Chapter 4

When we read about Lords holding court in books, it usually looked downright easy. Two parties approached, one made an accusation, the other defended lamely and then the Lord would with utter confidence declare his judgement and appear to be the paragon of justice and morality. To my immense disappointment, nothing could have been further from the truth.

In actuality, most parties appeared to be in the right, the laws were so archaic that they were not actually codified anywhere. Different regions had different customary laws that had been practised for centuries that varied from fief to fief and town to town. As I sat in the Hall of my Castle and held court, listening to petitions and resolving disputes, each more complex than the last, I came upon the realisation that I knew very little about my new smallfolk.

Sure, I had been one of them a little more than six moons ago, when I was just a blacksmith's apprentice, but that was in the Crust Plains. The laws and customs of the Harelands were vastly different. The problems faced by the smallfolk here, while similar in nature across all regions, required vastly different solutions.

Resolving the issues as effectively as possible resulted in me relying heavily on the sage advice of Ser Goren and Petr, who were natives of the Harelands. The idea that despite being their Lord, I knew very little of my people, left me deeply disconcerted.

It was at this point that inspiration struck me. Jakob, The sage, the wise, although he was many years away from being called those monikers, was most well known for his progresses, where he would travel the lands and meet with his vassals. Perhaps, I could engage in something similar.

Upon consulting Arthur and Petr, they agreed that my idea to tour my fief, meet my people and familiarise myself with the various town chiefs, Knights and officials who kept my lands in order, would be rather beneficial. A route was quickly plotted, I would travel south to Southwood and then East to the yet unnamed fishing village before taking an elliptical route through my Northern farmlands to reach Duneon's Valley which would serve as my last stop before I returned to Valerin.

As I prepared for my Jakob-esque progress across my lands, much work was to be done to ensure that my various projects at Valerin did not stagnate in my absence.

Arthur the old Butler, and Petr, my Steward would remain in Valerin and manage my affairs in my absence while Ser Goren would accompany me along with a retinue of 20 Men at Arms and a few members of my household. I carried a substantial sum of coin with myself to distribute and donate along the way, secured tightly in a lockbox. I'd come to realize that distributing some of my wealth amongst the smallfolk cost me very little and yet built immense goodwill and loyalty.

Arthur was instructed to oversee the implementation of my hygiene edicts, soap development and the operation of the distillery. The workers at the distillery were given detailed instructions on how to proceed although with the first batch already maturing in my cellars, there was not much to do aside from refining and repeating the process. As far as the soap production went, we had produced a decent prototype which had proven to be fairly effective but one that I was still dissatisfied with. I had given pointers and instructions on how to further refine the process and was eagerly awaiting the results once I returned from my progress.

Petr and Ser Alaric had already begun investigating the tax collectors as per my instructions and were making slow but steady progress. Alaric had proven himself invaluable thus far. As a native of Valerin, he had roots in the region which allowed him to investigate and extract information from a plethora of sources. He claimed that his family had suffered greatly due to the exploitation of unscrupulous tax collectors in his youth and was thus working passionately to see the system reformed. He was resourceful, effective and a good commander of men and I was considering promoting him to the position of Head of the Valerin Town Guard once I returned.

As I sat in my solar the morning of our departure, completing the last bits of paperwork following which I would make my way to the courtyard where the rest of my retinue was gathered. I sighed as I placed my seal on the last document and handed it over to Petr. The steward in question would be extremely busy over the next couple of moons as the lion's share of my responsibilities had been assigned to him. In addition to the investigation into the tax collectors and his regular duties running my household, he would also be responsible for holding court in my stead among many other minor tasks.

As I walked down the staircase and entered the courtyard the entirety of my household was gathered to bid me farewell. I nodded at Ser Alaric and the old Butler as I mounted my horse and we proceeded to ride out the gates of my keep.

As I approached Southwood, the lumber town south of my capital Valerin. I found that I liked the appearance of the settlement. With such close proximity to the main woodland found within my fief, all the buildings were built from large oak logs and planks which reminded me of Austrian ski chalets I had seen during my travels in my previous life.

