Chapter 80: Act 2: Chapter 25

Twenty-sixth day, Twelfth Moon, 253 AC (+36 days)

"And so, I bring this gathering of Lords and Masters to a start!"

There was polite applause throughout the hall interspersed with a loud hoot from Lord Umber – a giant of a man, whose voice and mannerisms were the same size as his height. The hall was packed as the nobility of the North, and their families attended the main meeting. The minor nobility, like Donovar and his family, if they decided to come, were elsewhere for this meeting. Some families, like Koryn, didn't come – though in that case, it was because I asked Koryn to stay behind to keep watch over everything for me. Some of the minor nobility were invited to this specific event, and those invitations were highly prized as they indicated that the family had Lord Stark's favor.

Lord Edwyle Stark stood proud at the head table as he gazed across the hall. "As usual, we shall start with the business of the realm first."

Lord Umber snorted loudly, which Edwyle duly ignored. "As to the wider realm, grain yields were lower than expected this past summer in the Reach as a result of a prolonged drought. Prices will be higher than normal, and the Maesters assure me that winter will be longer than the summer was, but not unreasonably so."

There was some worried muttering across the hall as the men who had yet to place orders to stock their winter stores were concerned about the higher prices. It was not something I had to worry about as we likely had more than we needed, but we lacked the ability to sell and transport any excess – except to maybe the Glovers. I would have to talk to them later.

Once the mutterings quieted, Edwyle continued to speak. "The Riverlands was generally unaffected, but it won't make up for the loss. The King has been quiet since his son's death two years ago, and no new policy has been drafted. Overall, this past summer has been quiet for the southerners although Lord Manderly has indicated that Essos may be heating up."

At Edwyle's indication, Theomore addressed the hall. "The Disputed Lands have seen an increase in fighting which is unusual for the fall season. The seas are still quiet, so I am unsure of the reasons at this point."

Lord Karstark stood and said, "Will this have any impact over the winter?"

Theomore shook his head. "Doubtful. Come spring there may be additional trading opportunities," here was where most of the nobility's attentions were lost – though Edwyle, myself and Lord Bolton continued to pay attention. "Especially, if we have excess grain at the end of winter. If the fighting heats up on the sea, we may also see a spike in prices for seasoned wood. For now, what grain has been brought to the North from Essos is higher priced than expected as the landowners have been holding on to it tightly and waiting to see if full-scale war breaks out once again and grain prices climb ever higher."

Theomore yielded the floor back to Edwyle, who once again addressed the hall. "As to the North, yields were average this summer with tax collection being without major issue. As to the wildings, the Night's Watch has not found any evidence of any sort of resurgence of a King-Beyond-The-Wall. Lord Umber, if you would report?"

Lord Umber heaved himself out of his chair and in a loud, booming voice, said, "Only a few small raids this summer. They've still been licking their wounds from Redbeard's attack and word from the Rangers at the Night's Watch say that there aren't any large groups."

Edwyle nodded toward Lord Karstark, who said, "The coast has been quiet with only a few raids."

Lord Mormont spoke without prompting, "The Frozen Shore has been silent. We had one raid early in the summer, but the damned cannibals must have had a rough winter."

"Poor them," scoffed Lord Umber.

"Indeed," replied Edwyle, sarcastically. "I would also like to take this moment to formally introduce the newest house in the North to their first gathering – Michael Ragnar and his family."

I stood up and gave a shallow bow to the room. "I am honoured to be here and counted amongst your number."

Edwyle resumed his speech as I sat down. "I'm sure you have all had contact with Michael over the past few years, and I am pleased to say that he has already become quite established in the region, and I look forward to next summer as he transforms the Stoney Shore into a productive region."

"Furthermore, most of the merchants have arrived in Wintertown already, though as Lord Manderly has already said, some prices may be higher than expected. All of your taxes have been received and counted without issue. Are there any concerns to be addressed?"

Lord Flint, from Flint's Finger, stood and asked, "Has there been any progress with the Ironborn? I remember that letters were sent to him directly?"

Edwyle replied, "There were letters from him, but no agreements have been made. Michael, can you explain further?"

I stood nervously and addressed the group, "As Lord Stark said, no agreements have been made. I've been trying to get agreements from them so that they can, uh, channel their energies elsewhere and hopefully next summer I can have a small group of them trade for me."

