9

Chapter Nine

Mid 50 AC

As I sat in my temporary office in Eastwood, I contemplated the letters on my desk that had arrived from White Harbour and Gulltoown the sennight past. With the renovation of my Keep now being fully underway, with much work being done on the original tower, I had been forced to temporarily move my household to one of the larger residential houses that had been built in the town.

The past few moons had been busy. Many letters had been exchanged with the Graftons and Manderlys as we discussed the terms of my proposal. They had both received the four barrels each that I had dispatched a few moons ago and had been mightily impressed by the quality of Eastwood Whisky. The terms of my proposal as laid out had been simple but again the results had surprised me very much so.

It had been my belief that whisky would sell like hotcakes in the North especially. A drink with a warm burn would ideally be very much in demand in colder climates. However, as Lord Manderly stated, the North was a relatively poor region. While the Lords of the North would undoubtedly love to purchase whisky, the price tag that I had attached would not be palatable to most Lords.

In the North, winter was harsh, and all coin was inevitably saved to buy grain to keep the smallfolk fed. While some Lords would still purchase whisky, it would not be in great quantities. whatsFurthermore, transporting the whisky from White Harbour to the Lords of the North would be nigh on impossible. The North was almost as large as the rest of the Kingdoms combined. Even transporting whisky from White Harbour to the Hornwoods, who were the closest Lords to White Harbour, would be a distant equivalent to Eastwood from Grandview.

The Lord of White Harbour did state that if I lowered the price to two gold dragons a barrel, he might be able to discuss an agreement, and even then the volumes were likely too low to justify such a substantial discount. Nonetheless, Lord Manderly had stated that he had enjoyed the Eastwood Whisky and placed an order for forty barrels to be dispatched to him via a trading company based out of White Harbour that regularly docked at Tarth.

While the North had been a disappointment, the correspondence with the Graftons had been much more fruitful. Lord Grafton had written back to me almost immediately stating that he believed that Eastwood Whisky had much potential to be sold in the Vale and over the course of the past few moons we had finally achieved an understanding.

The Graftons of Gulltown would serve as distributors of Eastwood Whisky and would purchase the Whisky from me for four gold dragons a barrel as long as the transportation cost to Gulltown would be my responsibility. If I were unable to reach an understanding with Lord Tarth, they would be amenable to taking on the cost and burden of transport, in which case the price would be reduced. Regardless they had represented that they wished to purchase a hundred barrels at the said rates to begin and were hopeful that within a year, we would be selling as many as a thousand barrels a year in the Vale. While it was a number that, while a little ambitious, in my opinion, could very well be possible with the backing of a house as old and influential as the Graftons.

While it stung that I would be unable to sell whisky in the North as I'd hoped, the positive response from the Graftons had elevated my mood. Already Bryan had been dispatched to Gulltown via Tarth with the said hundred barrels and I was hopeful that he would be well received by the Graftons. Being known for their mercantile nature, I hoped that they would not look down their nose at him for being lowborn. Unfortunately I had no other viable alternatives to represent me in the Whisky trade.

I sighed as I stood up and exited my solar. With the door to trade in the Vale now open, the alliance with the Tarths was more important than ever. Lord Tarth had responded to my letter a couple of moons ago inviting me to visit Tarth. Unfortunately, the Harvest season, and the progression of my crop rotation policy had kept me busy till now. I had informed the Evenstar that I would visit Tarth in a moon's turn and the preparations for the visit were well underway.

I would depart from Eastwood to Stormtower, as the fishing town on the coast was now being called and inaugurate the opening of the new Sept from which the town derived its name. I liked the new name. It definitely had the 'oomph' factor that Eastwood lacked. Mayor Owen and Septon Luke had assured me that construction of the Sept would be completed by the time I arrived and to be honest, I was really looking forward to seeing the completed Sept that I had had a hand in designing.

I had been in this world for seven years now, and this tower would be my first step towards leaving behind a legacy. Eventually other Lords would crack the method of making whisky and soap. Jaehaerys would build the Kingsroad and my road network would not even be a footnote in history in comparison to that. But this Sept would last. As one of the largest Septs in the Stormlands, and a unique one at that, it would hopefully light the way of sailors in Shipbreaker Bay for generations to come and hopefully save countless ships. As far as a legacy went, I would be satisfied with that.