Southwood was an attractive place and was home to lumber mills which accounted for most of my lumber exports. It's proximity to Valerin meant it only took a day to reach it with only one stop at a small unnamed village on the way, though I noticed on the way that the road between the two was poorly made. Something I would like to remedy as soon as possible.

The town was the smallest of the main settlements in my lands, bearing only eight hundred people, though that number was sure to grow through immigration. The main occupation of its inhabitants was related to the lumber trade, with the smallfolk primarily engaged in the activities of felling trees, transporting logs and finally converting them into lumber at various mills that dotted the little town.

Some engaged in production of charcoal which was, although an expensive product, in very high demand in the Harelands. I never truly released the sheer utility of charcoal in Headens. It was used for smelting and smithing as a metallurgical fuel which made it invaluable to blacksmiths. It also found great use in cooking and for creating black pigment. Hunters were also rather common in the region and it was here that I had my first run in with the famed longbowmen of the Harelands.

The town had no wall, so as I followed the road into the settlement I could see the hustle and bustle of the town. I could hear the faint sound of saws working on trees in the distance and noticed that puddles in the road had been filled in with saw dust. Quite a good idea really. Due to the close proximity of Southwood to my Keep, I had been informed that my Hygiene and Sanitation Edicts had been implemented in the town, but I had not expected such a stellar implementation. The town was clean, hygienic and well cared for. It appeared that the Mayor of Southwood was an able administrator.

As I reached the main square I dismounted and looked around. I had expected the Mayor of the town to be prepared to greet me. An apologetic servant appeared to take the reins of my horse, "I'm very sorry, my Lord. The Mayor was not expecting you so soon, I believe he is currently having lunch."

I nodded, as the servant led us through the town, I carefully observed my surroundings as we travelled. The town, while not planned per se, stretched across a large area and thus boasted spacious housing to its residents. While there was some obvious wealth disparity, with some houses being extremely well built and reflecting obvious wealth, while some were barely a little larger than huts. Upon questioning the servant escorting me, he explained that the larger houses primarily belonged to the lumber and charcoal merchants who owned the mills and charcoal pits and engaged in their trade, while the smaller houses belonged to the labourers and lumberjacks who worked for them. Eventually, I could see the large house which served as the town mayor's residence and headed in that direction.

As I stepped through the entrance to the house, the first thing I noticed was the smell of roast beef. Salivating slightly I followed the smell through to a large living area where a dining table was loaded with various foods. At the far end of the polished oak table was the Mayor.

The Mayor of Southwood was a portly looking man that I estimated to be in his mid forties. I cleared my throat and his eyes shot up from his feast, widening as he all but swallowed his cut of beef whole, choking and coughing multiple times before his airways cleared.

I couldn't help but chuckle at the display, sometimes being intimidating was amusing. The Mayor's name was Chapman. Based on my previous observations and Arthur's descriptions, whilst he was a gluttonous man he was also quite astute and proved to be a mostly benevolent influence over Southwood. If my memory serves well, the future mayor of Southwood, Manderly, was not too dissimilar in this manner.

Chapman stood with haste and made to apologise, "I'm so very sorry my lord, I had not expected you to arrive so soon."

I raised an eyebrow, unsure how he had managed to fuck it up. I had dispatched a raven before I left Valerin and he knew the distance and travel time. I lifted my arm in dismissal and moved towards the table, pulling back the tall backed oak chair at the other end of the table before sitting down.

I grabbed a plate and began to pile on some food from the table, Chapman's eyes widening but no protest was forthcoming, "It is not a problem. I was hoping we could discuss the state of industry here, perhaps you could also arrange a tour of the lumber camps for me."

That said, I took a bite out of a thick and juicy slice of steak, "Of course, my lord. I'm afraid I don't have any reports on hand, I will send for a servant to pick them up from my solar." He stood with one last longing look at the plates of meat before shuffling off with a huff.

