Chapter 22
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kaizerfox
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Chapter 22
Sea Dragon Bay, Late Third Moon, 286 A.C., Three moons later…
The driver swims through the kelp, inspecting each stalk carefully before finding some reason to dismiss it and moving to the next stalk. I send him a mental poke asking what he is doing as I've never seen this type of behavior in orcas. Not that I'm an expert in orcas or anything. I receive an image of two orcas placing a kelp stalk between them and rubbing their bodies with together. This piques my curiosity because this is a sign of toolmaking.
The driver finally selects the perfect kelp, using his teeth to rip a four-foot-long stalk and begins swimming towards his mother. He squeaks and clicks to his mother, who seems happy to take him up on his suggestion. The driver places the kelp between his right side and her left side, both orcas facing the same direction, and begin rubbing up against each other. The sensation feels akin to when I use my back scratcher to scratch an irritating, out of reach spot. I sense a mix of physical relief and familial affection through the mental curtain as he continues to rub up with his mother. I quietly observe the strengthening of the social bonds between mother and son, who perform this ritual for a few minutes both sides, the back, and the belly. After they finish, the kelp is discarded as the driver swims to the surface for air. I convince him to spyhop, a behavior in whales and dolphins breach their entire head above water to look around, and he obliges. He positions himself vertically with his pectoral fin in a manner similar to a person treading water, and slowly pokes his head until his eyes are a few inches above the waterline.
It's still dark out at the hour of the redbird or around six in the morning in another world, the lighthouse on a hill north of the city still lit. This far north in winter, the sunrise is still about two hours away in the hour of the robin. With the driver's superior low-light vision, I spot a few fishing ships already in the bay, with most only now setting out from the harbor. A Northern merchant cog sails out of the eastern harbor and a few moments later, a Riverlander merchant cog sails in.
At the north end of the harbor sits ten galleys of the Sunset Fleet, three in the last stages of construction and seven undergoing maintenance. The rest of the fleet, thirty galleys in total, were patrolling Northern waters north of Cape Kraken, split into groups of five galleys to cover a wider area. No reavings have been reported, either in Sea Dragon Point or by other Northern houses.
The quickstone quay lays half finished, the workers soon to arrive to continue its construction, due to be done by the end of the year as newly built scorpions gaze down menacingly from the sea wall.
The driver turns and notices the light of a small fishing boat sailing towards us. The small vessel is piloted by three men with a lantern lit by a whale oil candle, burning brightly in the darkness. When the boat draws near, I see the three fishermen wearing rabbit-fur ushankas, a father, and his sons, one on the cusp of manhood and the other looked to be around Jonnel's age of three-and-ten, point towards us and start talking amongst themselves. The father and his sons then fling three fresh salmon from their first haul towards the driver and my bond with the driver strengthening to the point that I can understand the salty fisherman's words.
"SEA MESSENGER OF THE OLD GODS! WE OFFER THIS TRIBUTE IN HOPES THAT THE OLD GODS WILL CONTINUE TO BLESS OUR NETS FULL OF FISH!" The fisherman shouts and his sons bow their heads as the boat passes by about twenty feet from us. Unfortunately for them, the driver doesn't understand their words and moves to eat the free salmon. I receive a mental poke from him asking why the humans have been throwing fish at him and his pod. I send an images of him saving my brother and the pod hunting and fishing with humans. A picture of a direwolf next to an orca is next to illustrate a connection I am building between them in the eyes of the smallfolk and the driver shows intrigue at the mental image of the direwolf and my explanation of orcas being the "direwolves of the seas".
He's silent for a moment before responding with a series of images of images, the first is humans throwing fish at an orca and the pod eating the tongue of a humpback hunted by whalers, and the second shows his mother commanding the pod to save a drowning man and assisting fishermen and whalers in their hunts. The third image mirrors the first only with no fish being given to the orcas and the fourth mirrors the second only with the pod refusing to save the drowning man or assist in the hunts. I agree to his basic deal, marveling at the intelligence of orcas in being able to conceptualize and agree to deals not only with other pods but humans as well.