I was not looking forward to the trip to Tarth. While I was eager to establish my trade agreement, the very idea of marrying and bedding a girl of sixteen made my stomach churn. Having been twenty three when I was transported to Westeros, I was now mentally thirty years old. Marrying a girl half my age was a terrible blow to my modern sensibilities. Unfortunately, the need for a strategic alliance with the Tarths and siring an heir far outweighed my moral dilemmas.

As I walked out of my temporary residence, a couple of guardsmen fell into step behind me. Living in Eastwood had been a revelation for me. Sure, I had visited the town in the past, but there was a stark difference between a Lord's visit and actually living among the smallfolk. While I was informed that the living conditions of the smallfolk had improved dramatically since my elevation to the Lordship of Eastwood, it was nonetheless still very distressing.

It had become clear to me that while Ser Jarett was doing an admirable job as Head of the Town Guard, corruption was still prevalent. The Health and Sanitation Edicts that I had implemented were only being followed to varying extents as most smallfolk could not afford the time, effort and coin to follow the edicts properly. Many still lived in squalor and poverty.

The Eastwood Municipal Authority that I had created could only do so much with their limited budget and manpower. I had quietly ordered their budget increased to enable them to better perform their functions. But throwing gold at the problem would not solve it. Better protocols and procedures were needed to make their tasks more efficient. I needed well educated and skilled men to actually perform these tasks. Men that were in short supply. I had been so engrossed in increasing my wealth and power, believing that my gain would eventually also benefit the smallfolk that I had failed to realise that I was treading the path of trickle down economics, a system that was doomed to fail unless actual work was put in place at the the grass root level.

Upon consulting Warren, we had agreed that greater oversight would be needed in order to improve the conditions in Eastwood than just what could be provided by myself, Warren and Maester Armon. Unfortunately, not just anybody could be elevated to such positions unless they were trustworthy, reliable and competent. For now, I would ask Ser Morden to aid Ser Jarett with the Town Guard, he had aided in training the men initially and would be responsible for rooting out corruption and incompetence. Maester Armon on the other hand would be tasked with ensuring compliance of the sanitation and health edicts.

As I walked through my town, I could not help but be confronted by the thought that in the pursuit of my ambitions, I had neglected to see to the well being of the people closest to my seat, when just a few years ago, I had been one of them.

As I heard petitioners in my court, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the people living in my land. The lord serving as Judge, Jury and Executioner for the people was a terribly unfair system and one I had hoped to rectify.

Nearly sixty thousand people called my lands home. The very idea, that a single individual could provide justice for every single dispute in such lands, for such a large population was naive at best and moronic at worst. This meant large numbers of cases merely went unheard, though as it turned out, villages were actually better off than larger settlements, purely because where the lord was not in residence village councils dealt with these issues.

Most village councils across the realm were composed of two to three of the village's most influential elders who were empowered by the Lord or Knight who governed the lands to dispense justice as they deemed fit.

As I would eventually learn during my lessons with Maester Armon, similar systems were followed at the village level across Westeros. It was only in cases of grievous crimes such as rape and murder, that the issue was brought before the Lord or Knight as the case may be. Sometimes where the dispute may involve substantial sums of coin, the matter would also be brought before the Lord for justice.

In towns and cities, all cases of certain crimes were considered the Lord's jurisdiction and therefore I was often very busy. Thankfully a large amount of the lesser crimes were handles by my head of guard.

With the laws of Westeros being completely uncodified, with custom and traditional practice forming the lion's share of justice in Westeros, the system was widely rife with corruption, incompetence and sheer stupidity.

In my lands, there were Mayors in Southwood, Daegon's Valley and Stormtower. In the various other villages and settlements that dotted my lands, village councils performed the tasks of justice and dispute resolution. When I had toured the lands during my progress, I had met the people in question and whilst they were capable administrators, most were unfit to dispense justice in my name.

The problem stemmed from the lack of codification of laws, the incompetence of the judicial officials and the horrifying system of appeals. Lack of a proper legal system would likely kill the efforts of mercantilism and business I was attempting to foster in the populace.

As far as the codification of laws went, there was not much I could do about it at this point. A proper codification of laws required knowledge, expertise and experience that no member of my Household possessed. It also lay far outside the scope of my authority, yet if my memory served Jaehaerys would soon begin the process of codifying the laws across Westeros.