When the door closed, I leaned back in the comfortable chair and laughed loudly, before being interrupted by a knock on the door. I stood up and went to open it, the stained oak moving aside to reveal the face of a rather attractive girl, perhaps about seventeen with brown hair and blue eyes. She opened and closed her mouth at seeing me before wordlessly passing me the Headen equivalent of a manilla file. Presumably containing the reports Chapman had gone to send for.

I gave her the most charming grin I could and asked, "Any idea where Chapman has got off to? I expected him here to deliver these reports."

She blushed, "He asked me to bring you these from his office, and then made his way to the kitchens I believe. The Mayor usually has lunch about this time."

Later that evening as I supped with Mayor Chapman, I questioned him regarding the reports he had sent me a few hours ago. While the lumber production was excellent and the numbers looked great, I did have one concern in particular, "I must say Chapman, I am rather concerned here looking at the numbers of charcoal production and export."

"My Lord, we have only recently begun production of charcoal since I have taken over as Mayor. If I may be frank, it is a long and arduous process and with the frequent rains and humid conditions it is very difficult to create the level of heat necessary to produce charcoal. If we could produce more charcoal, I would do so gladly, but unfortunately lumber is more convenient as while it may not be as profitable, it consumes less time and produces greater volumes." The portly mayor explained.

Pondering his words I realised that while the man had a point, he did not have the benefits of being a reincarnate from the modern world. Subtly, I tried to nudge him in the right direction, "Well if rain and humidity are the major issues, why not make them non factors?"

"And exactly how would you propose we go about doing so my Lord?" He asked with a curious and slightly sceptical expression on his pudgy face.

"Well we could create an enclosed structure made of logs and packed externally with earth, grass and moss to render it airtight. Create a fire shaft of sorts made of brushwood. If we store the wood within the structure and ignite it from outside, it should allow the fire to burn hot very quickly and fierce enough to begin the blackening process. If we build large enough structures we should be able to produce substantial amounts of charcoal in a single structure." I sat back and enjoyed the awestruck look on his face as he realised the potential of my idea.

In my previous life I had always hated being responsible for cleaning out the barbecue pit after Sunday lunch in our backyard. Equally frustrating had been listening to my grandfather drone on about how they used to produce charcoal using an old kiln in the village where he was raised. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined that this knowledge would not just be useful, but invaluable to me someday.

Hook. Line and Sinker.

After my rather productive visit to Southwood, we rode through the countryside at a steady pace, stopping daily at villages and other settlements along the route. I would spend time at each settlement listening to the pleas and petitions of the smallfolk while at the same time resolving a plethora of disputes. I would meet with village elders, break bread with farmers and distribute coin generously to orphans, widows and others who were similarly impoverished. At one village I even accepted a couple of longbowmen into my service. A sennight after leaving Southwood, I felt a shift in the air as humidity increased and the salty smell of the ocean wafted through my nose.

I stood atop a hill overlooking the said village. The area was a reasonably well sheltered, natural harbour. Small fishing boats scoured the bay for fish and oysters. I could practically smell them from where I stood. Unlike Valerin, this village was just houses and a larger building, presumably a storehouse, with no palisade to protect it. An issue that would likely need addressing to counter any ambitious lords in the future.

A natural harbour located on my lands was a great boon. Though with the unfavourable weather notorious of Jonas Bay I was somewhat apprehensive to begin any kind of seafaring developments. So this project would be the work of the future. Looking over the bay area I could envision a pier for docking small ships and perhaps some wave breakers to shield them during storms. It was something to keep in mind.

In my previous life, I was not a scholar of naval history and would undoubtedly be incapable of producing better ships than the shipwrights of Headens and Ortlands. The village was well located however and would be a good place to facilitate some small amount of trade between Valerin and the Isle of the Blue

The ever-present Ser Goren stood tall behind me. His constant presence had required a large amount of acclimation. The man was rather likeable despite his harsh words in the training yard. Despite the obvious truth of his loyalty belonging to Harestead, I valued his presence. He was a deadly fighter and, unlike the Butler, rarely questioned me. Even on my ludicrous ideas.

