod.
"Good. Mother how is the education in the orphanages going?" My goal with that program is teach letters, numbers, and a very basic education to orphans to produce future bureaucrats, whether for House Seastark or the Sunset Trade Company. The ones who aren't as good at bureaucratic tasks will be pushed to be either men-at-arms, Seawolves, or an artisan profession such as blacksmith, with House Seastark paying any apprentice fees.
"It's going well, the first students are learning their letters and numbers along with other subjects such as the history of the North and identifying house banners. At the very least, we will gain some scribes and men-at-arms from this education." I smile at the progress. I couldn't set up any universal schooling, or at least any time soon, but I could at least start with the orphanages to create a larger pool of educated labor. I finish my coffee.
"The orphanages have seen an increase in young babes, in fact all of Sea Dragon Point is seeing an increase in children being born due to your forceps. Most of the midwives in our lands have been using forceps for the last three years and the ones who haven't want one. We've been getting midwives from as far as Deepwood Motte and Fisher Hall seeking to purchase them." My mother praises the simple but revolutionary tool that lowers infant mortality.
"That's wonderful mother! It heartens me to see to forceps saving so many mothers and babes! Especially after it saved Elsa and little Arsa." I exclaim and Wyman throws me an appreciative look.
I'm ecstatic at the news of a small baby boom happening in my lands as lack of population has always been an issue in the North. The land is roughly the size of Brazil with somewhere between four and five million people, with the Riverlands and the Vale each having roughly the same number of people in a fraction of the land showing just how sparsely populated it is.
"Maester Armond how's the saw mill and ironworks by the river doing?" I ask about the major projects on the Salmon River outside of Wolfsport.
"The saw mill is producing twice the lumber of a normal sawmill. The use of multiple new circular saws as a "gangsaw", powered by a water wheel, means you can rip cants into multiple finished boards in one go saves a lot of time. The only drawback is the circular saws are expensive, difficult for a blacksmith to craft and the sawmill requires one on hand just to file it when it gets dull or fix it when broken." The maester finishes his cup of joe before continuing.
"The metalworks are producing large quantities of wrought iron, with your larger, improved blast furnaces producing more pig iron than our current ones and your new puddling furnaces converting it into wrought iron. It currently produces thrice the amount of wrought iron our current furnaces can and the quality is better due to using the coal discovered in Stillport. You were correct that coal works better than charcoal in heating the furnaces." Maester Armond reports, mentioning the coal deposit discovered northeast of Stillport seven moons ago during a survey looking for coal and oil. If any oil exists in Sea Dragon Point, we haven't found it yet, but at least the Stillport coal deposit has decent quality coal. The fact that it's close to Stillport makes transporting it to Wolfsport fairly easy and I'll be sure to include an extension road to the coal mine when we pave the road from the Wolfswood Trail to Stillport.
"And the steel furnace? It should be finished heating the third batch today and starting cooling for two-and-ten days. The first two batches may have been too brittle to use, but I'm confident we'll get the cementation process right this time. We learned much from the failed batches, on how to properly seal the iron to how long and hot the fires must burn." I ask about the final part of the metalworks facility outside of Wolfsport on the river.
The steel furnace built is based on the Derwentcote Steel Furnace I visited once when I vacationed in northern England in another life, only on a larger scale with a larger output. While I had wanted to introduce the Bessemer process to my lands, the problem is that a Bessemer steel converter is still too advanced for what we could build now. But a cementation furnace, that's doable. It wouldn't produce as much steel or as quickly as the Bessemer process, but it was still leagues above anything that Westeros has.
"This 'cementation' process is an intriguing concept, my lord. It is much like the process of case hardening that blacksmiths do to convert iron into castle-forged steel, but on a larger scale than ever done before." My maester brings up case hardening, a blacksmith technique of converting iron into steel by adding carbon, usually from ground charcoal, bone, mineral salts, leather straps on other materials, sealing them in a container covered in sand and heating it for an extended period of time.
"Aye, that's where I got the inspiration, Armond. When it works, it'll produce more steel in a three-week batch than all the blacksmiths of Wolfsport can in three moons." I firmly declare. "Steel that can be forged into weapons, armor, tools, and more for cheaper and if we produce enough, we may even be able to export the steel! Speaking of exporting, Martyn, how is the construction of the quickstone quay at the western docks?" I change the subject and ask my castellan about the expansion of the docks.