However, the rest, I could do something about.

I had consulted with Maester Armon over the past few moons and we had eventually developed a system of appeals, wherein no coin would be required for appealing a decision. The very idea of having to pay for justice made my blood boil. Instead we had laid down a set of criteria that would have to be met for an appeal to be allowed. Crimes of rape and murder and disputes wherein susbtantial sums of coin were involved would still be heard by me.

Appeals would be heard by Magistrates in Eastwood, Daegon's Valley and Stormtower who would be appointed directly by me for a term of no more than six years before they would be transferred to a different Court. Similarly, regular Magistrates would also be appointed for a term of no more than three years before being transferred.

Hopefully, this would prevent accumulation of influence and power by a Magistrate and would serve to reduce corruption.

Upon having wrapped up the last of the petitioners for the day, I retired to a chamber where I was attended by Maester Armon.

"The edicts for judicial reform as you have stated my Lord are nearly prepared." Said the graying Maester.

"And the candidates for the Magistrates?" I questioned. We had decided that it would be best to begin with appointing two Magistrates, one in Eastwood and one in Stormtower Port, and over the course of the next two years we would appoint two more.

"The criteria that you have laid down are extensive, my Lord. As of now I believe that these three men would potentially be able perform the task admirably. As per your instructions, Ser Jarett has vetted them and states with confidence that they are honest men and well versed in the laws." Responded the Maester Armon. Finding such men had not been an easy task. Learned men were rare. Honest men even more so. I needed men who were both.

"I shall meet these men and decide for myself. Have it arranged, Maester." I said.

"Very well, my Lord." He said as he bowed and exited the chambers.

As I rode into the newly christened Stormtower Port, the tower of the Sept after which it was named was clearly visible from afar. Towering above the rest of the buildings in the town, the lighthouse tower was a thing of beauty. Gleaming white in the sunlight, with its polished stone it was visible from over a league away. In the night, and even during storms, the fire atop the tower would be visible to ships at even greater distances.

My departure from Eastwood had been fairly uneventful. I rode with Ser Morden, his squire James and a retinue of ten men at arms along with a couple of other members of my household. We were to board a small trade ship to Tarth in Stormtower Port. The road to Stormtower was a poor dirt track and was more bumpy than flat in most places. My roads to Southwood and Daegon's Valley were still under construction and were progressing at a good pace. Due to manpower shortages and lack of coin I would not be able to begin construction of the road to Stormtower until the Southwood Road was completed which according to estimate would take another year despite being the shortest of the planned roads.

As I dismounted my horse, I sighted Mayor Owen and Septon Luke as the former approached me and knelt, "Lord Aelon, I bid you welcome to the humble town of Stormtower."

"Rise Owen. It is good to see you hale and hearty. How has Stormtower fared since my last visit?" I stated as I lent a hand to the old man as he struggled to rise.

"Thriving my Lord. Your generosity and able stewardship have allowed this humble town to flourish. The roads are wide as they are clean. Men and women no longer starve. Trade has reached unprecedented levels and as you may have surmised from this year's taxes, gold is flowing through our coffers once again."

That part was true. When I had seen the numbers for the tax collection from Stormtower, I had been taken aback at the magnitude of improvement. With the amount of gold that I had invested in developing the town's infrastructure, I had been expecting improvement, but the actual collections far surpassed my estimates. Trade with Tarth had increased manifold as whisky, soap, grain and charcoal were sold in massive quantities. Soap in question turned out to be my most popular export to Tarth. With its rolling hills and lush fields, Tarth was known for its horses and cattle. With my soap being very effective at cleaning fodder, Evenfall Hall was purchasing soap more than any other lord.

The production and sale of soap from Eastwood had finally reached a level wherein it was finally churning substantial profits. With thousands of bricks of soap being sold every month all across the Stormlands, I had also recently authorised the production of a new variant of soap which had recently been developed which was a near facsimile of the soap used in the modern world for bathing. Mixed with olive oil imported from the Marches, it had a decent fragrance and was much more expensive to produce, primarily due to the price of purchasing and importing olive oil. The sweet smelling soap would soon be sold at higher rates with nobility, merchants and richer smallfolk being my primary market.

While lye based soaps were common enough among nobility across Westeros, mine were cheaper to manufacture due to the industrial processes that I had introduced which allowed me to improve my manufacturing process manifold. Moreover, since the ingredients to my soap were commonplace and easy to source, the cost was driven down even further.

