Ch-46: Silver Mine

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"Master Tumbor, I hope you can spare some time to create a painting of this ship. I want our new merchant ships to be exactly like this."

Jorah gave his orders to Master Tumbor before leaving him alone on the vast ship.

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In a land known for its harsh winters and unforgiving terrain, 700 men were brought from King's Bay to the northern coast. However, only 500 of them survived the gruelling journey. These survivors were willing to work hard in exchange for three meals a day.

With the sudden increase in population, the development of the fishermen's villages along the Stony Shore and the watchtower in the Frozen Shore far exceeded the original expectations. The meals provided by the Soldier's common kitchen were a dream come true for those in need, filled with pork, fish, and vegetables.

The Maesters from Citadel had not yet arrived, but Jorah had entrusted Maester Allen with the task of caring for these people who might not be highly regarded in the North.

"Milord, the monthly list is here," Master Rodrick presented a thick ledger to Jorah unexpectedly one morning.

Jorah questioned, "Is something amiss, Rodrick? The month isn't over yet."

"I'm not sure, Milord. I hope you'll pardon this intrusion," replied Master Rodrick, keeping his posture humble as he pushed the ledger forward.

Jorah didn't mind the interruption, but when the Master of Coin brought such a ledger, it usually meant trouble. He carefully examined the ledger but found nothing amiss with the numbers.

"If there's an issue with the ledger, Master Rodrick, I'm not seeing it," Jorah honestly stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Milord, you haven't checked the profit we've made this month. It's only been twenty days on the calendar, but our profit has increased fivefold," Master Rodrick explained without hesitation.

Jorah was puzzled, "And why would that be a problem?"

"Milord, profits don't usually spike so dramatically in such a short time. I suspect someone may be tampering with the numbers to make themselves look better."

Jorah chuckled, "I'm glad you're vigilant, Rodrick. It seems your wits are still sharp. However, there's nothing amiss here. The difference you fail to recognize is that, for the past two months, our supply chain has outperformed our historical records."

"Supply chain?" Master Rodrick was perplexed.

Jorah clarified, "I mean our wood is now free, so we're not spending as much on building boats. We have more longboats and trading ships than ever before. Additionally, the precious fur we acquire in the North has increased four or five-fold. It's not just what we collect ourselves but also what we buy from our friends across the wooden bridge. That bridge, made of wood, bears the weight of gold."

Jorah tried to explain as clearly as possible to Rodrick, who wasn't well-versed in trade. "Why don't you consult with Gibbs? He may have a better understanding of this."

Jorah sent Rodrick to Gibbs to facilitate a more open conversation between them, as the two older men understood each other better.

While Jorah sent Rodrick on his way, he locked his office and sat down. Closing his eyes, his consciousness shifted to a young Gyrfalcon perched inside his solar. This bird, acquired at a high price from a trader, was trained to be both a pet and a hunting companion. Through this bond, Jorah had established a deep connection with the bird.

The Gyrfalcon soared gracefully, granting Jorah a bird's-eye view of his island. He observed the fishermen's village and the training grounds, where he stumbled upon three couples engaged in amorous activities in the mountains and forests. 

This unexpected spectacle was just the beginning, as he also noticed some soldiers pilfering copper from the warehouse and sailors hiding furs in concealed compartments on their ships.

Jorah made a mental note of these occurrences and continued his aerial survey over the civilian areas. Law and order prevailed, and the people wore smiles, which was reassuring. Being on an island, Jorah had few spies and a low risk of traitors.

However, as he ventured closer to the northern mountains, something caught his eye—a glimmer amidst the white snow. The Gyrfalcon landed on a protruding rock, revealing a shining substance—a vein of silver.

Jorah couldn't contain his excitement. "Silver!" he exclaimed. But his elation quickly gave way to apprehension. Mining this silver in the northern mountains would require cooperation from the mountain clans, whose claim to the land was uncertain. Keeping the discovery a secret was imperative, as revealing it could lead to the King's Landing court laying claim to it or imposing heavy taxes.

Jorah massaged his furrowed brow, acknowledging the challenges ahead. "This won't be easy."

The Gyrfalcon returned and let out a cry. Jorah happily rubbed his head and the Falcon made its way on Jorah's shoulders. Jorah knew the greedy bird wanted its reward.

He picked a small plate that was filled with boiled tender meat and he poured it over on a plate for the bird. The Gyrfalcon let out a cheerful cry, rubbed his head on Jorah's face and jumped down on the table to enjoy its treat.

 As Jorah watched the bird eating the meat, he realized the solution to his predicament—a small army of skin changers.

"It may be the perfect time to reconnect with my peculiar uncle," Jorah muttered to himself as he contemplated the possibilities.

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