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POV: Arthur Stark
[ The river road, the lands of the Dreadfort ]
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The next morning, eleven carts were moving towards the Fort. There were hens in baskets, tools covered with blankets and an anvil lashed down with rope. One man called the children back to their parents when he saw the escort. Perseu had the road cleared, and Rhoslyn rode up to the first cart to ask where they had come from. The answers passed from one family to the next until she had counted forty grown men and women and seventeen children, out of three Hornwood villages.
The man leading the column took off his cap and showed the tally sticks kept inside a cloth, each with its notches and the mark of the Hornwood steward. The share of the harvest owed to the lord had been handed over, and the days of service were served. Two woodcutters had served out all the time the lord's sawmill had taken them for; a third was still arguing with the steward over whether the axe and saw he carried were his or his lord's. Rhoslyn set that name apart from the rest. "That case has to be settled before he takes work. Bring the stick to the gate and tell the scribe who gave you the tools. As for the others, there is temporary lodging for seven days. After that they will have to keep themselves by work or by tillage."
The man put the sticks away, though he kept the cap in his hands. "Halmar Hornwood is coming up the road, my lord. Letters have already gone out over the ones who left before. If he asks us to go back, can we still stay?"
The woman sitting behind him took hold of a child by the waist and pulled her away from the wheel. I leaned down a little in the saddle to answer without making him raise his voice. "If there is a debt or service owed, your House can bring it forward. It can also bring a charge, which we will have to examine. No one will take your family from here only because you came looking for work."
Moons before, I had forbidden my recruiters to enter neighbouring lands without leave. New arrivals were written down at the gate, and any obligations put forward by other Houses went through Rhoslyn and Eldric. The families kept coming. The column began moving again when Perseu drew the guards out of the way. Rhoslyn waited for the last cart to pass and checked that the woodcutter's stick had gone back into the right hands. "Halmar will most likely begin with this," she said, settling the paper. "He will want a ruling from you that stops another eleven carts from leaving."
"He will have his chance to put the request," I answered, watching the anvil until it went out of sight around the bend. "I want the names checked before the meeting. I do not intend to argue over a debt no one has verified." Rhoslyn gave a message to the scout who would ride ahead and told him to take it to Olyvar. We took up the road again and reached the sawmill before midday. The men went on cutting while the overseer showed us the beams meant for the quay.
Late in the afternoon we took ship at the place agreed with the boatmen. The cart, the horses and the escort were divided among the vessels made ready for the return. We passed marked sandbars and a stretch where the current called for the animals to help from the bank. The channel widened near the Fort. Only shallow barges could come up loaded that far; cargo off the larger ships had to be passed into them near the mouth. In the basin where the harbour was taking shape, the barges worked in against the quay without touching bottom, and the work on the narrower reaches of the river went on by stages.
The first stone quay stood half-built, and cargo still came down onto a wooden platform beside it. In the small yard, the carpenters were refitting two barges bought from the fishermen at the mouth. Beyond the stacks of beams, a palisade divided the harbour from the occupied districts, with a gate where Perseu's men checked what went in and out. The future wall would follow the basin and join the landward defences. The ground it needed was already marked out, so that no temporary warehouse would have to come down when the time came for that stretch.
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The parties had already arrived. I saw the Manderly merman on the moored vessels and the Karstark men among the baggage. Crossing the gate, I found the Hornwood banners near the lodgings and, beside them, the chained giant of the Umbers. A thick voice was coming from the workshop yard before I handed my reins to the squire. Greatjon Umber stood in front of the smaller workshop, with Tobho set against the door and two apprentices gathering up shavings that did not need gathering.
"A locked door in a forge is only good for hiding something," the Umber complained, rapping his knuckles on the wood beside the bolt. "I came down from Last Hearth to see these swords that come out of stones. So far I have seen smoke and a sour-faced Qohorik."
Tobho did not move. He crossed his arms over his apron and lifted his chin to meet the eyes of a man a head and a half taller than himself. "No one goes in here without the lord's order. Not even men the size of the door."