So lost in thought was I that I barely noticed as Mayor Owen and Septon Luke guided me towards the Sept until we were practically in front of it.

Gazing upwards at the Sept, I cleared my throat and turned to the Septon, "The engineers have outdone themselves, you must be very proud of your new sept. This is grander than I ever imagined."

"You honour us, my Lord. But none of this would have been possible without your generosity and patronage. Seven bless you my Lord, Tis the most beautiful Sept in the Stormlands." Said the eager Septon, nearly prostrating himself at my feet as he spoke.

"It is I who is honoured good Septon, that I could play a role in the construction of this Sept. Come, let us retire to the Town Hall so that we may discuss tomorrow's sermon."

The first Sermon to be delivered at the Sept was tomorrow and Septon Luke had asked me to address the congregation to inaugurate the new Sept. I was not looking forward to it. Public speaking had never been one of my strong suits in my previous life and so far as Lord of Eastwood, I had managed to avoid giving speeches. Unfortunately, there had been no polite way of denying the Septon without appearing to be uncaring, or even worse, a man without Faith.

I had spent days practicing my speech with Ser Morden, who I had assumed, having led men into battle, was well used to delivering inspiring speeches to his men. After having stuttered and stammered my way through the speech that I had prepared, Ser Morden had fallen over laughing. After several days of such practices, his laughter had not ceased. Confidence was not something I had in spades at the moment.

We proceeded to spend a tiresome day at the town hall where I consulted with traders, sailors, farmers and fishermen and heard various petitioners. The highlight of the day had been when one of the farmers had stated that he was one of those along the coast that grew cotton. I was glad to see that the production of cotton, which had begun after suitable lands had been found after the Eastwood Census, was growing steadily and without much issue.

The next day as I arrived at the Sept it appeared that near half the town's population had turned up for the sermon as the smallfolk crowded around the Sept even as the sermon hall itself was packed. My anxiety reached cataclysmic levels.

As Septon Luke delivered his sermon, Ser Morden nudged me in the arm, leaned over and whispered, "Well my Lord, time to dazzle the smallfolk with your st-st-stunning speech."

Narrowing my eyes, I turned to him to see a smug grin on his face. Turning back to the Septon, I vowed that I would find a way to get back at the Knight.

As the Septon winded down his sermon, he then announced that I would say a few words to end the sermon for the day.

I walked up to the dais calmly and with surety while inwardly I was shitting bricks. "G-Good people of Stormtower!" I started speaking with disaster in the very first syllable.

"When I first arrived at Stormtower and saw your c-condition, I was struck in my heart with the realization that it was my duty to see you well fed, warm and safe. As though the Seven themselves spoke to m-me, I knew what had to be done." I paused as I struggled to recall the next part of the speech.

"Th-This Sept shall stand as a beacon of light for not just the sailors lost at sea, b-but for every man and woman here to guide them into the embrace of the Seven." As I spoke, I saw the smallfolk listening with rapt attention as though I was an orator of the calibre of Morgan Freeman and my confidence grew.

"House Eastwood stands for the people of these lands. And as long as an Eastwood lives, we shall continue to provide for our people. As you serve us, so shall we serve you. My House's words are 'Deeds, not Words' and so I shall leave it at that and let my actions speak, rather than my words." I said as I finished my speech.

The smallfolk gathered broke out in near thunderous applause, cheering and shouting my name. I could see Ser Morden in the front row nodding at me with an expression resembling approval and pride.

I may be no Robert Baratheon, but at least I'm better than Stannis.

The sails on the ship that had collected me from Stormtower flapped in the wind. The new dock at Stormtower was a vast improvement over the paltry excuse of the dock that had been there during my previous visit. Over the past two years as trade with Evenfall Hall had increased, I had invested heavily in improving shipping facilities at Stormtower. The Sapphire Isle was coming into view on the horizon and I found nervousness beginning to envelop me. What if negotiations didn't go to plan?

I took a deep breath and exhaled, only time would tell. I made my way back into my cabin and sat at the desk bolted to the floor. Funny how even simple things like that were different at sea, a storm would tip the ship to and fro after all and bolting down the heavier furniture was common practice to avoid being crushed.