I rode through the settlement trailed by my personal guard. The coastal town was poor, mostly built of wooden huts accompanied by the sound of screeching seagulls. A small wooden dock was built on the coast which connected to several small fishing vessels and a couple of larger trade vessels which I surmised were for the little trade that we had with the Isle of the Blue. Even so, the dock was in a complete state of disrepair and a safety hazard to the people that used it.

Valerin was becoming vastly more prosperous under my administration, but the same could not yet be said of the other settlements in my fief. The roads here were muddied and puddles dotted the roadside. The smell of fish and rotten waste permeated the air in a suffocating miasma. There was much work here left to be done.

We reached the market square a few minutes later to hear the tail end of what appeared to be a Priest's sermon. As the crowd dispersed, I dismounted my steed and walked over to the man.

The man had not noticed my presence and was startled as I spoke, "A strange thing for sermons to be given in the open air is it not?"

The priest seemed to stutter searching for words, "I have taken to giving my sermons in the market square of late. The condition of the Temple is unfortunately not what it once was."

I raised an eyebrow at that, how bad could it possibly be? "What happened to the Temple?"

"It is just around the corner if you would like a visit, though I doubt you will be satisfied with its image." The aged man had an air of melancholy around him.

Nodding in the affirmative I replied, "I think I have time."

He gestured to the right and I followed. My guards, tagging along at a distance. As we walked down the road, I cast my gaze out to observe the area. While the infrastructure and sanitation of the town left much to be desired, I observed that the people did not appear to be as impoverished as expected but still not as well as I'd hoped. While the town had a thriving economy based on sea trade with Rosecourt and its fisheries, it became readily important that the town had been utterly neglected by the previous castellan. Either no funds had been set aside for the maintenance and development of infrastructure here or the said money had been misappropriated by someone. Either way, things were going to change.

As we rounded the corner, my gaze fell upon the Temple of the fishing town. It appeared in truth to be more of a barn converted to worship. The wooden walls appeared half rotting, a wooden board with the star which symbolized the God of this world painted on it hung about the doors. Through them, I could see that it did not even possess pews as most Temples did.

I couldn't hide my grimace at the state of what was supposed to be a holy building and a pillar of the community.

The Priest looked sad as he spoke, "Unfortunately these lands have never been very prosperous. Stone is expensive to work with and wood is prone to rot, and so what we have has fallen into disrepair. Though we must all make do with what our God have given us."

The Priests of Headens performed an important service to communities. Providing not only weekly sermons and a social gathering place but also food for the poor. For the town to be missing such an important institution would be somewhat untenable for the populace. Arthur and Petr would not be happy but the situation needed to be remedied.

Sighing, I replied, "Priest, I will see what I can do. Such an important place being in this condition is a dreadful thing."

He gave a small smile, "Donations from the God's followers are always welcome, though I fear it would need to be a great amount to cover the costs of renovation."

I stared at him blankly, did he not realise who I was? "I am Aerys Valerin, it is my responsibility to take care of those under my rule. The cost of a new Temple will be covered by me."

The Priest's eyes widened in shock before a smile beamed, "Lord Valerin? I-I thank you. Rest assured you shall remain in my prayers."

I then kneeled and made a show of praying to the God which was followed by the Priest blessing and praising me in front of the large crowd that had gathered. Rising from my knees, I exited the Temple while taking out my coin purse to distribute some coin among the gathered crowd. I turned towards the Priest, who I gathered was named Priest Thomas and said, "If you could escort me to the Mayor I would be eternally grateful, Priest Thomas."

The overjoyed Priest proceeded to cheerfully lead me through the town to a large wooden hut off the coast while proudly proclaiming my greatness and generosity to the other townsfolk. Ser Goren never strayed more than a few steps from me as his eyes darted through the crowd trying to identify any threats to my person. Upon reaching the hut, I was invited in by a gaunt old man with a heavy white beard named Scot who was introduced to me as the Mayor.