Greatjon turned at the sound of the horses and opened his arms. "And there is the master of the forge. They say you feed a mountain with stones and it gives you back swords. Tell this man to let me through before I pull the door off and take it with me."
I dismounted without hurrying and handed the reins to the squire before answering. "The door is mine, Lord Umber. So is the man leaning on it. Lay a hand on either and you leave by the same gate you came in."
The yard went quiet. One of the apprentices dropped the shavings he was holding. Greatjon stared at me with his arms still open, and for a moment his face did not decide what to do. Then he threw his head back and let out a laugh that made the nearest horses shy. "Stark blood. That does not wash out, not even in boiling water." He lowered his arms and struck his own chest with his hand. "Your pardon, my lord. I spoke as though I were in my own hall."
I took the hand he offered, and the grip left my fingers numb to the wrist. "Tobho can show you the great shed and the converter, from the line marked on the ground. The smaller workshop stays shut."
The Umber stepped away from the door, leaving room for the smith. "Then show me what I am allowed to see, master smith."
Behind him, a cart was crossing the yard with stones taken out of the lower chambers. Greatjon followed the load to the passage it had come from and stopped before the gap left in the old masonry. The laughter left his face before the cart reached the gate.
"My father brought me here when I was small," Greatjon said. His hand went down to his belt and stayed there. "He told me to keep close to him, to take no food and to go into no room alone. I remember thinking he only wanted to keep me from wandering the castle." The Umber smoothed his beard with the back of his hand and let the cart finish crossing the gate before he went on. "Then I grew up and heard what they did behind those doors."
I showed him the passage that led to the old torture chambers. "We pulled those chambers down first. The stone worth keeping goes into the foundations and the service walls. The towers holding the approaches are still in use; I need them while the new defences go up."
Greatjon stood looking at the gap until the dust settled. "My father would have liked to see this," he said, without taking his eyes off the masonry. "When I ride home, I will tell my men that the Bolton walls are turning into footings."
I met the representatives of the three parties in the map room two hours later, each with two companions. Greatjon came in behind them with no paper to present and took a chair near Tobho, stretching his legs where a servant had to step around them to pour the wine. Rhoslyn opened the sheets Eldric had chosen for the meeting. Perseu stayed by the door; Olyvar brought the accounts asked for during the journey and left once he had handed them over, since the stores were still taking the last loads of the day.
Halmar Hornwood began with the families who had left their villages. He was a cousin of Lord Hornwood, and his hands carried the marks of the reins, for all the care of his visiting clothes. He smoothed a crease in the paper with the heel of his palm before setting it in front of me, and kept two fingers on the edge after pushing it across. "My cousin acknowledges that your recruiters kept to the agreement. Not one has come back onto our lands. The families keep leaving all the same. Today I passed the same eleven carts your men counted at the gate. Three of our villages will go into the sowing with fewer people than they had at the last harvest."
Rhoslyn brought over the paper Olyvar had left and turned it to face Halmar. "There is a dispute over tools that has yet to be examined. The rest served their days and handed over their share of the harvest," she said.
Halmar ran his eyes down the names without touching the sheet, and lingered on two of them before raising his face. "I know some of these men. It is because they worked for us for years that my cousin wants to keep others from leaving in the middle of sowing or harvest. He asks that your gates turn away workers coming straight off neighbouring lands during those seasons."
I kept the paper open in front of me and set my forearms on the table. "And after turning them away? Are my guards to escort children and carts back to the villages?"
Halmar raised his hand over the sheet, palm down, asking me to let him finish. "The smallfolk have always stayed on the land where they were born, my lord. If any family can leave it because another lord pays better, no lord in the North will know how many hands he has for the next harvest. A known rule at least keeps them from setting out before they have shelter elsewhere. We also need to discuss the wages offered to woodcutters and sawyers. The difference has grown until the stewards cannot hold their crews together."