Just as I closed my eyes a boy came scuttling in through the door. "Lord Aelon, I was told to inform you we should reach port within a few hours."

I opened one eye and replied, "Excellent, wake me up when we reach port."

The boy nodded and scuttled off once more.

That dealt with, I leant back in my chair and waited for us to reach the shore. Darkness soon encroached and calmed my worried thoughts.

A few hours later, the ship docked safely at the harbour on Tarth, and I sighed in relief. Walking across the gangplank and onto dry land again felt like walking into heaven.

The sea was tolerable and certainly would play a large part in my future travels, but the rocking and vastness of the wild seas did not appeal to me as I was told it did to many sailors.

Taking a look at my new surroundings as the ship was unloaded and the guardsmen stretched and got ready for duty, I noticed the bustle of activity in the castle town. Men in the market hollered at those passing by, promising quality goods at excellent prices. Others haggled with leather workers and blacksmiths for clothes and tools for their trades.

Over a dozen large carracks were docked in the harbour with several smaller cogs also visible in the distance. As one of the only two major ports in the Stormlands, Tarth was the closest thing to a trade hub the Stormlands had after Weeping Town. While the Whiteheads held the majority of the overseas trade, it was primarily in the form of imports from Essos.

Outside of a few select products, there was little that the Stormlands tended to export. Something that was in sharp contrast to my knowledge of the books. It was a few years ago that the reason became clear to me. It was a scarce fifty years since the Conquest. Old wars, rivalries and hatreds were still fresh in the minds of the people. A little over fifty years ago, Harren ruled the Riverlands, the Dornish raided the Marches and the Gardeners waged frequent wars with the Storm Kings. Trade of anything but grain and other essential products wasn't a very viable option back then.

The Conquest had changed everything. Trade across the regions was now viable and with Jaehaerys's rule being the single longest time of peace in Westerosi history, I considered that this would be the perfect time for trade and industry to flourish. With Jaehaerys set to achieve his majority any day now, there could not be a more perfect time to begin laying the foundations of the trade empire I envisioned.

As I cast my gaze over the castle town, I observed that the settlement guards appeared adequately equipped and well trained, a cut above the rabble he could recall in the City Watch of King's Landing in the books. The market streets were wide and paved with cobblestone, although it wasn't very well maintained.

As the various peddlers hollered about their products, I noted that most of the products in the port were imports from Cape Wrath, the Vale and the Crownlands, a fact that was one of the reasons I believed that I might be able to strike a deal with the Evenstar. Tarth was a prosperous seat. With its strategic location, it was ideal for trade with the Vale, the Crownlands and even Maidenpool in the Riverlands. The major issue that Tarth faced was that it had little to trade. Sure, ships docked at Tarth regularly and paid fees for docking and anchorage. But little product was actually purchased from Tarth.

If Tarth became the hub for overseas trade of my whisky, charcoal, soap and metalworks, it would bring in gold unlike ever before to the coffers of Evenfall Hall and if all went well, ensure their prosperity for generations to come.

As I disembarked from the ship with Ser Morden, I noted that I was greeted by a portly young man dressed in the finery of a noble. "Greetings Lord Eastwood, be welcome to Tarth, I hope the seas were kind to you. I am Serwyn Tarth, nephew to Lord Brynden Tarth." He said with a tremor in his voice that belied a nervous temperament. He looked to be a few years older than me and yet did not introduce himself as a Knight. Curious.

All in all, I concluded that Evenfall Hall was a picturesque and prosperous seat, especially considering the limited prosperity of the Stormlands. I hoped that, should I manage to strike a deal, the lot of these people would also get better.

The trip up to the castle was pleasant, the island of Tarth was certainly beautiful, earning its name of the Sapphire Isle.

Evenfall Hall was a mighty castle, located on the top of a ridge overlooking a bay on the east of the island. It was a castle well deserved by an ancient family as the Tarth's. The summer sun was blistering, as the weather of the Stormlands often was, and yet the sea breeze felt pleasant on my skin. As pale as Valyrians were, I had discovered some time ago that I was rather prone to sunburn; I was no Targaryen nor dragonlord after all.

Pale stone towers cast a shadow across the courtyard in the afternoon sun, the great gates of the keep lay in front of me, servants hurrying about and my guardsmen carrying the luggage we had brought with us along with some barrels of my whisky I intended as a gift for Lord Brynden.