The brief interaction between the fishermen and the driver has me thinking about the pod of eight orcas and the reputation they've been unintentionally cultivating amongst the whalers and fishermen of Wolfsport.
Before I started skinchanging, spotted whales were seen as any other whale, game to be hunted when possible, and left alone when not. After a certain milk-eyed spotted whale saved my brother from drowning, I forbid the hunting of spotted whales. While some whalers grumbled, most accepted it since spotted whales were rarely hunted anyways and saving my brother bought a lot of goodwill from the people. Since then, the pod has assisted in the hunt of gray whales on two separate occasions and another humpback, providing Wolfsport with much needed whalebone and oil. The pod recently herded a large school of salmon into the nets of awaiting fishermen in return for a portion of the catch and now the fishermen and whalers have begun to give offerings of fish to the orcas in hopes of receiving the blessing of a sea messenger. The Old Gods of the Forest may dwell on land, but they are gods of nature itself and naturally, the sea falls within their domain. The direwolf was chosen by the Starks for their sigil for a reason, the direwolf has always been revered by the First Men and Children as divine messengers. I used the rescue of my brother to outlaw the hunting of orcas, citing them as the "direwolves of the sea, and thus the messengers of the Old Gods through the sea".
I made it all up, of course. Thanks to the complete lack of any uniform or codified worship of the Old Gods, the smallfolk seem to believe my bullshit divine connection between the spotted whales and the Old Gods.
After eating the salmon, the driver dives back into the depths of the bay and meets up with the gathered pod. They lazily swim around, having some type of debate between themselves on what to do or what to hunt.
Click Click Click Click Click
A string of loud clicks reverberates throughout the bay with the volume of someone screaming in your ear. After a short pause, another series of clicks with long whine that lowered in pitch as it went on finishing it. I recognize the type of beast that makes these noises, having heard them before with the driver, faintly like a whisper.
When I first heard it I asked the driver what kind of animal was making that kind of noise. When it answered with a mental image of a fully grown leviathan, I remember getting excited thinking one was about to swim into Sea Dragon Bay only for my host to amusingly note that the leviathan making the sounds was thousands of miles away communicating with another one of it's kind over vast differences. I knew sperm whales were the loudest animals on earth and could communicate over thousands of miles but it was a completely different thing to faintly hear a leviathan and realize it was a probably off the coast of Lonely Light.
This one, however, sounds much closer. I ask the driver how close the leviathan making the current sounds and he estimates that it's around fifty miles away. If that's how loud they sound from fifty miles away, I shudder to think how loud it'd be next to one. The pod continues to swim along, knowing the massive beast is still a far distance away, though noticeably more tense, like a herd of deer catching the faintest scent of a wolf.
On Earth, orcas are the apex predators of the sea, capable of hunting whales larger than themselves and no natural predators of their own. Here, orcas can still prey on whales larger than them but they aren't apex predators, that title belongs to leviathans. They have no natural predators and are only hunted by the Ibbenese, which is why I'm so determined to get my hands on one of their ship schematics. Not only would it allow us to hunt leviathans, it would allow us to hunt large whales further out at sea by harvesting the whale next to the ship instead of dragging it to the shore.
The pod swims towards the shallower waters of the shoreline and proceeds to hunt seals. The driver dives below a group of seals before charging at one and delivering a devastating smack that launches it high in the air. The rest of the pack scatter and when the unfortunate victim hits the water a moment later, the dazed seal becomes an easy breakfast for the driver. As the orcas chews on his meal I feel a strange sensation, as if someone is shaking me. I check to see if it's the driver trying to communicate when I feel it again.
Suddenly my eyes open and I'm staring at the canopy of our bed. I sit up and glance over to my heavily pregnant who looks at me with a serious look on her face.
"Hugo, my water broke." I stare at her dumbly before the words register in my brain and I immediately call for the wetnurse. In a hectic blur, I escort my wife with a maid to the birthing chambers…
Later…
After several hours labor that ended up requiring the use of forceps to correct a malposition of the babe, I hold little Jeyne Seastark in my arms as Myrra lays on the bed, awake yet resting. Golden blonde hair but with the same greenish-gray eyes of her siblings, she is named after Myrra's friend Jeyne Grafton nee Farman. We agreed to name her Jeyne after her friend's fifth child was born Myrra Grafton.