I moved my cup away to keep it off the papers. "The wages paid here will go on being decided here. My men will check debts and service owed; they will not shut the gates on families who have met their obligations." Halmar drew a second sheet from inside the cover and laid it over the first, squaring the edges with his thumb before letting go. Greatjon shifted in his chair, making its foot grate against the floor, and held his peace. Rhoslyn left space in her ledger and waited for the new proposal.
"Lord Hornwood offers timber in fixed quantities for three years, with first claim for your purchases and prices agreed before winter," Halmar said. "He wants tools when your production allows: four hundred ploughshares, six hundred axes, two hundred saws and ironwork for three mills. In steel, like the ones you gave your villages. My cousin had me repeat the word in front of you, because he did not believe the man who brought him the news. If some work takes fewer hands, we can bear part of the leaving." He pushed the sheet towards Tobho, keeping one hand on the rest of the documents.
The smith drew the paper to the edge of the table and tilted it against the light from the window. He checked the saws first, then the ironwork, marking the numbers with his nail. I asked him to leave it with me. "I can buy timber and discuss future deliveries of tools. That does not change my answer about the workers. Nor will I pay compensation for families who came of their own will."
Halmar closed his hand the way a man shortens a rein and set his fist on the edge of the table. "My cousin will hear that he is to supply timber while his woodcutters cross the border. He counts hands before he counts coin, my lord. He will ask why the tools that spare hands must still wait."
I pointed at the nail marks Tobho had left beside the numbers. "Because our own villages need them. An iron share bends three times a season and goes back to the forge each time; a steel one opens the same field for years, and the man pushing it spends those years planting instead of standing in line at the smithy. The bars you saw in the yards are meant for ploughs, mines, workshops and arms. When there is a surplus, the Hornwoods will have first claim on the farm tools we negotiate. Bring me an order of preference among the items; we can begin with the most urgent when there is material to spare." Halmar stayed there with his documents open, his palm still on the cover. He took up the sheet of families, folded it slowly and left the one with the tools in front of Tobho. Rhoslyn noted the points agreed and read them aloud so he could check them.
Ser Marlon Manderly spread his parchment over the map of the river. It held depths, transfer points and the measures of vessels. He pinned one end with his cup and began with the cargo he had brought. "The salt can be unloaded tomorrow, and the carpenters Lord Manderly sent need to see the yard before we settle how long they stay. The present agreement serves us. Every day a barge waits at the mouth is a day paid to idle men, and that goes into your price as surely as the salt does. My lord wants the agreement widened while there is still room to choose where he puts his money."
He ran his finger along the link between the coast and our barges, stopping at each transfer point before going on. "White Harbour has ships and sailors who know the whole coast, from the Bite to the mouth of the Weeping Water. Your workshops are beginning to make steel in quantity. We would like first offer on carrying the large shipments when the selling starts."
Rhoslyn drew the parchment closer, uncovering the drawing of the basin. "First offer for how long? And are we free to hire another carrier if your terms do not suit us?"
Marlon lifted his cup off the clause and turned it by the base before answering. "Five years. You may refuse the price, the date or the vessel. My lord only asks that you hear our terms before closing with another House. He also wants chains, anchors, nails of one size and long saws when there is any to spare. He already knows the first deliveries belong to your own works." Rhoslyn marked the clause on refusal and asked that the final copy carry that freedom with no conditions attached.
"We can deal with the boats, the salt and the craftsmen at once," I answered, bringing the harbour accounts closer. "Any future dealing in steel stands subject to what the workshops can supply. I will not set aside cargo my own lands are still waiting on." Marlon accepted that this be set down in writing and went over transport dates with Rhoslyn. When the talk reached the shallow reaches of the river, he called over a companion who knew the crossing. The two of them marked where vessels would have to shift their loads, while Tobho moved the samples clear of the ink.