"The foundations have been laid with stone and construction on the quay itself with stone and quickstone is about to commence. With winter around the corner, construction speed will slow due to low temperatures and rougher seas but we hope to see it done within two years. When completed and combined with new warehouses, it will expand the trade capacity of our docks by a full third. The seawall in the quay will most likely take an additional year to build my lord." Martyn reports and I give an understanding nod.
"It is sorely needed. The western docks are near capacity with all the grain ships currently sailing into Wolfsport. If the trade volume increases any more, and it probably will, we'll be forced to lease docks in the northern docks where the Sunset Fleet anchor and I'd rather not do that." I respond, wanting to keep the northern docks exclusively for military vessels.
"Alright, I know that was a lot to get through but the reports are encouraging and I truly believe we are as prepared for winter as we can possibly be. Are there any other announcements?" I ask the table after a brief moment of silence. My mother speaks first.
"We will be leaving for Torrhen's Square in three moons to attend Yara's wedding with Master Tallhart's brother, Leobald Tallhart. Will your fosterlings be accompanying us?" My mother asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Aye, it'll be good for them. For Asher, because he's a Northerner and the rest because they need to see the North is more than just Castle Warg and Wolfsport." I say with a grin.
"Even when we're traveling in early winter?" My mother inquires and my grin widens.
"Even better, the Southroners will experience a true Northern winter. Besides, we'll be sailing there by ship. Clipper to the mouth of the Torrhen River, then a river barge to Torrhen's Square." My mother nods at my explanation and Myrra takes over.
"I received a letter from my father, and he has recently betrothed my brother Burton with Lady Dacey Mormont!" My wife announces, catching the table off guard. "Did you have anything to do with this Hugo? I know you were corresponding with Lord Mormont recently." She finishes in a playful, yet accusing tone.
"Lord Mormont did write to me. He asked me about your brother and my thoughts on him." My words cause my wife's eyes to flash with intrigue.
"And what did you write back?" Her green eyes staring into my blueish-gray ones.
"The truth." I state simply and she raises an eyebrow, waiting for my answer. "That he's a good lad, smitten with her since our wedding, and from what from what Prince Stannis tells me, stood up for her being a shieldmaiden when most sneered. Lord Mormont thanked me for my advice and do you know what he told his cousin said of your brother?" Myrra shakes her head. "She said he's 'the only Southroner I'd marry'!"
"Oh? That's high praise from her! I heard she barely tolerates the idea of marriage in the first place. She must like him a lot!" My mother says in surprise.
"So, when's the wedding? They should both be reaching maturity soon." I asked.
"Six moons from now in Lannisport, right before a grand trade expedition to faraway lands. Sound familiar?" Myrra says with a smirk.
"Right before a Director's meeting no less." I chuckle before addressing the table again.
"Right does anything else need to be discussed?" I make eye contact with each of my advisors. When no one says a word, I dismiss them, slowly getting up from my chair and making my way towards the door. Scarlet the macaw flies past me as I reach the door, causing me to quickly duck my head out of the bird's flight path. I contemplate where to go next until my stomach loudly gurgles, reminding me that it is close to noon and I haven't eaten all morning. I turn down the hallway and make my way towards the kitchen, hankering for seafood like I always do after skinchanging into the orca. I wonder if I can make a po boy toasty…
Later…
The cold air hits me when I exit the grand hall. I shove the last bite of my shrimp po boy toasty in my mouth and chew, savoring the blend of lightly fried shrimp, crisp lettuce, juicy tomato, and tangy tartar sauce. I wrap a heavy black cloak around myself, the white and gray wolf fur lining the collar around my neck as I descend the stairs leading into the grand hall with two servants, each holding a plate with three po' boy toasties, flanking me. A gust of wind brings a brief, frigid chill before returning to normal as I head towards the castle training grounds. It's difficult to gauge the temperature without thermostats, but if I had to wager, I'd say it's just below freezing. I look out at Sea Dragon Bay, the sunlight reflecting off the calm waters on a rare cloudless day. Between the castle and the city, though closer to the city, I see the far-off corpse of the humpback, now drifted onto the beach, being harvested by a large group of men. A nearby crowd of smallfolk stands off from a distance watching the whale harvesting since a whale of that size beaching or being hunted is an uncommon thing.
The sounds of steel clanging can be heard as I approach the training grounds, walking past a group of four guards surrounding a barrel. A quick glance at their hands shows them holding playing cards in their hands and when I look down at the table, I see a deck of cards, with one card face up that I can't read from this distance and a few copper coins for the "pot". I see the "dealer" draw the top card of the deck and place it face up on the table, one guard immediately deflating and throwing his hand on the table in a fold. The other two players glance between themselves and place their cards on the table.
