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Chapter 49: Chapter 34: JourneyChapter Text

"The Great Progress of King Viserys I Targaryen holds the record for longest Royal Progress, as well as the record for the largest Royal Progress. Lasting nearly three years, and including a great retinue of three thousand."

-Except from 'The Book of Records', by Maester Guinevere

110 AC, Small Council Chamber

"My lords." I greeted, seating myself in the chair that used to be Otto Hightower's. "Shall we begin?"

There was a murmur of approval through the room, all eyes turning to face the King at the head of the table.

"Oh don't mind me." Viserys smiled proudly. "I'm just here to see my daughter's first Small Council session as Hand of the King."

At least I'd outgrown baby pictures. Now it was Aegon, Helaena and Aemond subjected to those.

"Very well then." I said, swiftly taking command once more. "Onto the first order of business. How goes the harvest?"

It was now a couple of months into spring. The first harvest, planted in the last gasps of winter, should be ready now.

"Bountiful, your grace." Lord Lyman reported. "The Valyrian methods have been used by near all farms throughout the Seven Kingdoms. We will not want for food in the next few years."

"Can I see the figure estimates?" I asked. Lord Lyman nodded, and slid a parchment scroll across the table. I picked it up and read it. With the peacetime increase in population over King Jaehaerys' long reign, a lot of regions in Westeros had stopped being self-sufficient with his tacit blessing. He wanted to bind all six kingdoms closer together, by requiring them to rely on the Reach or Riverlands to help feed them all. Piss each other off, and the table would grow lean.

It was a good idea, and one that had successfully bound the Kingdoms together, but it was now outdated. As I told my cousin Jeyne. We'd broke everyone to the yoke of the Crown's authority. We could begin retiring the countermeasures.

The report I had just received showed that, assuming the harvest remained consistent, the Westerlands, Vale and Stormlands were fast moving towards self-sufficiency. King's Landing was too populous for the Crownlands to feed alone, but from the looks of things, we'd now be able to cut the Reach out of the food chain. The Riverlands now produced enough surplus to feed us by themselves.

Which was a good thing, because we now had more mouths to feed. Dorne, the Iron Islands, the North and Beyond-the-Wall. All four would never become self-sufficient. Maybe in summer, for the North, but impossible in winter. Southern grain was required to feed them.

A task which the Reach was living up to. My eyes boggled at the figures stated. With harvests like these, the Reach could feed near all of Westeros by their lonesome.

"I appreciate the Reach's efforts." I finally said, putting down the scroll. "But at this rate, we're going to have too much food."

"What shall we do, your grace?" Lord Lyman asked. "I confess not much understanding in the nature of farming."

I sighed. Really, the Small Council was woefully inadequate. There was a reason why governments had things like the Ministry of Agriculture and Ministry of Defence. Seven men really weren't enough to truly run a country the size of Westeros. Something I'd have to rectify.

"We'll have to wait for more detailed reports." I spoke. "It will be a fool's errand to decree great changes without prior information."

"Most wise, your grace." Grand Maester Gerardys said. "May we move on to the next matter?"

I nodded, and he spoke.

"I have here a petition with the signatures of over a hundred Lords and Ladies from the realm, mostly the Reach, Westerlands and Riverlands." The maester reported, producing a sheet of parchment. "They ask that we defund the Night's Watch, as the Wildling threat has been alleviated."

I hummed contemplatively, looking over the parchment. The Night's Watch was funded by donations from the North and by crown-mandated taxes from the Iron Throne. The taxes weren't exactly harsh, more of a token tribute from every house in Westeros, but the Night's Watch had been dwindling or quite some time by now. Taxpayers didn't like having to pay for what they considered a glorified penal colony.

Doubly so, now that the Free Folk had proven themselves reasonable and restrained. Hun and her giants, in particular, made a great impression at Oldstones and the Mander. Many saw no need to continue funding the Watch now. Not when the friendly Free Folk—whom would be living closer to the Wall—provided a buffer between the Seven Kingdoms and the hostile Wildlings further north for free.

"Mysaria, your opinion?" I asked the Mistress of Whispers, sliding the document over to her.

"The North will not be pleased." Mysaria reported. "But the Free Folk will. They despise the Crows. We've quelled much of the anti-Wildling sentiment up North, but it is still there. They shall resist."

"Very well then. I'll sound them out first. See how much protest there is before committing." I decided. "In the interim period, I suggest we cease sending criminals to the Wall. I don't want rapists, thieves and murderers nearby the Free Folk."

I paused, reconsidering.

"Send them south instead." I ordered. "To the quarries on Bloodstone. Might as well start stone production."

"I shall arrange the matter." Lord Corlys agreed. "The extra manpower will be helpful."

The was a murmur of approval through the room, before Lord Lyonel Strong spoke up.

"The recent change in Hands has left many petitioners unanswered. When can we next schedule a session in court to hear them?" He asked, and I barely resisted slumping in my chair and groaning. Well bred women weren't supposed to do that.

The whole petitioner system was a flawed mess, in my opinion.

When someone wanted to petition the King, they'd come to the castle gates, where their name and concern was tallied by a majordomo and they were given a day to come in to plead their case. And it wasn't first-come-first-serve. Rank had its privileges. The higher ranked you were, the faster you could expect yourself to get an audience. There were also underhanded means to get oneself to the front of the queue. Bribery was common, as was blackmail and coercion.