The Seastarks still in Castle Warg are in the chambers with us, with mother holding a four-and-ten moon old Stannis while Jonnel and Breyna plays with an Asha that recently celebrated her third nameday and the twins, themselves a few moons shy of three, after the toddlers lost interest in their newest sibling. Elsa holds Wyman's eight moon old son Bennard, born a moon before the expedition left and named after our grandfather. The midwife and her assistants leave to wash their hands with soap and clean the forceps with boiled wine.
"I hope Quentyn isn't too upset about my brother becoming House Seastark's second knight." I say with a smile and Myrra softly chuckles at the reference to the royal proclamation of Prince Stannis' victory against the Dothraki in the "Battle of Morosh".
That had come a moon ago and was sparse on details, only that the Dothraki had been defeated, the city saved, the prince sailing for Saath, and a list of knighthoods and achievements. Edric was mentioned twice. The first was that he was knighted for fighting two weeks in the siege with five and twenty Sea Wolves and slaying the heir to Khal Motho. The second is that he was saved by Petyr Baelish of all people
"He'll have to settle for the acclaimed title of 'House Seastark's third knight'". Myrra japes and the adults chuckle. The lad in question is with his father, Ser Normund, the fosterlings, and former prince Jalabhar Xho at the archery range with the Summer Islander leading the lessons. Jalabhar, like most Summer Islander princes, is a skilled archer since his people heavily prize the skill, more than riding or melee combat.
At first, the castle garrison thought his skill was due only to his goldenheart bow, made from the famous wood found only in the Summer Islands. But when given a simple yew bow, the former prince hit a near bulls-eye from one hundred yards, silencing his critics. I gave him the honor of teaching archery to my fosterlings, except Tyrion, who is unable to use a bow and is using a crossbow instead.
For a moment I stand there with my family, holding my newborn daughter and bask in the peace. A knock on the door breaks the peace, opening to reveal Maester Armond with a raven scroll.
"A raven from King's Landing my lord. It's from Dagwell." The maester's words cause the adults and Jonnel to snap their heads at him, knowing a message from Dagwell meant news about Edric and their voyage.
"That it's from the capital is a good sign." I say hopefully as I take the message and unfurl it. My eyes scan the scroll written in a Caesar cipher to make it unreadable to anyone without the key. I hand Jeyne over to Myrra before deciphering the scroll and writing out a translated version on a separate scroll.
As I decipher the phrase "At Hell's heart I stab at thee!" I smile, the phrase being the code for the successful acquisition of the ship schematics. I continue to decipher, unsure if they accidently added a zero when the refugees are mentioned and finish writing out Dagwell's encrypted scroll. I silently read the decrypted message in full and my reactions range from pride, confusion, to frustration at my brother's actions.
"Hugo? Is Edric alright?" My mother asks me and I hand over the decrypted message.
"Edric got the schematics and is safe! He traded the secrets to our farming implements, the rocket stoves, the canning process, the saw mill, and our perfumes to obtain it!" I note he didn't give away the secrets to the wayfinders, backstaffs and my metalworks. The words bring cheer and relief to my family. Arsa and the twins look around at the adults knowing something is going on but not understanding what.
"Edric deflowered a Lorathi princess and she carries his child! Now her father, the Prince of the Streets is demanding compensation!" My mother exclaims upon reading that part of the message and the rest of my family looks scandalized.
"What will happen to the child? Are they asking for compensation?" My goodsister Elsa asks and I shrug.
"There is no mention of what they intend to do with the child. Although I wouldn't be surprised if the Ennarhan family wishes to keep him." I answer to the surprise of the room.
"But wouldn't they be worried about the bastard possibly inheriting the title of prince?" Myrra asks in confusion.
"The title of Prince of Lorath is elected, not inherited. Meaning there's little to no threat of them ever becoming a Prince. They could possibly inherit the family's lands and wealth, but not the title of Prince." I respond.
"As for compensation, the Lorathi prince is demanding we pay for the transport of over a thousand former slaves and a hundred beasts of burden to Wolfsport!" My mother continues to read the decrypted letter. My family reacts with a barrage of questions.