"Blackjack!" I hear as I walk by the guards, so absorbed in their card game that they don't notice me walking by.
"Knight of falcons, four of roses, six of lions, and an ace of wolves! One-and-twenty exactly!" The guard boasts as the others grumble, the sound of cards thrown on the barrel and coins scrapping on wood can be heard and I smirk at the playing cards I've introduced to this world. I based my "wardens deck" off the standard deck of cards from my world, only instead of clubs, spades, diamonds, and hearts it's the four wardens of the Seven Kingdoms. The card types are wolves, roses, falcons, and lions with the face cards being the only other difference with knight, lady, warden replacing jack, queen, and king. Made out of pasteboard and printed on with woodblock printing, the wardens decks have been a big hit with sailors, guards, and gambling dens, especially after I introduced games like poker or "Wolfsport Hold'em" as I named it.
The clanging of steel gets louder when I round the corner and gaze upon the training ground, a wide-open area with various guardsmen training and sparring. But my focus was on the three spars happening to a far-off corner, the first involving two blonde-haired, green-eyed boys, one short and one tall. I see little Tyrion facing off against Quenten, the one-and-ten nameday old son of Ser Maynard. The Lannister dwarf tries to swing a blunted sword at Quenten but his short arms give him a very limited reach that son of my knight dodges with ease. Quenten then goes on the offensive as I hear instructions yelled at both of them by Ser Maynard. Tyrion puts up a valiant effort defending with his small shield and attempting to strike back but his opponents size advantage proves too much Quenten manages to overpower him, knocking him down and pointing his blade at Tyrion's throat. Tyrion yields and Quenten helps him up, both smiling and panting before I see Ser Maynard walk up to discuss their spar.
My eyes shift to the second spar, seeing Patrek Mallister with my cousin Jonnel, circling each other armed with blunted swords, both looking for an opening. Patrek either spots an opening or simply gets impatient and makes the first move, surging forward with a vertical slash that Jonnel blocks before attempting to riposte. Unfortunately for him, Patrek hops back to avoid the counter-strike and launches his own counter that Jonnel blocks again.
I watch the two go at it for a moment, before turning my head to the last spar happening in this corner, seeing Humfrey Hightower lock blunted blades with Asher Forrester, separate, then clash again. Ser Normund Flowers, the Blackshield of Uplands, observes the spar with a critical eye, shouting encouragement and advice to both combatants. I analyze their movements, their techniques, and their results, finding that while they've improved since arriving in Castle Warg, they're still a ways away from being notable knights. This didn't concern me too much since they were still young with the youngest being Humfrey at ten and the oldest being Tyrion, a little over a year and a half older and about to turn two-and-ten in a moon. Expecting them to be master swordsmen at their ages is frankly ridiculous.
"Humfrey, remember your footwork! Asher, you're swing with too much force!" Ser Normund calls as I walk closer to the sparing boys.
As if on cue, Humfrey brings his legs closer together and Asher swings his blunted sword a little too wildly. The strike is easily parried by Humfrey, with the wildness of the strike leaving Asher open for a split second and that was all Humfrey needed to close the gap and point his blunted sword at Asher's throat.
"Yield!" Humfrey commands Asher, who gives a hesitant nod before Humfrey lowers his weapon and the two shake hands.
"Well done, Humfrey." The Hightower boy huffs from exhaustion but turns to face me, surprise coloring his face before it shifts proud grin. "Oh, thank you Lord Seastark!" He says, slightly out of breath.
My gaze turns to Asher, who is in a similar state of exhaustion but smarting from his recent defeat.
"Asher…" His tired green eyes snap to me and I have his full attention. "…I like the aggressiveness but your attacks are too wide. They're easy to read and as Humfrey showed, easy to parry." Asher absorbs my words with a determined nod.
I glance back at the other spar just in time to see Jonnel gaining the upper hand on the one nameday younger Patrek when he trips himself on his footwork but doesn't fall. The momentary distraction is all that Jonnel needs to end the spar when he surges forward to attack Patrek, who yields after being knocked down.
"Good fight, cousin! Not bad Patrek, though I see we need to work on your footwork." I said with a nod as Jonnel helps up Patrek.
"Aye. I will, Lord Seastark." The Mallister heir says with grace. I look over to the six boys who had been training and sparring since sunrise, tired smiles gracing their faces.