A few moments later and a man appeared out of the Keep, he had salt and pepper hair with a rather plain face, a friendly look to him he was the kind of man who looked familiar even knowing we had never met before. He was accompanied by a younger man, with a similar look and a lady with the classical Valyrian look, silver hair and violet eyes. They were obviously Lord Brynden Tarth, Ser Edmund Tarth and his wife Lady Larissa Velaryon.

The man who I assumed was Lord Brynden Tarth, smiled as he approached, "Lord Eastwood, I am Lord Brynden Tarth and I welcome you to Evenfall Hall."

A servant ran up to me with bread and salt, breaking off a chunk of the bread. I dunked it into the salt and brought it to my mouth before replying, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lord Tarth."

"May I introduce my brother, Ser Edmund, and his lady wife, Larissa Tarth."

I walked forward and greeted the elder Knight and the Lady. I noticed that Ser Edmund had recognised Ser Morden and had moved to welcome his fellow veteran.

"I hope your journey was not too rough, I've heard the seas have been rather choppy as they always are in the bay." The elder Lord gestured towards the gates and we began walking inside.

I finished swallowing the rather shitty bread, "It was not too dire, though I confess to being rather exhausted."

He gave a friendly smile and spoke, "Chambers have been prepared for you, I shall have you shown to them. Please rest a while before we have our dinner tonight."

I nodded along to that and followed said servant as we walked through the keep.

The guest chambers I was given were very generous, far more so than I would require for what I expected to be a rather short stay. I had a suspicion it was an attempt to relax me so I was in a good mood so they could get a better deal. I walked over to the balcony and leaned against the stone railing. Taking a deep breath of the sea air, I considered the discussions to come this evening.

Most of it was about establishing a company for the trade of whisky and other Eastwood products in foreign ports, sealed through marriage to a girl half my mental age. It was sickening and yet in this world girls her age had married men twice their age in body. Walder Frey and his plethora of young wives came to mind. I would just have to grin and bear it.

I picked up the flagon of wine left on a table and poured myself a cup, downing it in one, I settled on the bed and closed my eyes for a moment.

A few hours later I awoke to a servant telling me Lord Tarth had asked me to join him for dinner in his solar. I jumped off the bed, stretched my arms above my head and followed the servant through the corridors of the castle, up a spiral staircase and to the oaken door which was opened by a guard as I approached.

"That will be all, close the door and stand guard at the end of the corridor." The guard bowed his head to Lord Tarth and exited the solar.

"Good afternoon, my lord."

"To you as well." The lord picked up a flagon I soon ascertained was the whisky I had brought for the trip, and poured two generous servings into some waiting goblets.

"Please, sit down. I expect this conversation will last quite a while."

I chuckled and sat, "I expect so too, my lord."

"Call me Brynden, pleasantries will do us no good in these discussions," Brynden settled in his seat and began again, "So, I gather these trade talks are to regard the sale of whisky, a drink that as you may be well aware, I am rather fond of?" His tone was questioning. I was well aware of that fact in question. Lord Tarth had been one of my more frequent customers in the past two years.

I nodded, "Yes, I'm sure you appreciate Shipbreaker Bay is not an ideal place to have a port dealing in large quantities of ship traffic."

Brynden nodded, I continued, "Tarth has safe anchorage, this is well known. It is perhaps the place best suited to ships in all the Stormlands. It is my hope we will be able to come to an agreement where whisky and other products that are produced in Eastwood will be shipped from the small port on my lands, Stormtower, to Tarth for distribution to foreign ports."

"Does this not still carry risk in storms?" Brynden said, concerned.

I nodded, "Indeed it does, but travel between Stormtower and Tarth is fairly safe using smaller ships. I would ship the goods to Tarth and from then Evenfall Hall shall in turn transport these goods across Westeros."

Tarth looked thoughtful and took a sip of his whisky, sucking his teeth before replying, "What ports would you want on the route? I presume King's Landing and Gulltown."

"Yes to both. White Harbour once yearly too for the Manderlys. I have spoken to the Grafton's and they have agreed to buy whisky in quantity and serve as distributors in the Vale. "

"We have some ships that regularly travel these routes. However, if the volume increases we would need to look at expansion of the fleet."