As I sat down in the modest hut, his wife Gisela, an equally old grey haired woman with tan skin and a slight hunch greeted me with a near toothless smile and offered me a mug of ale. I politely declined and turned towards the elderly mayor as he said, "I have lived here in this town for five and sixty years my Lord, thirty of which I've been the Mayor. Long enough to remember a time when the previous Lord ruled and this town was a thriving port. When I heard that the young Lord had visited the Priest and promised to rebuild it, after many years my heart felt young again. Tell me my Lord, are you here to finally help us?"

Seeing a man so old, practically pleading before me, with his eyes full of hope, my heart nearly broke. I'd been Lord of these lands for nearly a year. I'd collected taxes from these people which had been used to fund my whisky and soap projects. And yet in nearly a year I had given back next to nothing to the people outside of Valerin. So wrapped up was I in my own little slice of life, that the plight of the smallfolk in such settlements completely slipped my mind.

Gathering my resolve, I looked up at the old man, "My good ser, you have served this town with distinction for the past thirty years while you and the townsfolk have suffered unjustly under the yolk of exploitative tax collectors and neglectful overlords. I swear to you that this shall change. I shall not only rebuild the Temple, but also have funds set aside every year for the maintenance and development of this town. You shall have a sturdy dock, good roads and better living conditions. We will rebuild this town to its earlier glory and beyond. This I swear to you on my name and that of House Valerin."

I spent the next three days in the company of Mayor Scot in his little town. Over the course of those three days we had visited every nook and corner of the town as my scribe took detailed notes of every piece of infrastructure that would need repair. Plans were drawn up for repair and rebuilding and costs were estimated. Upon returning to Valerin, I would be passing on these plans to Petr and instructing him to set aside funds each year for the same.

I had held court on the second day of my visit and heard petitioners and resolved disputes. A lot of work was yet to be done, but we were off to a good start. While the costs were high and would set back some of my other planned projects, I had realised that the path I was taking was necessary and would yield great benefits in a few years.

On the third day, having already surveyed the small village on the coast of the infamous Jonas Bay, gaining such notoriety and name from the man whose very presence caused the wreckage of little more than 50 vassals. I decided to give a small trade port a try. All the greatest cities in my previous world and this one have a port. It was the cheapest and most efficient way to move freight long distances after all.

The experienced ship captain I had managed to find gazed over the harbour, "I can see what you intend, my Lord. Overall I think it's a good design, the harbour here is sheltered by the surrounding landscape."

I nodded at the man. I had drawn a sketch of the overall design for the small docks that would be put in place to replace the dilapidated ones currently in use. I was tentative to invest too much gold and manpower in the project as storms were commonplace across the coast. Without the necessary technology to prevent great waves from smashing any fleet, I built into driftwood. It seemed a bad idea to hedge my bets on it.

I replied to the grizzled man who served as the harbourmaster of this little town, "If you are in agreement with the design, I will have the construction started within a moon's turn."

I had even planned for the building of a pier which would reduce the need for loading and unloading to be done over rowboats, increasing productivity and reducing the necessary resources required. Being a petty Lord with limited resources encouraged one to become a good resource manager. Use too many people in one place and productivity would be completely eliminated in another.

I was not aware of any other cities using piers in this world. Though as I spent more time in Headens and came up with more and more ideas I realised that was more likely to be my lack of complete information rather than a lack of existence.

"Well, you will need to source some good stone also, and quite a quantity of it." The captain said. I raised an eyebrow inquiringly. I received a stare that seemed to call me stupid, "Well, we will need to sink it to create wave breakers. Else the next storm that comes through will smash any ships to pieces."

I hissed through my teeth. That seemed so simple in hindsight, where was I going to get the stone? I made a mental note to enquire with Arthur when I returned to Valerin. "Of course, I will find a source for it. I'll leave you to do your planning." The man gave a nod and walked off.