Arnolf Karstark waited for the Manderly parchment to be rolled up. Lord Karstark's uncle sat crooked in his chair, his right shoulder lifted by the hump, and had to lean his whole body to draw his own sheet from inside his belt. He held it out with both hands, smoothing the middle of it against the table. Fifteen hundred spearheads, two hundred and fifty swords, helms, plate and reinforcement for armour, to be delivered over three years. Tobho ran down the quantities to the end without touching his wine. "These pieces take more than bars," he said, setting the paper beside the test sword. "There are men to forge, fit, temper and check every one of them. My crews already have work set."
Arnolf left the sheet where it lay and turned his attention to the test sword on the cloth, measuring the length of the blade with his eyes before coming back to me. "Lord Karstark expected first claim. Karhold has held the eastern coast since before there was a Dreadfort, and we are Stark blood. The reports reaching our lands speak of steel enough to arm armies." He pushed his cup away from his elbow, like a man clearing space on a map table. "I have also heard that a good part of it becomes a hoe. I did not believe it, until I saw what your ploughmen carry on the road."
Tobho made a noise through his nose and leaned forward. I put my hand on the paper before he could answer and waited for the smith to sit back. "We are still arming my own companies. The militia is using part of the old stock, and the output also serves the mines and the building works. I will not take that order now."
Arnolf took his hand off the table and settled it on his knee. It was a while before he spoke again, and his voice came out lower. "My lord does not intend to stand behind buyers from the south when your workshops grow."
I kept the sheet between us and pointed out the items that would take the most work. "When there are military sales in quantity, the Karstarks will have preference over southern Houses. Until then, they wait like the rest. The arms we brought to show today will be judged by your lords; they are not the beginning of a supply."
He turned to Perseu, looking for his face above the table. "How many men are still waiting on equipment? That would help us judge how long we must wait."
Perseu stayed by the door, one hand at his belt, and waited for me to answer. I let the silence hold for two beats before I spoke. "The garrison's numbers are no part of this agreement. I can tell you what will be available for sale when there is a shipment. I will not hand you the military inventory so you can work out a date."
Arnolf brought his attention back to the table and drew his hand into his lap. "Perhaps I gave too much weight to what I heard about these forges."
Tobho drew the test sword and laid it on the cloth, well clear of the parchments, turning it so the light ran along the edge. "You may examine the steel. Then ask your own men what they saw in the cut and the temper. As for quantity, you have heard from me what I can deliver." Arnolf leaned towards the blade and followed the line from point to guard, his hands still in his lap. Neither of them went back to the order before Tobho put the sheet away.
The smith then drew off the cloths covering four chests. The first held a sword with the Hornwood moose on the pommel. In the second, a sword and a dagger carried the Manderly merman worked into the guards. The third held a longsword with the white sun of the Karstarks in darkened silver. The waves in the steel showed when the blades were tilted towards the window. The fourth chest, longer and deeper than the others, sat in front of Greatjon. He looked at it, then at me, and did not touch it.
"These are gifts for your lords," I explained, watching Halmar draw his sword partway from its scabbard. "They can test the work and send me their observations. Any order will be negotiated separately." I nodded at the long chest with my chin. "That one is yours, Greatjon. Open it when you like."
Arnolf came over to Tobho with his own chest resting on his forearm. "These lines put me in mind of Valyrian steel. Is that what men are seeing when they start spreading stories?" Tobho took the sword by the guard and raised it without letting his fingers near the edge.
"The pattern comes from the layers of steel we join during the forging. Valyrian steel is lighter, and it holds an edge in a way we still do not know how to match." He handed the weapon back with the hilt turned towards the other man. "These blades are better than the common steel I made before I came here. Your own smith can confirm that without believing any story."
Arnolf settled the sword in its chest, keeping it open across his knees. "And could he learn the method? I can bring men able to work alongside yours."
"Your smiths may study the gift, measure it and test how it behaves," I answered, laying the cloth back inside the chest. "The teaching of the method stays under my leave. We will take no apprentices from other Houses for that work." Arnolf ran his thumb along the wooden edge and closed the lid slowly, keeping his hand on it once it was shut. Marlon was already asking Rhoslyn how the gifts would be packed for the journey; Halmar stayed near the window, studying the moose on the pommel.