"Are we getting new people?" Little nine namedays old Breyna asks.
"Surely he means over a hundred, right?" Elsa asks.
"Where did Edric find that many people willing to come all the way here?" Jonnel puts in his two cents.
"How much is this going to cost?" My wife inquires and I wince thinking about the expense.
"Dagwell says the transport fleet is chartered five-and-ten galleys for five thousand gold. You wouldn't need that many for a hundred people and some cattle. No, were about to get a large intake of people in the middle of winter. Armond!" I address the maester. "Can we handle taking in a thousand people in a two or three moons?"
"I'm unsure, my lord. Wolfsport already has more people sheltering here than previous winters. Even with the additional housing you ordered constructed outside the walls it'll be difficult to accommodate a thousand people in winter. We may have to settle them elsewhere until spring." The maester answers and I consider his words.
"What about the castle hamlet and Stillport? We can send them there to lessen the burden on Wolfsport." I ask Armond and he mulls over my words.
"We may be able to accommodate a hundred in the castle hamlet and two or three hundred in Stillport. At worse, we can send them to Amber Hill or Flatmire if they're able to make the journeys." I nod and order him to begin preparations for their arrival. The maester acknowledges the order and leaves us.
"Finally, Dagwell reports that Edric presented your gift to the king on his nameday, the rocket stove drawing interest from the courtiers, and the queen is due to give birth in a moon." My mother finishes reading out the letter. The Seastark family begins discussing the latest news about Edric's knighthood, the coming settlers, the whaling ship schematics, and so on. I just stand there, watching my wife hold our newest child and quietly enjoy the moment…
A/N: I was going to type more but decided to cut it off here. Not much in this chapter other than we see Hugo deepening the partnership between orcas and humans. We see a bit of the cultural impact of orcas/spotted whales saving and working with people as they are starting to be seen as sacred animals. Hugo and his family also celebrate the birth of his second and finally get an update from Dagwell and Edric. Next chapter will be the arrival of the refugees and the later arrival of Wyman and the Yi-Ti expedition. Enjoy!
Sea Dragon Bay, Late Third Moon, 286 A.C., Three moons later…
The driver swims through the kelp, inspecting each stalk carefully before finding some reason to dismiss it and moving to the next stalk. I send him a mental poke asking what he is doing as I've never seen this type of behavior in orcas. Not that I'm an expert in orcas or anything. I receive an image of two orcas placing a kelp stalk between them and rubbing their bodies with together. This piques my curiosity because this is a sign of toolmaking.
The driver finally selects the perfect kelp, using his teeth to rip a four-foot-long stalk and begins swimming towards his mother. He squeaks and clicks to his mother, who seems happy to take him up on his suggestion. The driver places the kelp between his right side and her left side, both orcas facing the same direction, and begin rubbing up against each other. The sensation feels akin to when I use my back scratcher to scratch an irritating, out of reach spot. I sense a mix of physical relief and familial affection through the mental curtain as he continues to rub up with his mother. I quietly observe the strengthening of the social bonds between mother and son, who perform this ritual for a few minutes both sides, the back, and the belly. After they finish, the kelp is discarded as the driver swims to the surface for air. I convince him to spyhop, a behavior in whales and dolphins breach their entire head above water to look around, and he obliges. He positions himself vertically with his pectoral fin in a manner similar to a person treading water, and slowly pokes his head until his eyes are a few inches above the waterline.
It's still dark out at the hour of the redbird or around six in the morning in another world, the lighthouse on a hill north of the city still lit. This far north in winter, the sunrise is still about two hours away in the hour of the robin. With the driver's superior low-light vision, I spot a few fishing ships already in the bay, with most only now setting out from the harbor. A Northern merchant cog sails out of the eastern harbor and a few moments later, a Riverlander merchant cog sails in.
At the north end of the harbor sits ten galleys of the Sunset Fleet, three in the last stages of construction and seven undergoing maintenance. The rest of the fleet, thirty galleys in total, were patrolling Northern waters north of Cape Kraken, split into groups of five galleys to cover a wider area. No reavings have been reported, either in Sea Dragon Point or by other Northern houses.