One of my worries over owning a port was the increased attention I would garner. It was one thing to be a competent Lord with good ideas. Another entirely to be a competent Lord with the ability to raise a fleet and trade outside of Westeros. The idea of trading with the Cities of Ortlands made me uncomfortable for a number of reasons. Mostly political in nature.

I remember from reading the books that merchants are scorned by the majority of Lords. 'Honour' demanding a lord remains self-sufficient in all things and rarely import or export, likely one of the reasons for technological stagnation. For me to be a first-generation lord and also mercantile, I expect I am not favoured among the nobility of the Harelands. For me to begin engaging in trade further afield, Ortlands specifically, would be bad. People of Headen looked at those of Ortlands as savages, despite the opposite being closer to the truth. My reputation would take a nosedive I was not sure I could recover from.

As I rode out through the lush green pasture land that covered a significant portion of my Northern holdings, I could not help but be reminded of the lush green plains of Southern France that I had visited as a child. These lands had a quaint beauty to them.

Upon leaving the coast, we had set out on an elliptical route through the northern farmlands with the objective of visiting the major settlements in this region which accounted for the vast majority of my fief's agricultural output. Along the way we visited several large farming villages. While none of the settlements were particularly large or populous with the largest possessing no more than four hundred residents, there were dozens of such settlements in the region.

Our current destination was the Keep of the Knightly House of Anselm. One of my few landed Knights, Ser Cassian Anselm was most definitely the most powerful of them all. His lands included a dozen or so villages and all in all he held command over a thousand odd souls. Visiting him had been one of the top priorities of my progress.

As I made my way towards his small wooden Keep, I could see his lands were prosperous and bountiful. The reports presented to me by Petr had indicated that his taxes to me had always been fairly even with little variance over the years. Ser Goren had informed me that Ser Cassian was a native of the region and had been among the levies called upon during the Second Thornish War.

The son of a humble potter, he had gone on to serve with distinction and had been knighted for his service and bravery by Lord Barnabas Wysten, the predecessor lord Robert, himself and granted the lands that he currently held. In times of war, alongside Ser Goren he would be one of my primary field commanders due to his experience and military prowess. He was also the unofficial Warden of the Northern Farmlands as he and his cavalry unit of twenty men would patrol these lands and borders to keep banditry at bay. Considering my observations of the lands thus far, he seemed to be doing a good job.

As I rode up to the gates of his keep I saw a man around Ser Goren's age, with messy black hair and a full beard, take the knee as I approached. As I dismounted, a servant approached and took my horse while the man in question introduced himself, "Be welcome my Lord to my humble Keep. I am Ser Cassian Anselm and it is my honour to host you." As he spoke, he pointed to the young boy, perhaps 9 years old, standing to his left, "This is my son and heir, Gavin."

As we got the customary greetings and exchange of bread and salt out of the way, I saw that Ser Goren and Ser Cassian greeted each other rather warmly and it was clear that the two had been well acquainted in the past. The seed of an idea that could be beneficial to all concerned took root in my mind.

The latter proved to be an excellent host. He regaled us with stories of the war and being knighted by the legendary Barnabas Wysten over supper as the rest of the table including myself listened with rapt attention. After dinner, we retired to his solar, where he provided me with detailed reports of his patrols in the region as well as the agricultural produce in his lands.

We spent the next couple of days touring his lands as well as neighbouring villages as we visited farms and villages nearby and interacted with the smallfolk residing there. Ser Goren and I even joined Ser Cassian and his men on one of their patrols and I could see that they were well organized and well trained. As Ser Cassian informed me, due to the vastness of these lands, there was always a danger of bandits raiding the smaller farms and settlements for grain and cattle. His patrols were spread out thin across the region but were effective at their jobs. I asked him to expand his patrols further and promised him a small deduction in tax to compensate the same

Young Gavin accompanied us and upon observing him, I saw that the lad was even at his young age, a rather skilled horseman. I had spoken to him several times over the past couple of days and the lad's potential was being wasted in a remote keep in the northern hinterlands. The boy was intelligent, quick on his feet and earnest. While returning from the patrol, after quiet discussions with Ser Goren, I presented the idea that I had been mulling over the last couple of days to Ser Cassian.

