"Now, this last machine is the most complicated," I explained. "I assume you know how to make a loom, don't you?"
"I do, milady," he nodded.
"One of this particular design?" I pressed.
"It looks a bit like th' looms from Essos," he commented. "A bit different from th' ones I usually make, but I can make 'em."
"Good. The largest difference is this part, here," I explained. "This rope is connected to these two plungers. When someone tugs on the rope, the plunger sends the shuttle flying along this guide bar here until it is caught in this little box. With a little practice, a weaver can weave much faster on this loom. Plus, it's possible to make larger looms like this; it eliminates the need for assistants to throw the shuttle back and forth across a larger loom."
"Tha's righ' clever," the carpenter admitted. "Er. Milady."
"Thank you," I replied. If I had actually been the person to invent these devices, I'd probably be a lot more proud of them than I was, but since I was merely copying devices someone else had already invented, I was rather neutral about them. Well, aside from the textile industry these devices could help usher into the North; that part, and the increased profits it would generate, I would be plenty proud of. If, of course, this carpenter could help me actually build these machines.
"As you can see, all three of these machines work exactly like the tools you're already familiar with," I explained. "Carding brushes, spinning wheels, and looms should be well within your capabilities. The only real difference is the scale; these devices allow one person to do the labor of several people, but otherwise work exactly the same as the machines you're already familiar with."
"And yet, no one has thought up these innovations before, my lady," Maester Luwin replied. "However did you come up with them?"
"Noble ladies are… encouraged to practice needlework. Sewing, embroidery, and so on," I explained. Then, crafting a fake but otherwise believable story, I said, "However, as a young girl, I'd been curious about how the cloth and thread were made. I visited spinners and weavers to see them work their craft. Many times after that, while embroidering, I'd think about how their machines worked and what I could do to improve them. I'd just… never seen the need to implement these ideas before now."
"Well, why now, my lady?" Luwin asked.
"It is as you said; the rest of the Kingdoms don't have the available labor to spin their own yarn and weave their own cloth, so they are less interested in buying the raw wool the North produces," I replied. "For that matter, the North doesn't have the available labor to make enough yarn and cloth to export either. However, with machines like these, I hope to change that. With a little luck, it could help bring in some much needed coin to the North."
"Aye, 't would," Garalt gruffly agreed. "If these machines of yours work. Milady."
"The principle behind their operation is sound," I sharply retorted. "I am hiring you to take these ideas and to make them work. But if you don't think you can do it…"
Garalt was silent for a long moment, his mouth shifting side to side as he thought it over. "Nay, milady, I can make 'em work. As yeh said, they're the same machines I already make, just improved a little bit."
"Excellent," I replied with a bright smile. "In that case, I'll leave you to it. How long do you think it will take you to make the first ones?"
"About three sennights, I 'spose," he replied while stroking his beard. "Per'aps a bit longer, if'n they don't work righ' a' firs'."
"Then I will expect you to report your progress to Maester Luwin each sennights, Garalt," I replied. "Also, if you need additional materials, or if you need to order parts from a blacksmith and you need additional funding, feel free to come visit me. I'll need you to justify the additional expense, but if it's reasonable, I will authorize it."
"Of course, milady."
"Excellent. I look forward to hearing from you," I ended the conversation. "Maester Luwin, shall we return to the castle? Robb is getting a bit restless."
"Of course, milady."
"You're looking well, goodsister," Benjen commented. "It's nice to see you out and about the castle once more."
The Great Hall was as crowded, loud, and rowdy as ever. The castle's inhabitants were in good spirits, and for good reason. The scattered reports from the war were generally positive, the weather has been warmer than was typical for this time of the year (or so I heard; this had been Catelyn's first year at Winterfell), and, of course, there was a new Stark heir in the castle.
"Childbirth is no easy feat," I replied with a gentle smile. "I should probably still be recovering, but I've been growing restless."
"Aye, so I've heard," Benjen replied.
He was a young lad, not quite 16 yet, but was already growing into a fine young man. Less boisterous than Catelyn's memories of the eldest Stark brother, Brandon, but much more animated than Eddard had been on the few occasions she'd met him. Benjen had the typical Stark looks; dark hair, gray eyes, a long face, and sharp features. He still had that air of teenage awkwardness, as he hadn't quite grown into his lanky frame, but time would fix that sooner or later.
"So what did you do on your trip to Winter Town?" he asked. "I can't imagine you'd walk all the way down to the Smoking Log for an ale…"
I snorted. The Smoking Log was a tavern, inn, and brothel, and was a regular fixture for the residents of both Winterfell and Winter Town. There were other taverns, and one other inn, but the Smoking Log was the finest Winter Town had to offer. And, to the best of both my and Catelyn's knowledge, the only brothel. The thought of a noble lady such as myself visiting a brothel so soon after giving birth was a laughable one. Or visiting a brothel at all.
"No, nothing of the sort," I replied with a humorous chuckle. "I visited a carpenter; Old Garalt."
"A carpenter? Whatever for?"
"I have some ideas for spinning and weaving that would allow a worker to make more thread and cloth in the same amount of time," I replied. "Old Garalt will be helping me create these machines."
"Why the sudden interest in spinning?" Benjen asked.
"Maester Luwin was telling me about how, because of the war, the other Kingdoms won't have the labor to turn the wool the North produces into cloth," I explained. "Because of that, the wool we usually export isn't selling."
Benjen tilted his head to the side. "Why does that matter?"
"Wool is one of the few exports the North has," I answered. "If it doesn't sell, we will have less coin to buy food from the South."
Benjen hummed and nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "I see…" he murmured. Looking at me with curiosity, he asked, "So, I take it you want to spin and weave the wool before it leaves the North?"
"Exactly," I agreed with a smile and a nod. "Thread and cloth are in high demand due to the war, and likely will be for some time after the war is over. If we can make good cloth, we can earn some much needed coin."
"So… what, you're going to spin and weave it yourself?" He asked me.
"Heavens no," I laughed. "I'm far too busy with Robb, let alone my duties as Lady of Winterfell. No, I'll be hiring some people to do the spinning and weaving for me."
Benjen chuckled, though from the dusting of pink across his cheeks, I could see that he was embarrassed. Still, the young lad shook it off quickly.
"Speaking of Robb, how is my nephew doing?" He asked.
"He is doing as well as can be expected," I replied. "His appetite is certainly healthy, as are his lungs."
"His lungs?" Benjen asked, confused.
"Well, with the way he screams for attention…" I joked, startling a laugh out of the younger boy. "The wetnurse is watching over him for now, if only so I can get a full meal in before he demands his fill from me."
"Aye, a healthy appetite indeed!" Benjen joked with mirth. He raised his cup of ale towards me and said, "To Robb, and to your health, my lady."
"Aye," I agreed, lifting my own cup of watered wine. I added, "And to a Northern victory as well."