"You lads look like you worked up an appetite." I signal the two servants following me to approach the lads with their plates of shrimp po' boy toasties. The fosterlings, my cousin and Quenten thank me for the food before devouring the toasties in a way only growing boys could. I look down at the paved road between Castle Warg and Wolfsport where on the beach laid the corpse of the mother humpback whale. From this distance, the men harvesting what oil and meat they can from the whale looked akin to ants swarming a larger insect. My eyes flicker to the water and I see the pod of orcas swimming off towards the mouth of the bay.
"Alright lads, get that armor off. We're heading out to see a whale get harvested!" I address my fosterlings, who look at me like I grew a second head.
"Why would we need to know about whales, Lord Seastark?" Patrek asks.
"Because whales are like any animal in your lands, or in this case waters, they're a resource to be harvested. And because whales can be massive, you can harvest a lot of resources like oil, meat, ivory, and more. Now off!" The lads walk on to take off their armor and I left with the two knights. I look at the city of Wolfsport particularly the eastern Main Gate that has a steady stream of smallfolk using the recently paved road to migrate to the city for winter. East of the city, on the Salmon River, is the new sawmill, inside is a water-powered circular saw cutting lumber faster and more efficiently than any in Westeros. East further still is the walled metalworks facility with multiple blast furnaces, puddling furnaces, and a steel furnace I am still trying to perfect. I see wooden houses being constructed around the walls of the city and along the road that connects the Wolfswood Road to the castle road. Paving the road has had the unintended consequence of making it easier for smallfolk from further out to migrate to Wolfsport, meaning the city is looking to host over fifty thousand people for winter.
"It was an incredible hunt." I'm pulled out of my observations by Ser Normund's voice as he walks up with Ser Maynard. "Aye. Ser Normund and I were having an early morning spar when we saw the whalers hunting the humpback. To our amazement, a pod of spotted whales were attacking the same humpback! I've never seen such a thing!" Ser Maynard says as we gaze upon the far-off whale carcass.
"Some of the servants claimed the spotted whales were helping the whalers but I think they saw an easy meal. It was still a sight to see, Lord Seastark." Ser Normund comments as I hear the boys come back without their armor, arguing amongst themselves if men and spotted whales could work together to successfully hunt a larger whale. Jonnel and Asher argue that it's possible while the Southron boys argue to the contrary. We set off towards the castle stables near the gates.
"I bet it was, Ser Normund. But I was still asleep with my wife." I say as I ignore the look Jonnel throws my way since he is amongst the few who know I'm a skinchanger. That list includes all of House Seastark, my castellan Martyn, and Commander Donnel. The latter two because they were on my council and were Northerners and could be trusted. Maester Armond is a Stormlander and maester that thinks skinchangers are like snarks and grumpkins and I didn't want my Southron courtiers knowing because the Faith of the Seven views skinchanging as demonic sorcery.
We mount our horses trot out of the main gate and onto the road.
"Lord Seastark, did you hear what happened at the Harvest Tourney in Highgarden?" Humfrey asks when their argument reaches an impasse.
"Aye. Lord Tyrell's heir Willas entered as a squire, at Jonnel's age no less! Poor lad was injured in a joust with Prince Oberyn Martell." I say with genuine empathy. "Now it's reignited the old flames of enmity between their houses, threatening to tear apart their little trade company." I finish with faux sadness.
"My father has been writing to Lord Tyrell to get him to leave Prince Oberyn's trade company and join ours. I assume you've been doing the same Lord Seastark?" Humfrey inquires.
"I sent Lord Tyrell a raven but the question isn't whether he and most of the Reach pulls out of the Southron Trade Company, it's whether they'll join ours or the Royal Trade Company." I say as we arrive at the whale carcass with men cutting pieces of meat and a few men still harvesting whale oil and carrying it off in wooden buckets. I dismount from my horse, ignoring the pungent smell of decay and my entourage follows suit. I walk up to the man directing the whalers.
"Quite the haul you got there." I say to the middle-aged man, who glances at me briefly before looking at the whale. Then turns his head so fast I thought his neck would snap and bows his head low.
"Lord Seastark! My apologies, we weren't expecting you or any highborn to join us!" The man glances at my fosterlings, Quenten, and Jonnel. "But yes a huge haul, this humpback's at least fifty feet long. It'll provide a lot of meat and oil for lamps. We harvested the whalebone in the mouth without damaging them as you ordered, my lord. It's already been sent to tailors in the city." I nod at his words but Asher prevents me from responding.