"Trade? With the Ironborn?" asked Lord Flint incredulously.

"Aye, trade. If I can get them to see us as a source of steady, conflict-free coin, they will hopefully turn elsewhere for plunder. With closer ties and the backing of the Greyjoys, hopefully, the Ironborn will not plague our shores."

Lord Flint sighed. "I know you are new, but Ironborn are deceitful untrustworthy beasts. They are forbidden from breaking the King's peace directly, so they skirt the laws – they attack, but not our strongholds - only our smallfolk - so they are never caught."

"I agree, Lord Flint, but you exaggerate," replied Lord Mormont. "We know that since the Targaryens gained the Iron Throne, the attacks from the Ironborn have dramatically decreased. There are a few limited raids in the spring, perhaps summer if the winter was extreme, but the damage is not disastrous."

"A death by a thousand cuts is still a death," retorted Lord Flint.

"I agree," I said, "which is why I want to turn their attention elsewhere. They attacked my village, but that was before I had a castle and they are now unlikely to attack again as they risk breaking the King's peace. But many of my people are vulnerable, so I need to do something to make things better. This may not work, but I need to do something."

"Aye, their stranglehold on the west coast seas has killed the desire for any merchants to travel," Lord Mormont replied.

"The trade fleet that recently passed was a great boon," stated Lord Flint, reluctantly.

"That is another part of my plan," I said. "I hope to one day afford enough ships to secure the seas along our coast and encourage merchants, but that is a long way off. For now, trade fleets like we just had are our best option as the Ironborn will not attack that for fear of breaking the King's peace."

Lord Flint turned to Edwyle. "Might we expect any aid from the King in this? Perhaps funds for ships?"

Edwyle stroked his chin and pursed his lips. "Doubtful. We have had a few fruitful letters that may hold promise, but I would not expect anything to come of this for the spring. Next summer, I intend to head down to King's Landing to address the King directly."

There were nods of appreciation amongst the assembled nobility. "Any other concerns before we end?" asked Edwyle.

With no other concerns coming forward, Edwyle moved to end the meeting. "Well then, this first meeting of the Lord's Gathering of 253AC is hereby closed. Let the festivities begin!"

There was a loud cheer throughout the room, with Lord Umber leading it. As the room began to disperse, I made my way over to Theomore who had yet to stand.

"Michael," he said, greeting me with a nod of the head.

We clasped arms, and I said, "Theomore, it is good to see you again!"

"How was my brother faring?"

"Good – sea-travel suits him."

"It's in our blood," he said, bobbing his head. "And the fleet?"

"Excellently! They departed quickly once fall made itself apparent, but most of the trading had already been completed by that point."

"Wonderful! And? Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

"Aye, and profitable to boot. I don't know about the other lords – I will talk with them later – but for my own purse, it was well received."

"Excellent. And your men for the Lady Alice? Did they depart successfully?"

"They did," I confirmed. "With the upcoming winter there was some confusion, but your brother convinced me that there was still plenty to learn during winter and that they could even do some trade routes down to southern Essos."

"Quite. There is plenty of profit to be had in the area – even during winter. Come spring, I'm sure they will have made a tidy profit and will become well acquainted with the ship."

"That would be wonderful. I've sent my nephew along as part of the crew as well. I hope that one day he will be its captain."

Theomore nodded. "Wise. Well, I'll make sure he is well looked after while he is in White Harbor."

I smiled gratefully. "Thank you. That will be welcome news for his mother – she's worried for him, and this is his first time away from home."

"Of course!"

"Oh, by the way, do you think it would be feasible to have these fleets be a more frequent thing? I touched on it briefly during this meeting, but I think that it is not only feasible from a profit perspective, but also essential for starting to control the coast."

Theomore looked thoughtful. "Possible but I will have to review the information from the fleet myself when it returns to know for sure. Come spring I will have an answer for you, but if it is profitable, I think we can make it work. If not, perhaps Lord Stark might consider paying some of the cost – or perhaps even the King?" At my doubtful look, he chuckled. "Perhaps not, but there are different options open to us, fear not. The Ironborn will not stop us for long."

"The sooner the Ironborn recognize the land and sea are ours, the sooner they can piss off," said Lord Flint as he joined us.