I took a sip of my whisky and nodded once more. I held out the bound set of paper that I was carrying. "This is my proposal, my Lord. Essentially, Eastwood would manage the production of the various goods as well as the cost of transporting them to Tarth. You will in all likelihood have to expand your warehousing and storage facilities as even the current volumes may exceed your current capabilities. The goods shall be shipped from Tarth to Gulltown, White Harbour and King's Landing to begin with using your trade fleet and eventually to other ports in Westeros such as Maidenpool, Duskendale and Lannisport as and when demand may increase. This cost would be borne by you."

Brynden smiled, "I believe the idea has merit. We will need to discuss the split of profit."

I gave a half grin, this hadn't been half as difficult as I'd expected.

I leaned back in my seat. "Well my Lord you must consider that as I am responsible for production as well transport to Tarth, my share will be substantially greater. As is mentioned in the proposal, we shall create the Eastwood-Tarth Trading Company and you shall be entitled to twenty five percent of the profits."

It was a lowball offer, and I knew it. Tarth brought a lot to the table. In addition to the shipping facilities, the Tarths were an ancient and noble House. Adding their name would bring instant credibility and engender trust the likes of which Eastwood would not generate for decades.

It appeared that Lord Brynden knew this as well. He scoffed. "Twenty five percent is a pittance. I would barely be able to recover my costs. The Tarth name will itself allow you to extend your reach far beyond your current capabilities and open doors that would remain closed to House Eastwood for generations at the very least. I have excellent relations in the Crownlands, the Vale and even in the Riverlands. I would settle for no less than forty percent."

I kept my face blank but grimaced internally. Forty percent was daylight robbery. I had not expected such shrewdness and cunning in matters of trade and commerce from a Stormlord. "Forty percent is too high, my Lord. Even if I strike a deal with you, you are well aware that words are wind and alliances more fleeting than summer winds. If you were willing to tie this alliance in blood I may be willing to settle at thirty percent."

The Lord of Evenfall Hall looked at me carefully. "Elena is the only daughter of House Tarth yet unmarried. I sired no daughters myself as my wife bore me only sons and so Elena has been the darling of this household since the day she was born. I would not part with her lightly, Lord Eastwood."

I had expected such an answer. As much as the Lord tried to hide it, it was clear that he wanted this alliance. The only question was how much could he get me to concede as we sealed the deal.

"My House is young Lord Tarth, but my lands are prosperous and my smallfolk well fed and productive. I am a Lord sworn directly to Lord Baratheon and if married to me, your niece shall be the Lady Eastwood. I am willing to forego the dowry that you would customarily offer. Your niece is not cattle and I am no shepherd. She shall have a place on my council and shall run my household." I responded.

"You are young Lord Aelon. And yet you speak with maturity and intelligence beyond your years. Very well, we shall seal this deal in blood. You shall marry my niece and Evenfall Hall shall in turn be entitled to thirty five percent of the profits." Responded the elder Lord.

Thirty five was a good number. It was what I had predicted myself. But the Lord had made a mistake. He had conceded too quickly. If he had stood firm for a little longer, I may have eventually conceded to thirty five. But now I had the upper hand.

His initial bargaining was something to be expected of other more mercantile houses but his Stormlander blood or perhaps Evenfall Hall's Maester did not expand beyond this stage in their planning of the negotiations; perhaps because of my youth.

"Thirty three percent, my Lord. That is as high as I can go. It is I who bear the cost of manufacturing and production. Transport to Tarth is not cheap either. Thirty three percent my Lord. Let us agree to it. And together we shall dominate the Narrow Sea and secure the future of our Houses for generations to come." I said as I leaned forward and looked into his eyes directly. This was it. The culmination of the past two years of enterprise and hard work boiled down to this very moment.

The elder Lord looked at me and there was silence for a moment. He then leaned forward and said. "You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eastwood, but I believe we have a deal. But there is one condition."

A smile threatened to break out on my face as I struggled to maintain my composure.

"My nephew Serwyn, as you may have noticed, is not a Knight. He has little aptitude for martial pursuits and spends most of his days with his nose buried in his books or following Elena around like a lost pup. I fear that with Elena gone, he shall be most despondent. Allow him to join your household, the boy is intelligent and shall likely be of use to you. What say you, Lord Eastwood." He said as he extended his hand forward to seal the deal.

After a moment of thought, I raised my own hand and shook his. "I believe this shall be the beginning of a long and fruitful alliance, my Lord."