All of these culminated in an inefficient system where all petitioners were heard personally by the king, with waiting times stretching up to days before being addressed, which could grow longer if either the King or the Hand were not present or decided to go on a hunting trip.

And really, I had better things to do than arbitrate farming disputes or stolen cattle accusations.

"My dearest Father." I tried, turning to look at him, but the man shook his head. Right. He typically left that job to Otto. Urgh, now I was seriously regretting accepting the job. And speaking of Otto…

"This just occured to me." I suddenly said. "But how is Lord Hightower taking his dismissal?"

There was a sudden ripple of surprise from the room, but Mysaria spoke up.

"He has been packing up the Tower of the Hand, with many complaints to his daughter about 'Meddling Dragonspawn'." My Mistress of Whispers reported, Viserys looking furious at that.

"I thought so." I muttered. "I don't blame the man. He is right to be angry."

I shook my head and turned to face my father.

"Father." I said. "How do you feel like going on a trip to Oldtown?"

"What brought this up, Nyra?" He asked confusedly.

"It's a way of ensuring that there are no hard feelings towards the Hightowers." I explained. "What better way than the King personally escorting his goodfather back to his home?"

"Yes, Vermithor certainly would take Otto back far quicker than a horse." My father agreed. "Very well, I shall do it."

"Oh!" I exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. "You might even take the opportunity to take Alicent and my siblings to see their family in Oldtown while you are at it. Let them see the world."

"A splendid idea, Nyra!" Viserys enthused. "It has been too long since I left King's Landing."

He nodded in approval, getting to his feet, Lord Commander Criston Cole following him.

"I'm going to tell Alicent! She'll love the idea." He happily said, leaving us all behind. As soon as the doors slammed shut, I turned to face the rest of the council.

"Now then, about those petitions…" I begun.

———

110 AC, Maegor's Holdfast,

"The children are too young to travel." Alicent protested. "Aegon is one thing, but Helaena and Aemond are too young! Helaena is barely one, and Aemond is only three months old!"

"If that is your issue, Alicent, then I can arrange for nannies, maesters and other childcarers to accompany you all." I suggested. "Rest assured that Helaena and Aemond will be well taken care of. The rigours of travel shall not strain them."

"My point exact, dear." Viserys enthused. "The children will be well taken care of."

"But there isn't enough space in the skycart for them all." Alicent pointed out. "And I am uncomfortable with taking them into the sky."

"Then what about a wheelhouse?" I asked. "We can have carriages and wagons prepared for the caretakers to ride alongside."

"But that will slow us all down!" Alicent snapped. "No, it is a fool's errand to leave the capital in the first place!"

"Alicent, leaving the capital for a fortnight wouldn't lead to the collapse of the Seven Kingdoms." I exasperatedly said. "I can run the Realm in Father's stead. I am Hand of the King."

No, but it will leave you in charge with no oversight. Alicent said with her eyes, glaring balefully at me.

"Agreed." Viserys declared. "Alicent, I appointed Rhaenyra because I trust her. She'll take good care of the Realm in my stead."

I placed my hand on his arm, calming him down before he worked himself up into a tirade.

"It's just a fortnight." He said. "We'll be back in no time."

———

110 AC, Red Keep

The very next day, it was the single most widespread piece of gossip that the King was visiting Oldtown, and many lordlings began declaring that they'd accompany the king. Enough of them decided to come that Viserys upgraded the journey to an impromptu Royal Procession, with dozens of lords in attendance. Which in turn meant that more supply wagons were required, which in turn meant more guards and servants, causing the size of the procession to snowball.

Departure had to be delayed in order to scrape together enough caretakers and supplies, as well as allowing time for all of the assorted lord and ladies to arrive with their own retinues. The First Legion's entire calvary contingent, a full one thousand knights, would accompany the procession, guarding them from any and all brigands.

In order not to unduly strain the meat supplies of the convoy, I'd persuaded Viserys to leave Vermithor behind, though the man hardly seemed to mind, enjoying the old-fashioned method of travel that was riding. He mentioned that he always wanted to do a Royal Progress, but never actually got around to doing it.

I watched from the battlements as the riders finally set off. Three thousand in all, the largest retinue of any Targaryen royal in history. To show off the wealth and splendour of the royal family. Servants, camp followers, knights, merchants, sellswords… a hundred and one other things that was required for such a progress.

"You are evil." Mysaria approvingly said from beside me. "Sending the King and Queen away for months?"

True. Such a grand procession meant that they'd be slow and lumbering. Their journey would slow to a crawl, even before we got involved.

"What are you talking about?" I japed. "I merely told the King to take a long-deserved vacation."

"Of course." Mysaria chuckled. "And that is why you've had me send those ravens."

"Indeed. Tourneys, games, feasts and hunts at every holdfast and castle in between here and Oldtown." I laughed. "Weeks of entertainment for the stressed and tired King."

"Stretching out the holiday of the hardworking King." Mysaria smirked. "Truly you are a devoted daughter and heir, to display such concern to your father, whom would never otherwise rest an hour."

The two of us cackled at that.

"Well then, now that that buffoon and harpy are out of the way, time to actually get to work." I declared, striding back indoors.