Theomore chuckled. "Robin, good of you to join us. How did you find the fleet?"

"Well received – extremely so. Good timing too. We purchased most of our food needs from them directly – certainly at a lower price than what is being charged here. I understand that a good portion of that which he had bought when the fleet returned was from you, Master Michael?"

"Please, just Michael is fine. And yes, it was. We had a fair sized surplus even if we faced a truly terrible winter."

"Truly?" he asked, astonished.

"Aye, we have a very fertile under plow and are working on some new methods to increase crop yields."

"We will have to talk further about this later then; it sounds most intriguing. Are there plans to have more fleets in the future?"

"We were just discussing that actually," replied Theomore. "According to Michael, it will likely have been quite profitable, and if so, then we will look to do so again next summer."

"Excellent. Can you keep me apprised? I would be most grateful."

"Of course," assured Theomore. "Michael, this certainly seems to have been an excellent idea of yours. I look forward to many profitable ventures in our future."

I smiled. "As do I."

I felt a large hand clamp down on my shoulder. A loud voice from behind me said, "You must be the new one – Michael!"

I turned to see Lord Umber towering over me. "Ah, yes, that's me."

"I hear you are the one to thank for that marvellous new drink!"

"The vodka?" I asked.

"Aye, the Northern Water. Wonderful stuff! Wonderful stuff!" He peered down at me before giving me a beaming smile. "And I know just the thing to celebrate! Come; let's see who can drink the most!"

I looked in a panic to Theomore and Robin who just looked at me with pity. Damn it. I was fucked.

The next morning was rough, and last night remained a blur. According to Nyra, Lord Umber, Jon, was somewhat impressed with my drinking ability. I think she was just trying to raise my spirits.

With a pounding headache, my family and I made our way to the tourney that was being hosted by the Starks. Unlike their southern counterparts, the North tended to eschew the traditional tourney aspects like jousting and instead focused more on melees and wrestling. There were also other competitions, such as horse racing, strength competitions, drinking games, and a whole manner of entertainment. Today was all about fighting, and Arthur and Ryden had both argued with Nyra and I about participating. With my headache, I was an easy opponent, but Nyra still managed to keep them out of the melee, and they would take part only in the wrestling and strength competitions. Though they were forbidden from the special wrestling match that occurred in the snows at night.

Apparently, the participants would fight in loincloths, which vaguely reminded me of sumo wrestlers, and would fight late at night, outside in the cold. The matches were fierce and quick, as the cold quickly set in and could be made even worse by snow. Nyra thought it ridiculous and would not allow the boys to participate.

Tomorrow, there would be a large hunt for the men while the women stayed behind and had their own gathering. The day after would be one of relaxation, followed by a dance at night, with the fourth day being the final competitions amongst the top placing participants from today's tourney as well as the horse race. Finally, a great feast would be held on the last day to bring a close to the festivities.

Already, many of the nobility had sent off retainers to purchase goods to prepare for winter, and while I lacked any retainers to do such things for me, I planned to go out the day after the hunt to explore a bit and see what was being sold. We brought little with us to be sold as most had already been sold to the fleet, but we did bring some more spun, dyed wool that had not been made in time before the fleet had left.

Nyra and I made our way to the stands, as Donovar and Zane's families went separately, and made our way to the quietest section – essentially the furthest point from where the Umbers had gathered. As we took our seats, one of the servants brought us drinks, and some food and I slunk further into my seat and pulled my hat down closer to my eyes, trying to block out the light.

The strength competitions were first and involved various competitions like the caper toss, where contestants carried trees, boulder pickups, and wagon pull. Ryden and Arthur were both competing against other children and young teens for this contest instead of against adults who competed with much larger weights.

The first few competitors were young teens that I didn't recognize, but from those cheering the loudest, I could tell which house they belonged to. Rickard Stark, Edwyle's son, put up a good attempt and scored highly, but did not win. Ryden struggled through but managed to place in the top ten, while Arthur seemed to have channelled Donovar and gained a second wind after almost dropping the tree and managed to finish.

Nyra and I stood and cheered for them as they each crossed the finish line, and we were incredibly proud of our boys. The rest of the strength competitions were interesting, with Ryden and Arthur placing in similar positions in all of them.