The quickstone quay lays half finished, the workers soon to arrive to continue its construction, due to be done by the end of the year as newly built scorpions gaze down menacingly from the sea wall.
The driver turns and notices the light of a small fishing boat sailing towards us. The small vessel is piloted by three men with a lantern lit by a whale oil candle, burning brightly in the darkness. When the boat draws near, I see the three fishermen wearing rabbit-fur ushankas, a father, and his sons, one on the cusp of manhood and the other looked to be around Jonnel's age of three-and-ten, point towards us and start talking amongst themselves. The father and his sons then fling three fresh salmon from their first haul towards the driver and my bond with the driver strengthening to the point that I can understand the salty fisherman's words.
"SEA MESSENGER OF THE OLD GODS! WE OFFER THIS TRIBUTE IN HOPES THAT THE OLD GODS WILL CONTINUE TO BLESS OUR NETS FULL OF FISH!" The fisherman shouts and his sons bow their heads as the boat passes by about twenty feet from us. Unfortunately for them, the driver doesn't understand their words and moves to eat the free salmon. I receive a mental poke from him asking why the humans have been throwing fish at him and his pod. I send an images of him saving my brother and the pod hunting and fishing with humans. A picture of a direwolf next to an orca is next to illustrate a connection I am building between them in the eyes of the smallfolk and the driver shows intrigue at the mental image of the direwolf and my explanation of orcas being the "direwolves of the seas".
He's silent for a moment before responding with a series of images of images, the first is humans throwing fish at an orca and the pod eating the tongue of a humpback hunted by whalers, and the second shows his mother commanding the pod to save a drowning man and assisting fishermen and whalers in their hunts. The third image mirrors the first only with no fish being given to the orcas and the fourth mirrors the second only with the pod refusing to save the drowning man or assist in the hunts. I agree to his basic deal, marveling at the intelligence of orcas in being able to conceptualize and agree to deals not only with other pods but humans as well.
The brief interaction between the fishermen and the driver has me thinking about the pod of eight orcas and the reputation they've been unintentionally cultivating amongst the whalers and fishermen of Wolfsport.
Before I started skinchanging, spotted whales were seen as any other whale, game to be hunted when possible, and left alone when not. After a certain milk-eyed spotted whale saved my brother from drowning, I forbid the hunting of spotted whales. While some whalers grumbled, most accepted it since spotted whales were rarely hunted anyways and saving my brother bought a lot of goodwill from the people. Since then, the pod has assisted in the hunt of gray whales on two separate occasions and another humpback, providing Wolfsport with much needed whalebone and oil. The pod recently herded a large school of salmon into the nets of awaiting fishermen in return for a portion of the catch and now the fishermen and whalers have begun to give offerings of fish to the orcas in hopes of receiving the blessing of a sea messenger. The Old Gods of the Forest may dwell on land, but they are gods of nature itself and naturally, the sea falls within their domain. The direwolf was chosen by the Starks for their sigil for a reason, the direwolf has always been revered by the First Men and Children as divine messengers. I used the rescue of my brother to outlaw the hunting of orcas, citing them as the "direwolves of the sea, and thus the messengers of the Old Gods through the sea".
I made it all up, of course. Thanks to the complete lack of any uniform or codified worship of the Old Gods, the smallfolk seem to believe my bullshit divine connection between the spotted whales and the Old Gods.
After eating the salmon, the driver dives back into the depths of the bay and meets up with the gathered pod. They lazily swim around, having some type of debate between themselves on what to do or what to hunt.
Click Click Click Click Click
A string of loud clicks reverberates throughout the bay with the volume of someone screaming in your ear. After a short pause, another series of clicks with long whine that lowered in pitch as it went on finishing it. I recognize the type of beast that makes these noises, having heard them before with the driver, faintly like a whisper.
When I first heard it I asked the driver what kind of animal was making that kind of noise. When it answered with a mental image of a fully grown leviathan, I remember getting excited thinking one was about to swim into Sea Dragon Bay only for my host to amusingly note that the leviathan making the sounds was thousands of miles away communicating with another one of it's kind over vast differences. I knew sperm whales were the loudest animals on earth and could communicate over thousands of miles but it was a completely different thing to faintly hear a leviathan and realize it was a probably off the coast of Lonely Light.