"Ser Cassian, I must say that your son seems to take after you. He seems like a diligent lad with lots of potential."

"Aye milord." Replied he, "He's a good lad, works hard and has a good head on his shoulders. I try to provide him and his sisters the education and care that was denied to me. Mark me words milord. He will be an excellent knight one day. Far surpassing his father."

"On that I actually have a proposal for you, good Ser. Let Cassian return to Valerin with me. I have spoken to Ser Goren and he has agreed to take on Gavin as his squire. I shall foster him at Valerin and he shall receive the best education possible from my Butler. It would do him good to see the world outside your lands. He would accompany me as I journey to visit other Lords and perhaps if the situation permits he could even compete in a tourney or two and make a name for himself."

It was visible to me that he was astonished at my offer, "Milord, I am not worthy of such an honour."

"Nonsense, good Ser. Your service and honour are beyond question. Tis the least I can do for my most leal and diligent vassal."

"Very well Milord. How could I ever deny such a gracious offer. I shall have him prepared to leave with you tomorrow. House Anselm shall always be in your debt."

He said as he called the boy in question over to inform him of the newest developments.

I nudged my horse into a brief canter as I rode down the dirt track to catch up with Ser Goren. With one go I had secured the loyalty of my most powerful vassal as well as ensured that his son would grow into an excellent asset to my House with me personally overseeing his development.

One down, a few thousand more to go.

* * *

I removed the blanket from my face and coughed brutally before spitting on the floor near the entrance and wiping my mouth.

It was easy to see why black-lung had become so prolific during the industrial revolution. This mine didn't even mine coal and I was coughing up after a few minutes of breathing in the rock dust. Unfortunately, there was very little I could do about it.

I looked over at Milo, a young man by technicality but still a boy really, who had been showing me through the iron mine in the valley named after my father. He smiled at me, "You get used to the dust after a while."

I coughed weakly once more, "I should hope so, wouldn't do to spend the whole day coughing!"

The remark received earnest chuckle, "Aye, that would make it hard to swing a pickaxe."

Mining was dangerous work, there were many ways it could kill you, whether from flooding or a collapse. I couldn't help but feel sad at the boy's lot in life. The simple fact was, there was so much that I just didn't know how to fix. There were a thousand and one things that could or should be done but most of them required in-depth knowledge that I just didn't possess. Had I driven cars? Yes. Did I know how they worked well enough to recreate them? Of course not.

I would have to content myself with the fact that merely by increasing prosperity I would be saving the people under my rule much pain. Merely by making more facilities such as proper sewers available to them I would greatly improve their situations.

I said my farewell to Milo and watched him duck back down into the mine. His threadbare tunic dyed black with rock dust. As I walked out the entrance of the mine, I sat down on a nearby log and took a deep sip from my waterskin.

I had arrived at Duneon's Valley a couple of days ago. Calling it a town, I realised would not be very accurate. It was a loose collection of mining communities that called the region home. There was a town which served as the hub of commerce in the region, where the miners brought the fruits of their labour to sell, but it did not host the entire estimated population of fifteen hundred souls.

Furnaces where the ore was smelted, dotted the entire town. The metal produced here was transported to Valerin, where the blacksmiths would work the metal into tools, equipment and weapons before it was exported to Harestead and Destrier Hall who were the primary trade partners for such exports.

While a substantial portion of the population did stay within the town proper, most of the population was settled in minings camps in the valley where they would sometimes spend several moons at a time, mining the valley, only to return to buy essentials and sell iron and copper ore.

Occasionally, during intense storms or during particularly cold winter nights they would take shelter in the town proper in shoddily made shelters. I had already drawn up plans for the shelters to be reconstructed with proper materials capable of comfortably accommodating the smallfolk and set aside funds for its building and upkeep to be administered by the town Mayor.