The wrestling competition was next, with the adults going first once again to let the children rest. The wrestling was, well – boring. I had had a few friends compete back in high school, but it had never been something that interested me. It also lacked a commentator that many sports had back on Earth, and in general, lacked the atmosphere I had always associated with sports. Ryden lost his match, and since it was a single elimination format, he was disappointed to have done so poorly. Arthur, on the other hand, ever the martial one, won his first two fights before losing against one of the eldest children competing.

The rest of the day passed too slowly for my poor head, which was made all the worse by seeing Lord Umber seemingly unaffected by the previous night's drinking and even competing in events. Bullshit. The hunt the next day was just as uninteresting as the hunting I had done with the Manderlys, as even the new setting and company did little to improve the event for me.

Blessedly, the third day arrived, and I was able to relax. Constantly dealing with the nobility and trying to create closer ties was exhausting, especially since I knew that I was different. Not just on a social level, but my interests, my opinions, my morals, they were all different. It was hard to connect with people that I didn't share at least something with. With the Manderlys, trade was a connector; the Glovers and Mormonts, our trade deals. Even for the former, my ties with the Glovers and Mormonts was positive but still distant.

Selling off the colored wool was simple enough, as spun wool was always in demand and with prices inflated in preparation of the coming winter, the profit was high. I ended up purchasing some supplies I knew that we could use more of, like linseed oil, but otherwise just wandered through the town.

A voice shook me from my wandering. "Excuse me! Is that you, Michael?"

I turned to see a vaguely familiar person approaching me. "Perhaps?" I answered.

The man approached me with squinted eyes that I saw light up with recognition. "Aye! It is! I thought you looked familiar! Do you remember me?"

I shook my head. "You look familiar, but I can't place you."

He mock gasped. "Oh, the horror." He held up his hands in a placating manner. "That is quite alright; truthfully, our single encounter was more to my benefit than yours. So, tell me, what is a farmer from Deepwood Motte doing in Winterfell?"

I blinked. "Err, what?"

"You told me years ago that you were a farmer when you assumed, I was asking you to join me as a bard."

Memories of the event started to trickle in about the event. I think I had been in Deepwood seeing Arlan, the innkeeper, about something?

"Oh! You were the bard asking me about my songs."

He smiled brightly. "Aye! My name is Royce, and I am happy to see you again! Would you like to grab a drink?"

I laughed. "Sure."

He led the way to a nearby tavern which was only half full as it was well past midday. As we sat down, Royce flagged down a serving girl and ordered us two beers, but I interrupted, "Just a small beer for me."

When she had returned with the drinks, Royce said, "So, what is a farmer doing around here?"

I chuckled. "I actually got a bit of a promotion. I was elevated to a Masterly house after an Ironborn raid on my village."

Royce's jaw dropped. "Truly?"

"Truly," I confirmed. "It happened a few years back. And you?"

He shook his head in wonderment. "Nothing so great. I took your advice to heart and adapted my music, and I found great success with it. It went well in the North, but it really took off when my wife and I travelled to Braavos."

"Oh? How is it? I've only heard stories."

"Magnificent. Utterly unique!"

"And what brings you back?"

He smiled sheepishly. "My wife and kids. Our children had been born in Braavos and have never known their homeland. My wife decided we ought to come back, and so we did. Poor timing with the winter though."

I laughed. "Poor timing indeed. How long have you been here?"

"Three months," he replied.

"Did you just plan to winter here in town?"

"Aye, we had purchased a home for the winter."

I scratched my chin in thought. "Well, I've got a proposition for you. I'd love to pick your mind over winter about Braavos and music in general, so I'm offering to host you over the winter."

The man gaped. "That is very generous, Master Michael."

"I don't need an answer now, so talk to your wife about it and let me know. I'm staying in Winterfell but let one of the guards know you want to talk to Master Michael Ragnar, and they will get me."

"Thank you for the offer, Master Michael."

We clasped arms, and I said, "Well, it's been interesting seeing you again, but I have to go. There is a ball tonight, and my wife would be furious if I missed it."

With a grin, I downed the rest of my beer and made my way back to the castle.