"Is it true you worked with a pod of spotted whales to hunt this humpback?" He asks the man, who laughs good-naturedly.
"Aye, young lord. The pod attacked the mother humpback and her calf, driving them towards the surface and the shore, where we attacked the mother…" The experienced whaler tells the story of the hunt to the lads, who hang on every word he says. I feel a tug in my mind towards the sea and glance out to see a large dorsal fin that belongs to a familiar orca in the distance.
Two weeks later…
Wyman, Edric, Commander Donnell, Castellan Martyn, and I were standing in the castle smithery with Farlen, the castle blacksmith. The man in his fifties stands with his two apprentices, one local, one born in King's Landing, all three holding longswords made from high-quality castle-forged steel.
"It's as you said my lord, the steel from the furnace was blistery on the outside, but underneath is castle-forged steel. The steel furnace you made is a miracle! It does the case hardening process we blacksmiths have been doing for thousands of years, but on a much larger scale! These three swords are the first to be forged from the steel made in your furnace." Farlen and his apprentices hand over the three swords for Wyman, my commander and myself to inspect. The one in my hands is a three and a half foot long, straight double-edged blade, with the pommel forged in the shape of a wolf's head.
"A good sword Farlen. Made from good steel." I hand the sword to Edric. "I already have a sword but you don't and will need one for your voyage to Ibben. Consider it an early nameday gift, brother." My brother looks at the sword, admiring it's craftsmanship before looking back at me.
"Thank you, brother. I will wield this sword with pride." He says, beaming at the fact he had his own sword.
"My lord, with your new steel furnace, we can forge more steel weapons and armor than ever before! All of them castle-forged steel!" Commander Donnell comments with an impressed tone.
"We can start by replacing older weapons and armor in our men-at-arms and garrisons and go from there." I say before my castellan speaks.
"My lord, do we have enough blacksmiths to work the amount of steel you're producing?" "Well, I brought the three blacksmith brothers from King's Landing a few years ago, they have four sons who are blacksmith apprentices, including Gyles there." I gesture towards the three-and-ten nameday apprentice from King's Landing.
"You know my name! Er, my lord!" The poor apprentice is caught off guard by my knowledge of his name.
"Aye, of course I know your name! You and your family marched with us from the capital back to Wolfsport. Your father set up his own forge but your uncles work in my metalworks, your family seems to have settled into Wolfsport." I say with a smile. Gyles beams at me.
"Aye, my lord. I remember when you visited our home years ago, promising us a better life if we left with you to go North. My father and uncles debated fiercely and with much wine deep into the night before agreeing to your offer. The trek north was tough, but once we got to Wolfsport, you helped us get employment quickly to put food on the table, allowed us to get our bearings in a new city and build a new life. You've been most generous to us my lord, more than most lords, I reckon. You have my family and I's eternal gratitude, Lord Seastark." The blacksmith apprentice says earnestly in his Flea Bottom accent.
"I'm glad I could give you a place for your family to thrive as blacksmiths." I say to Gyles before turning to my castellan. "Four other blacksmiths have settled here from King's Landing since we returned and I'm sure that number with increase when word of my metalworks gets out. Then blacksmiths from across the Seven Kingdoms will flock to Wolfsport!"
"And I'm sure there will be spies amongst them. Dagwell can only vet so many." Wyman comments and Martyn and Donnell nod in agreement.
"We'll have to be vigilant and properly vet them but we have time. Those Southroners aren't going to come here during winter after all!" I jape and everyone in the room chuckles.
Later…
I sat at the desk in my solar reading a raven scroll from Lord Hightower, the frown on my lips deepening as I finish it.
Lord Tyrell did ditch the Martells as expected, but decided to join the Royal Trade Company along with most of the remaining Reacher lords. The only exceptions were the lords of the Shield Islands, House Westbrook of Dustonbury at the Mouth of the Mander, House Oakheart of Old Oak, House Tarly of Horn Hill, House Peake of Starpike, and House Ambrose of Whiteglove who decided to join the Sunset Trade Company. This has effectively split the Reach in half between the two trading companies. Prince Oberyn's trade company limps on with only Dorne, but came away with the company's sole trading post in Last Lament.
I put down the scroll and pick up a letter from Prince Stannis.