Greatjon pulled the last chest over and lifted the lid. Inside lay a long-hafted war axe, with the chained giant of the Umbers cut into the eye. He took it out one-handed and weighed it twice, his brow drawn down. "You took weight off it," he charged, turning his head towards Tobho. "An axe for me has to stand up to my arm. So that was what you were hiding behind the door."
The smith did not rise. "I took the excess off the back. The edge still has material enough, and the eye is fitted to the haft. Strike a blow before you decide it needs more metal."
The Umber was already on his feet. We went down to the yard with half the room behind us, and Tobho had an apprentice fix an old shield against a wooden frame. Greatjon struck it below the central boss. The blade opened the leather and went into the wood; when he pulled the haft back, part of the boards came away with it. Tobho stepped up to look at the edge, but Greatjon kept the weapon, turning it to the light. "Insolent Qohorik. You did it on purpose, to hear me complain."
The smith held out his hand until the axe came to it. He ran his nail along the edge, checked the fitting and gave it back. "The haft is firm. The first blow bedded it well. Use the leather cover on the road; I do not want to hear of that weapon tied loose on a baggage horse."
Greatjon caught him in a one-armed embrace, forcing him to turn his face from the apron. "If my men see this, I will spend the whole ride home listening to requests. Perhaps I should send you the bill." He let Tobho go to the laughter of the Hornwood companions. Rhoslyn had already gone back inside with the papers from the meeting, to separate the purchases from the orders we could not yet meet.
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POV: Arthur Stark
[ The Dreadfort, that night ]
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The feast took the largest sound room in the old wing. Grey tapestries with direwolves covered the marks left by the Bolton banners. Near the high table, a crack ran along the wall and disappeared under the edge of a hanging. The windows had been widened, and the shutters stayed closed against the wind. The braziers warmed the nearer tables best, leaving the servants on the far side of the room with their hands pushed into their sleeves while they waited to serve.
Greatjon took the seat he was shown and studied the place where the brackets of the flayed man had been torn out. "Will you be receiving us here until the new hall is done?" he asked, pushing the bench back to make room for his legs. I set down my cup and confirmed that we would use the wing while it was sound. He ran his hand over the new table, then went back to the wall. "I would have trouble sleeping with half those chambers underneath me."
Rhoslyn sat on my other side, with the notes from the meeting folded beside her plate. "The chambers in use have been inspected. Pulling this wing down now would mean building other lodgings to wait for the permanent ones," she said, moving the papers aside when a servant brought the platter. Greatjon accepted the explanation with a motion of his cup and held out his plate to the servant passing with the meat. She handed the notes to an attendant and only then began to eat.
After the first courses, I opened the plan on a side table. The representatives came over to study the run of the walls, the broad streets, the harbour and the castle at the centre. Towers of pale stone enclosed the private wood; channels ran under the streets, and the training ground took an open area beside the garrison's quarters. Marlon followed the drawing until he found the harbour basin. "How much is left of the whole? I heard seven years this afternoon."
Rhoslyn set a weight on the corner of the sheet before answering. "The first plan was laid out over eight years. Part of the first has already gone. We will open each part as it is finished, and the dates depend on what the weather allows."
Marlon worked a sum with his fingertip on the table, without touching the drawing. I pointed out the parts in use that would stay in use. "The workshops and the quay do not have to wait for the last chamber of the castle. That is why we keep the approaches separate from the foundations."
Halmar followed one of the main streets to the landward gate. "Do you mean to go on calling all of it the Dreadfort? My cousin will need a name to put on the timber agreements."
I kept my hand on the edge of the parchment while a servant passed with wine. "Use the Dreadfort. When the new town and the castle are standing, the maps will be redrawn. There is a great deal of stone to lay before that." Halmar nodded and took his hand back from the drawing, leaving Marlon to measure the warehouse ground with his eyes.