The ball was loud, but Nyra was loving it, and I was happy seeing her having fun. They had all worn their finest dresses, supplemented by purchases they made here, along with some modest – compared to the other nobility at least – jewelry. The children also had fun and made new friends, and Ryden even briefly danced with Alice, even though he was being closely watched by her brother Marlon. Luckily for us, Northerners weren't formal in their dance, so we didn't stick out like completely sore thumbs for not knowing any formal dances.

Of course, with any social gathering, there was an undercurrent. Jockeying for position, or gossip running amuck, the hall was littered with multiple groups of people talking. While Nyra was dancing with her brother, I made my way over to a lone man who sat at a table in a secluded corner.

"Mind if I sit?" I asked.

"Aye, feel free."

"My name is Michael Ragnar. Nice to meet you."

"Cedric Forrester."

"Ah, I've heard of your house before in my talks with Master Glover."

Cedric chuckled. "Good things I hope?"

"Aye, good things. I had been talking to him before about sustainable and consistent farming, and he mentioned your excellent stewardship of the forests."

Cedric smiled. "I will have to thank Master Glover for the compliments. My house has always been dedicated to preserving the integrity of the forests."

"It sounds like a beautiful place."

"Ironrath is," he confirmed. "It sits proudly amongst the trees – a strong and beautiful place."

"How are the snows in the winter? You are more inland than I, but I would imagine the trees would help."

"They do," he replied. "It can still get quite deep, but nothing like the eastern side of the mountains where Winterfell is. The trees help us shelter from some of the worst of it and the mountains protect us from any easterly winds carrying snow."

"It seems quite cozy."

"Aye, nice and warm in the winter – though it does not compare to Winterfell."

I laughed. "Few things do."

We were quiet for a while as we let the ball continue around us as we drank.

Cedric eventually broke the silence. "I hear you have had success with attracting trade to your land."

"I have," I confirmed. "We had a successful trade fleet visit, and we are looking to expand into new trades all the time."

Cedric scratched his chin. "I've been looking for a better source of salt for a while now. Our salt mine was depleted many years ago, and trade from White Harbor has been our main source, but it is expensive and a long journey."

I nodded. "I can see your trouble. I have good news for you; I hope to open a new salt mine by the Twin Lakes this next summer."

He blinked. "Truly?"

"Truly. It has a few other good sources for mining, but as far as we can tell it also has a sizeable salt deposit. I would be happy to trade with you."

Cedric grinned. "Excellent! I am sure we can talk details once you've got it going."

As we clasped hands in agreement, a loud voice interrupted us. "Look what we have here. Bloody Forresters will sell themselves to anyone it seems."

Cedric scowled angrily at the approaching man, whose girth outcompeted Theomore's. "This is none of your concern, Whitehill."

The big man, a Whitehill, laughed. "Oh, such a strong spine." His eyes cut to mine. "Too bad it's consorting with an up-jumped peasant," he said, mockingly.

"At least we have Ironwood," Cedric retorted.

Whitehill's face pinched. "Because you stole what was ours!"

Cedric rolled his eyes and laughed mockingly. "No, your House is just incompetent!"

Like a ghost, the pale Lord Bolton appeared from nowhere at the side of Whitehill. "Ah, Lord Whitehill. I had something to discuss with you – come with me."

Lord Whitehill glanced over to his liege and smoothened out his face. "Of course, Lord Bolton." As they left, he turned and hissed out a warning, "Don't think I've forgotten this insult!"

After they left, and the crowd around us went back to their own conversations, I asked Cedric, "Is that something to be worried about?"

He waved off my concern. "No, it's the same thing every time. I swear, they live to come up with ways to insult my House so that when we meet, he can try to feel superior. Fool doesn't realize it will never work." He stood abruptly. "I need some fresh air to cleanse his stench from my nose. I look forward to talking with you later."

"I as well."

As the atmosphere of the party returned to normal after Cedric and Whitehill had left, I continued to nurse my cup of wine as I was not looking for a repeat hangover any time soon. I finished my cup and made my way over to the other side of the room, where Nyra had finished dancing and made sure to avoid the Ryswells – I would never forgive Dunn for his comment at Violet's wedding. I saw Donovar talking excitedly with Master Cassel, and Zane was nowhere to be found – but likely out in the kennels with Mateo. Before I had reached Nyra, however, I was waylaid by a tall, brown-haired man.

"Master Michael," he said, warmly.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage – I have yet to recognize the faces of everyone here."