Dear Hugo,
I am honored you named your second son after me. Shireen has recently turned two and Myrcella was born within weeks of her cousin. My brother has decided to try for an heir again now that five moons has passed and his wife has recovered. The birth of Argella was hard on her body but she claims to feel healthy enough to try again and I wish them the best of luck. Despite my brother and I's efforts, our wives continue to snipe at one another. We've gotten them to stop being public but there's still a noticeable split in court between the so-called "golds" and "silvers".
Pirates in the Stepstones are becoming more aggressive, especially as relations with Three Daughters have worsen due to our trade companies competing with them. Oddly enough, the Rogue Seahorse isn't the one attacking Westerosi merchants as it appears he's too busy trying to build a Kingdom in the Stepstones. He's so far conquered half of the islands with Grey Gallows being the stronghold of a sizeable pirate fleet.
Even thousands of miles from the Red Keep you cause me and the Small Council headaches! The High Septon petitioned in front of court for the construction of a sept in Wolfsport. His reasoning? To provide a sept for the hundreds of Seven-worshipping smallfolk that have left King's Landing for Wolfsport. My brother rejected his petition, continuing the practice of leaving the construction of septs to local lords, in this case, you. I would expect a letter from the High Septon soon if you haven't received one already.
Some of the blacksmiths on the Street of Steel have complained about you poaching young talent. There are rumors amongst the blacksmiths of the city of a "metalworks" in Wolfsport with blast furnaces better than any in the capital and something called a "puddling furnace". I see inventing wayfinders and quickstone wasn't enough, you just have to keep inventing new, better ways of doing things.
Lord Stark wrote to us about your roads and quickstone, praising them. He declared he would pave the Kingsroad from the Wall to the Neck with your quickstone and this has given my brother and his wife an idea. A rather ambitious one, a paved Kingsroad from Storm's End to Castle Black. The Small Council's still debating it but Robert will most likely get his road though any construction won't start until spring. As the inventor of quickstone and this type of road, your advice on this endeavor will be greatly appreciated.
He also wrote about better plows pulled by only two horses and something called a "seed drill". I would like to purchase a few of these farming inventions of yours to test in Storm's End if you do not mind.
We will see each other again in Lannisport for Lord Burton and Lady Dacey's wedding. Cersei's been particularly excited about attending this wedding, happier than usual. It's strange, my wife thought low of Lady Dacey and her being a shieldmaiden until she became betrothed to your goodbrother while the queen, her biggest supporter, was furious. "Silver turned into gold" as some have whispered in court.
Until we meet again, my friend.
Sincerely, Prince Stannis.
I reread the letter before placing it on the desk and rubbing my eyes as I try to unpack everything in the letter. The High Septon bugging me to build a sept would be inconvenient but he ultimately can't do anything if I refuse. The increase in piracy, rise of the Rogue Seahorse, and deteriorating relations with the Three Daughters are making the Stepstones a powder keg waiting to explode. Word of my inventions are spreading with some like the metalworks spreading a bit too fast for my liking. A paved Kingsroad would be great for the realm as a whole and for the Second Long Night when we'll need to get large amounts of men and supplies to the Wall and I am completely on board with that. My goodbrother's wedding turning out to be a sword without a hilt. On the one hand, I see my friend Stannis again, on the other hand, I have to cockblock his wife and her brother. Speaking of his wife, news of her petty spat with the queen starting another Blacks and Greens scenario is what's really giving me a migraine. I shake my head, grab a blank piece of paper, and quill my response letter to Stannis.
A/N: This chapter was a pain in the ass to write and required rewriting in parts, not to mention work and real life getting in the way.
Winter is Coming, or has already arrived in the North so this chapter was a bit of an update on everything going into winter because less gets done during this time. Hugo's starting to industrialize with better saw mills and a whole metalworks facility. I originally wanted to introduce the Bessemer process but doing a bit more research made me realize Westeros isn't there just yet. Maybe in five or ten years, he'll get a Bessemer steel converter going once he's made a bunch more steel. The Derwentcote Steel Furnace is a real place in northern England and while not as efficient as the Bessemer process, it's still better than anything Westeros has and I thought it a good stepping stone to the Bessemer process.
The fosterlings will learn to fight, even Tyrion. He probably won't get knighted but it's not like Tywin expects him to get one. Cards and Blackjack have been introduced to Westeros along with po' boys as a bit of a cultural update. Hugo maybe sitting back and improving his lands, but others like Stannis are noticing his success.
I'm toying with the idea of writing shorter but (hopefully) more frequent updates, does that sound good to you guys?