The scrap of cloth he held out to me was blotchy and uneven, an almost tie dye blend of lighter and darker pinks.
"That's a shame," I sighed. "Such a bright red would have been worth quite a lot."
"Aye, it would have, milady," he agreed. "On the other hand… look at this."
Harri showed me another scrap of cloth, a bright sky blue, almost a powder blue. It strongly reminded me of the bright blue of a glacial cave, though slightly paler.
"That's lovely!" I exclaimed, taking the cloth in hand and looking closely at it. "However did you come up with this?"
"Adrya has been making winter rose water," Harri commented. "She didn't need the petals no more, so I took them to see what could be done with them."
"This… is made from winter roses?" I asked, eyes wide.
"Aye, it is," he confirmed with a somewhat nervous nod. "If that was alright…"
I smiled reassuringly at him. "It is as you said; Adrya had no use for the petals once she was done with them. In fact, I'm pleased that you found a use for them; it would have been a waste to simply throw them away."
He sighed with relief.
"Though," I continued, "I think it is only appropriate that we call this color Winter Blue, don't you think?"
"Aye, milady," he agreed. "The name is fitting."
"I think I will have a dress made in this color," I mused. "Do you think you could provide me with enough cloth in this color to make one?"
"I'll make you a whole bolt of it, milady," he replied with a determined look on his face.
"Thank you. You've been doing an excellent job, Harri," I reassured him. "I am pleased to have you in my employ."
"Thank you, milady!"
"I should go," I told him, handing him back the winter blue scrap of cloth. "Dinner will be ready in the Great Hall shortly."
"Don't let me keep you, milady."
"I shan't," I answered with a slight chuckle. "Until next time, Harri."
"Where is Benjen?" I asked as the servants began laying out large platters of roasted boar, venison, and even a whole roasted honeyed duck on the high table. Other dishes, such as steamed green beans, buttered peas, roasted tubers that tasted somewhat like rutabagas, and many others were served to accompany the meats. Baskets of freshly baked rolls and a small platter of lemon cakes rounded out the offering, and I could already feel my mouth watering at the succulent scents that assaulted my nose.
"Lord Benjen rode out on a hunt late this morning," Vayon replied. As the steward of Winterfell, he and his wife had a place at the high table, save for when other visiting nobility crowded them out. Maester Luwin, too, as well as other highly ranked members of the household were offered the same privilege. Vayon continued, "He said he would return in a sennight or so."
"That boy," I muttered. Benjen wasn't quite of age yet, but my Lord husband had entrusted Winterfell to him for the duration of the war. Despite being the Lady of Winterfell, his elder, and his goodsister, I had little authority over him by either law or custom, and in practice, I had none at all. Not that Benjen caused me any real trouble; while he occasionally questioned or teased me about my various mercantile pursuits, he hadn't tried to impede me in any way. About the only trouble I had with him was that, as a young man, he sometimes passed off his responsibilities to either myself or the steward in favor of more entertaining pursuits, such as hunting. But despite my lack of authority over him, as an adult (even if a young one, by this body's age) I felt responsible for his safety. Something that I couldn't ensure if he was out galavanting around the Wolfswood.
"Did he at least take an escort?" I asked Vayon with a put-upon sigh.
"He rode out with a half-dozen other hunters and a dozen household guards," the steward replied.
"Well, at least he isn't alone out there," I muttered. Setting the problem aside, I began filling my plate. As I did so, I asked, "Vayon, how are the latest figures?"
"Your income is quite good, but I fear there will soon be problems," he replied.
"Oh?"
"Your factor, Rickard, was unable to purchase all of our current stock," he continued. "Given that you have Garalt making you four more spinning machines and another loom, I fear you are producing goods quicker than he can sell them."
"Already?" I asked in surprise. "I had thought, given his connections with other merchants throughout the North, that he would be able to act as an intermediary. He is sending me wool from many of his contacts; I had thought that those contacts would be able to buy our cloth and yarn in turn."
"They have been, my lady," Vayon answered, "but his contacts only extend through the southern and central parts of the North, and all in House Stark's lands. The more far-flung areas simply aren't receiving your goods."
"Damn," I muttered under my breath. "Well, we can't have too much of our stock simply sitting in the storerooms. Perhaps it is time to sell to other interested buyers?"
"That would be wise, my lady," Vayon diplomatically answered.
"Hmm… I know that White Harbor is the main trading hub along the eastern coast, and our largest port, but what about the west coast?"
"Given the sparse population along the western shore, there is little coastal trade," he answered. "Torrhen's Square does some trade along the southwest coast, and the occasional merchantman from the Westerlands is known to dock there. The only other port of any size is on Bear Island, but most of their trade is with Winterfell by way of Deepwood Motte."
"Hmm," I grumbled. I mulled over the problem for a time as I worked my way through my dinner. It would be rather easy to simply send my excess stock to White Harbor; the merchants there would no doubt buy what I had on hand. Anything they couldn't sell locally would be put on a ship, bound either for other keeps along the eastern coast, or down to Gulltown in the Vale. But, if I began shipping cloth to the other Kingdoms without ensuring that the other noble houses of the North had the opportunity to acquire some, it would be seen as a slight against them. As a Southron lady, the sting of that insult would not soon be forgotten.
Though Rickard's network encompassed both Torrhen's Square and Barrowton, those two locations, as well as other regions they were trading with, would have at least some access to my cloth. Still, if I didn't offer it directly, it could spell trouble later on down the line.
"Maester Luwin," I said after a while, setting my fork down on my plate. "After dinner, I will need you to draft a letter to the Tallharts, the Glovers, and the Mormonts."
"If I may ask, what should these letters say?"
"We will explain the situation," I replied with a shrug. "Tell them that I've started making yarn and cloth here in the North, that I have more than is needed for the Stark lands and the surrounding areas. Before I begin exporting my products to the other Kingdoms or to Essos, I think it prudent to offer my husband's allies and vassals the option to purchase what they want, and at very reasonable prices."
"And what about the other vassals?" Luwin asked. "The Umbers, the Karstarks, the Boltons…?"
"I think I would like to give the western coast a bit of a jumpstart," I tentatively replied. Seeing Luwin's doubtful look, I hastily added, "Only by a few moons or so! The eastern Houses can survive that long."
Luwin considered me for a brief moment, then nodded. "I think we can accomplish that quite easily, my lady."
"I would hope so," I replied with a teasing lilt. "You'd make a poor Maester if you couldn't write a few letters."
The Maester chuckles with good humor. "Then you will be pleased to note that I am not , in fact, a poor Maester."
"As if there was ever any doubt," I replied.