He laughed, just as warmly as he talked. "Oh-ho-ho, that is quite understandable. I am Lord Denys Dustin of Barrow Hall."

I smiled in recognition. "Greetings, Lord Denys. I have been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time now."

"As have I," he said. "Come, let us talk in private." He led me out of the hall, and we made our way to the top of the wall surrounding Winterfell. He motioned some of the Stark men-at-arms that were already atop it away and gazed out among the fields surrounding the castle.

When he didn't speak, I broke the silence. "How have you been enjoying the party, Lord Denys?"

He chuckled. "Oh, quite busy but rewarding all the same."

"That is good to hear," I said, venturing to see what he actually wanted to talk about.

"I hope to have good relations between us," he said.

"I do as well."

"I wish to apologize for not coming to your daughter's wedding, but I had prior commitments that could not be avoided."

I blinked. "Ah, do not worry, Lord Denys, I understand."

"Truly, I think it is a shame, but I imagine it was a wonderful event."

"It was," I confirmed.

"It needs to be rectified. Perhaps next summer I can host you at Barrow Hall? There is plenty to see – Barrowton is the North's second largest, year-round, town after White Harbor."

"That sounds like a wonderful opportunity. I gratefully accept."

"Wonderful! There is much you can learn from my House – I always say it is important to lead by example. And while you are there, I am sure we can come to some other agreements as well – for food and the like. I'm sure even some of my smallfolk may even take up an offer from you to move to a new place."

Was he trying to take me under his wing? I wasn't sure what he was trying to do with this conversation, but I nodded anyway. "I look forward to seeing your famed castle."

Denys puffed up. "I am sure you will be impressed. Come; let us return inside."

"Actually, I think I will stay out here a while and enjoy the fresh air if you don't mind."

With that, I was left alone at the top of the walls as the guards continued to maintain their distance.

All of the politicking was a headache, and I found myself constantly not knowing what was going on. And Northerners were supposed to be simpler and more straightforward.

I snorted - straightforward my ass.

"No, she said that Lady Bolton has been busier this gathering – much more so than usual," Nyra whispered.

"Oh, perhaps she's been bored?" I replied.

Nyra rolled her eyes. "No, Lady Marna commented on how unusual it was. It's not like I have a reference point, but the woman was very outgoing."

"Did she approach you?"

"No, she greeted me once when I was in a group with others, but never privately."

I shrugged. "That fits with most people's reactions to me. Polite and formal, if distant."

"We've had some good conversations with some people, like the Tallharts."

"True," I conceded. "But some really rubbed me the wrong way, like the Whitehills."

"The Whitehills are the vassals of the Boltons."

"Really? But they are so distant from each other. How does that work?"

It was Nyra's turn to shrug. "No idea. But it could be something to worry about."

I snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Something to worry about? I'm sure when we next see them, years from now, whatever thing they have planned will come to failure or success, and I'm sure that whatever social ladder they are climbing will not affect us."

"I suppose. I just don't like not knowing."

"I find ever since we arrived here, there is much we don't know."

"We will need to be more involved then," stated Nyra.

I grimaced. "Maybe a bit more."

She rolled her eyes and cut off any more of my objections. Lord Edwyle stood before the assembled hall for the last speech of the gathering, as many of the nobility had had their fill of excitement and pleasure and now looked forward to returning home before the increasingly frequent snows hampered their passage.

"My Lords," said Edwyle, "I bid you welcome to our final feast before your departure tomorrow. I trust you have all enjoyed yourselves?" A loud cheer answered him. "Excellent. My Maester has finally counted the taxes and compiled the records you have all provided and has determined that the North had a comfortably above average yield this year. Take heart and may this keep you in good company over this winter."

There was polite applause to this statement, but many did not take it seriously. It would mean good things if the winter was shorter than the summer, or even of equal length, but if the winter ran long, it would do little good for us. Still, any good news heading into winter was welcome news.

"The Night's Watch," he continued, "has been most grateful for your donations. The King has also sent a generous donation to make up for many of the other kingdoms sending so little. The food and supplies shall see them through the winter as they continue to guard us against savages."

Edwyle raised a cup into the air. "My Lords and Ladies, I hereby bring this Lord's Gathering of 253AC to a close. To the North!"

"To the North!"