As we went back to our places, the Hornwood stopped by the window. The smoke of the workshops showed above the roofs, lit from below by the odd flare. "I hope your men can explain what they do in there. Among the stories that reach the villages, there are some who say you walk into the furnace and come out carrying swords." Kevin, sitting beside Tobho, left his bread on his plate and leaned over the table. The smith caught the movement and held his cup where it was, waiting.
"That story reached you unfinished," Kevin declared. "The stones already have the swords inside them. The miners have to work out where to open them. Arthur goes into the fire to check that they chose the right ones." Greatjon began laughing before Kevin went on. "Fenrir and Hela warm the ones that go cold along the way, though only when they are in a good mood. That is why not every load can become a sword."
Tobho set his cup down hard on the table. "Any man who goes into that converter will die. I hope you understood that before you carry the story to a village," he said to Halmar.
Kevin tore off a piece of bread, making a show of devoting himself to his food. "Smiths take their secrets very seriously. See how he answers when someone comes near the method." Tobho caught him on the shoulder with another piece of bread. Kevin picked it up and set it beside the first, to Greatjon's laughter.
The Umber drank more wine and found Morghaz sitting further along. He pushed his bench back, opening space beside the table. "You owe me a bout. Let us see whether the floor can hold the pair of us, with no blades and nothing spilled."
Morghaz set down his cup and began to rise, tucking his tunic into his belt. I put my arm out in front of Greatjon before he could shove another bench aside. "Tomorrow, in the yard. This room has had work enough out of the carpenters."
Greatjon sat back down, pulling his bench into place. "The yard is full of mud. If I go down, they will say I slipped."
Morghaz finished settling his belt, sat again and gave him a wide grin. "I will allow you that excuse tomorrow. Come before the drills start."
The Umber pointed at him with his cup and then found Razdhan near Belzakar. "And you come after. I have seen what you do with the recruits. I want to find out whether it works when the man opposite has already learned to hold a weapon."
Razdhan set an elbow on the table and measured the space Greatjon had just opened. "After Morghaz," he answered. "If you are still standing, you will find me there."
The Umber laughed and turned to Belzakar. "Do you fight as well, or will you go on studying me until the night is out?"
Belzakar finished chewing, laid his knife on the rim of his plate and lifted his head. "Tomorrow you will have two men waiting. Finish your food while you can still use your arms."
Arnolf Karstark watched the archers crossing the yard to relieve the workshop guard and waited for the door to close before he spoke. "Those men talk like folk out of the crownlands, my lord. Have you brought southern archers to teach northerners to shoot?"
I left my cup on the table before answering. "I brought men who shoot better than mine and will serve far from home. My recruits have been hitting moving marks since they came. If your lord wishes to see it, send the archers of Karhold to spend a moon in my yard."
The Karstark drank and kept the offer to carry back with him.
Greatjon struck the table with his palm and raised his empty cup towards the nearest servant. Belzakar went back to his meal. While the talk went on, a Karstark companion asked a squire how many men trained under his orders. Near one of the doors, I heard a Hornwood attendant asking about the masons' wages. The Manderly scribe kept his attention on the porters crossing the yard and went over to a harbour man when he came in for instructions.
Eldric rose to take a jug and passed the squire before he could answer the Karstark. I did not hear what he said to him. Shortly after, the lad explained how many men made up a company and pointed to Rhoslyn when they asked him how many there were. The Hornwood attendant was given the apprentices' table of wages. The harbour man brought a sheet from the previous month to the Manderly, pointing out the unloadings while the scribe copied the numbers. Eldric went back to his place and poured himself wine. I kept my attention on Halmar's talk, which had turned to which stretches of the road the timber carts would use.
When the last dishes were taken away, the papers and maps were already put away. Greatjon insisted on carrying the axe up to his chambers himself, and Tobho went after him as far as the stair to remind him of the cover. The companions gathered cloaks, chests and documents. I waited for Halmar to finish speaking with Rhoslyn, walked the visitors to the door and gave Perseu the names of the guards who would stand at the workshops that night. I left the old wing only after the noise of the parties had died away in the corridors.