This one, however, sounds much closer. I ask the driver how close the leviathan making the current sounds and he estimates that it's around fifty miles away. If that's how loud they sound from fifty miles away, I shudder to think how loud it'd be next to one. The pod continues to swim along, knowing the massive beast is still a far distance away, though noticeably more tense, like a herd of deer catching the faintest scent of a wolf.
On Earth, orcas are the apex predators of the sea, capable of hunting whales larger than themselves and no natural predators of their own. Here, orcas can still prey on whales larger than them but they aren't apex predators, that title belongs to leviathans. They have no natural predators and are only hunted by the Ibbenese, which is why I'm so determined to get my hands on one of their ship schematics. Not only would it allow us to hunt leviathans, it would allow us to hunt large whales further out at sea by harvesting the whale next to the ship instead of dragging it to the shore.
The pod swims towards the shallower waters of the shoreline and proceeds to hunt seals. The driver dives below a group of seals before charging at one and delivering a devastating smack that launches it high in the air. The rest of the pack scatter and when the unfortunate victim hits the water a moment later, the dazed seal becomes an easy breakfast for the driver. As the orcas chews on his meal I feel a strange sensation, as if someone is shaking me. I check to see if it's the driver trying to communicate when I feel it again.
Suddenly my eyes open and I'm staring at the canopy of our bed. I sit up and glance over to my heavily pregnant who looks at me with a serious look on her face.
"Hugo, my water broke." I stare at her dumbly before the words register in my brain and I immediately call for the wetnurse. In a hectic blur, I escort my wife with a maid to the birthing chambers…
Later…
After several hours labor that ended up requiring the use of forceps to correct a malposition of the babe, I hold little Jeyne Seastark in my arms as Myrra lays on the bed, awake yet resting. Golden blonde hair but with the same greenish-gray eyes of her siblings, she is named after Myrra's friend Jeyne Grafton nee Farman. We agreed to name her Jeyne after her friend's fifth child was born Myrra Grafton.
The Seastarks still in Castle Warg are in the chambers with us, with mother holding a four-and-ten moon old Stannis while Jonnel and Breyna plays with an Asha that recently celebrated her third nameday and the twins, themselves a few moons shy of three, after the toddlers lost interest in their newest sibling. Elsa holds Wyman's eight moon old son Bennard, born a moon before the expedition left and named after our grandfather. The midwife and her assistants leave to wash their hands with soap and clean the forceps with boiled wine.
"I hope Quentyn isn't too upset about my brother becoming House Seastark's second knight." I say with a smile and Myrra softly chuckles at the reference to the royal proclamation of Prince Stannis' victory against the Dothraki in the "Battle of Morosh".
That had come a moon ago and was sparse on details, only that the Dothraki had been defeated, the city saved, the prince sailing for Saath, and a list of knighthoods and achievements. Edric was mentioned twice. The first was that he was knighted for fighting two weeks in the siege with five and twenty Sea Wolves and slaying the heir to Khal Motho. The second is that he was saved by Petyr Baelish of all people
"He'll have to settle for the acclaimed title of 'House Seastark's third knight'". Myrra japes and the adults chuckle. The lad in question is with his father, Ser Normund, the fosterlings, and former prince Jalabhar Xho at the archery range with the Summer Islander leading the lessons. Jalabhar, like most Summer Islander princes, is a skilled archer since his people heavily prize the skill, more than riding or melee combat.
At first, the castle garrison thought his skill was due only to his goldenheart bow, made from the famous wood found only in the Summer Islands. But when given a simple yew bow, the former prince hit a near bulls-eye from one hundred yards, silencing his critics. I gave him the honor of teaching archery to my fosterlings, except Tyrion, who is unable to use a bow and is using a crossbow instead.
For a moment I stand there with my family, holding my newborn daughter and bask in the peace. A knock on the door breaks the peace, opening to reveal Maester Armond with a raven scroll.