As this was the last leg of my journey, I was eagerly looking forward to returning to Valerin to check the progress of my various projects. As I could receive no ravens, communication had been sparse, with just a couple of couriers arriving from Valerin to furnish me with the occasional report from Arthur and Petr.

I took a last sip from my waterskin and stood and headed towards my horse. I'd need a good night's sleep as I had an arduous day of riding through the valley before I reached Valerin.

"No rest for the wicked" as they would say.

As I entered my solar after having spent the morning training in the yard with Ser Goren and his new squire, Baldwin, I waved Petr and Arthur in as they stood outside waiting to speak with me.

I had arrived in Valerin barely a sennight past and was already swamped in work. In the near two moons that I had been absent, Petr and Arthur had done an excellent job in keeping my affairs in order.

"The results of the Valerin Census have been tallied and readied my Lord." Said Arthur as I bade him and Petr to be seated. "The complete report is being compiled by Petr and will be ready for your perusal in a few days but we thought it prudent to share the most pertinent points with you."

"Well my Lord, the results of the Census are most promising." Said he as I waved at him to continue sharing his findings, "The total population sworn to House Valerin stands at around eight and fifty thousand people as of today. These numbers are growing steadily as smallfolk are migrating here in droves as there is plenty of farmland and industry is growing at a tremendous pace. While most of the population is engaged in agriculture and related activities in rural areas, a substantial portion of the population is also engaged in the mining, smithing, lumber and leather making."

He took a breath and moved on to the next page in his notes, "Among crops the most significant yield is that of wheat, barley, rye, tomatoes, peppers and pumpkins while smaller pockets near the coast are also producing small amounts of cotton and jute. During the census, we also discovered several pockets of land along the northern coasts of your lands that would be well suited to the growth of cotton."

It was at this point that Petr interrupted the old Butler, "One of our costliest imports is cotton right alongside ale. While your projects might already be addressing the latter issue, my Lord, if we are able to increase our cotton production by farming these lands we would be able to severely reduce our reliance on the Blanetts of Copperbay."

"Make provisions for these lands to be farmed Petr, issue an edict in my name proclaiming that those who travel north to tend to these lands and produce cotton, will be charged lower taxes for the next five years," I responded immediately seizing the opportunity. I had noted the sheer amount of expenditure we incurred importing cloth from the Blanetts. The benefits of improving our production internally were obvious and would yield results as early as next year.

"Very well my Lord." Agreed Arthur as he noted down my instructions. He continued, "Furthermore my Lord, while prospecting the western mountains our men stumbled upon a vein of iron. Upon further survey, it appears to be far richer and deeper than Duneon Valley. I have taken the liberty of dispatching a few men to further inspect the area for other minerals. It is my recommendation, my Lord, that experienced miners from Duneon's Valley be dispatched to the region to begin mining this new vein."

I could barely keep the look of glee off my face as I heard the report. Duneon Valley's production of iron was rather low. The mine produced far more copper than iron which until recently had very little utility. A new iron vein would be a great boon and provide a huge boost to my growing smithing industry. Already Valerin exported a small number of tools and weapons every year to Harestead and Destrier Hall. With good quality iron being mined from the new vein, our production could increase substantially and we could expand trade to Rosecout, Copperbay and Potter's Cottage as well.

"Furthermore my Lord, the map you had commissioned alongside the census is also ready." He said as he unfurled a particularly large scroll. I had commissioned a map of my lands to be made to be hung in my solar to give me a better understanding of my lands. I looked down at it as Petr carefully laid the map on my table.

"Anything else Petr?" I said turning to my Steward. He had truly proven himself to be an asset to my Household. He had taken over much of the workload of the Census with Arthur having deemed it a fallacy and a waste of his time. Something I am sure stung him deeply today, "Nothing significant enough to bother you with as of yet my Lord. I shall prepare a detailed report and present it to you within a sennight my Lord."

Both he and Arthur proceeded to bow and exited my Solar. Deeply satisfied, I turned towards my desk to deal with the ever-growing stack of paperwork.