"A raven from King's Landing my lord. It's from Dagwell." The maester's words cause the adults and Jonnel to snap their heads at him, knowing a message from Dagwell meant news about Edric and their voyage.
"That it's from the capital is a good sign." I say hopefully as I take the message and unfurl it. My eyes scan the scroll written in a Caesar cipher to make it unreadable to anyone without the key. I hand Jeyne over to Myrra before deciphering the scroll and writing out a translated version on a separate scroll.
As I decipher the phrase "At Hell's heart I stab at thee!" I smile, the phrase being the code for the successful acquisition of the ship schematics. I continue to decipher, unsure if they accidently added a zero when the refugees are mentioned and finish writing out Dagwell's encrypted scroll. I silently read the decrypted message in full and my reactions range from pride, confusion, to frustration at my brother's actions.
"Hugo? Is Edric alright?" My mother asks me and I hand over the decrypted message.
"Edric got the schematics and is safe! He traded the secrets to our farming implements, the rocket stoves, the canning process, the saw mill, and our perfumes to obtain it!" I note he didn't give away the secrets to the wayfinders, backstaffs and my metalworks. The words bring cheer and relief to my family. Arsa and the twins look around at the adults knowing something is going on but not understanding what.
"Edric deflowered a Lorathi princess and she carries his child! Now her father, the Prince of the Streets is demanding compensation!" My mother exclaims upon reading that part of the message and the rest of my family looks scandalized.
"What will happen to the child? Are they asking for compensation?" My goodsister Elsa asks and I shrug.
"There is no mention of what they intend to do with the child. Although I wouldn't be surprised if the Ennarhan family wishes to keep him." I answer to the surprise of the room.
"But wouldn't they be worried about the bastard possibly inheriting the title of prince?" Myrra asks in confusion.
"The title of Prince of Lorath is elected, not inherited. Meaning there's little to no threat of them ever becoming a Prince. They could possibly inherit the family's lands and wealth, but not the title of Prince." I respond.
"As for compensation, the Lorathi prince is demanding we pay for the transport of over a thousand former slaves and a hundred beasts of burden to Wolfsport!" My mother continues to read the decrypted letter. My family reacts with a barrage of questions.
"Are we getting new people?" Little nine namedays old Breyna asks.
"Surely he means over a hundred, right?" Elsa asks.
"Where did Edric find that many people willing to come all the way here?" Jonnel puts in his two cents.
"How much is this going to cost?" My wife inquires and I wince thinking about the expense.
"Dagwell says the transport fleet is chartered five-and-ten galleys for five thousand gold. You wouldn't need that many for a hundred people and some cattle. No, were about to get a large intake of people in the middle of winter. Armond!" I address the maester. "Can we handle taking in a thousand people in a two or three moons?"
"I'm unsure, my lord. Wolfsport already has more people sheltering here than previous winters. Even with the additional housing you ordered constructed outside the walls it'll be difficult to accommodate a thousand people in winter. We may have to settle them elsewhere until spring." The maester answers and I consider his words.
"What about the castle hamlet and Stillport? We can send them there to lessen the burden on Wolfsport." I ask Armond and he mulls over my words.
"We may be able to accommodate a hundred in the castle hamlet and two or three hundred in Stillport. At worse, we can send them to Amber Hill or Flatmire if they're able to make the journeys." I nod and order him to begin preparations for their arrival. The maester acknowledges the order and leaves us.
"Finally, Dagwell reports that Edric presented your gift to the king on his nameday, the rocket stove drawing interest from the courtiers, and the queen is due to give birth in a moon." My mother finishes reading out the letter. The Seastark family begins discussing the latest news about Edric's knighthood, the coming settlers, the whaling ship schematics, and so on. I just stand there, watching my wife hold our newest child and quietly enjoy the moment…
A/N: I was going to type more but decided to cut it off here. Not much in this chapter other than we see Hugo deepening the partnership between orcas and humans. We see a bit of the cultural impact of orcas/spotted whales saving and working with people as they are starting to be seen as sacred animals. Hugo and his family also celebrate the birth of his second and finally get an update from Dagwell and Edric. Next chapter will be the arrival of the refugees and the later arrival of Wyman and the Yi-Ti expedition. Enjoy!