Three coins lay on Gryn Crabb’s table: a Gold Dragon, a Silver Stag, and a Copper Star.
[To give a sense of scale: a full suit of plate armor starts at 16 Gold Dragons, chainmail at 6 Gold Dragons, a fine warhorse at 10 Gold Dragons, an Unsullied costs 100 Gold Dragons (excluding shipping), a meal with meat and a mug of beer costs 20–30 Copper Stars, and a peasant earns about 1 Gold Dragon a year.] The Crabb vault currently held a little over 2,000 Gold Dragons in ready coin—not counting the goods stored in the lord’s granaries and storerooms.
However, the family owed an external debt of 5,000 Gold Dragons, and last year’s interest alone had come to 500 Gold Dragons.
After the War of the Usurper, at the behest of Hand of the King Jon Arryn, the nobles and merchants of the Vale had issued mandatory loans to help the lords of Crackclaw Point “tide over their difficulties.” It was one of the conditions of the post-war peace treaty imposed on Crackclaw Point.
You would never see a single Gold Dragon of that loan in cash; the Vale nobles and merchants had simply used the land that originally belonged to Crackclaw Point as the loan’s principal.
That was how ruthless they were.
One could refuse, of course, but Baratheon’s armies had barely put away their armor, and Robert had not yet sated his appetite for war.
House Crabb’s domain had been valued at 5,000 Gold Dragons.
Over the years, the interest paid by House Crabb had already accumulated to 7,500 Gold Dragons.
According to the contract, they still had to pay interest for another five years—another 2,500 Gold Dragons—and in the final year, repay the 5,000 Gold Dragons of principal as well.
This was a suppression tactic originating from the Red Keep’s wariness toward the nobles of Crackclaw Point.
Under the high-sounding name of post-war reconstruction, the interest rate was set just high enough to keep them scraping by without driving them to desperate acts, while effectively stifling any room for growth.
For the Baratheon dynasty, a weak and submissive lord of Crackclaw Point was the only good lord.
…
House Crabb’s total population across the entire territory was barely over two thousand people.
Because they had to stay on constant guard against year-round raids by the mountain Wildlings, they had to tighten their belts to maintain a ready force of two hundred house guards.
This was the absolute outer limit of their capacity.
Years of constant warfare had left House Crabb’s domain with far more women than men.
The women here were broad-framed and sturdy; most had to plow fields and hunt just like men, and spearwives were numerous.
As long as weapons were provided, these spearwives could be called up for battle to pillage coin and capture men.
In truth, almost the entire populace of House Crabb’s domain were soldiers in waiting.
Leaving behind only craftsmen, the elderly, and the young, a desperate, full-scale mobilization could raise up to fifteen hundred combatants at most.
Against the surrounding mountain Wildling chiefs—whose forces ranged from a few dozen to a few hundred at most, and were completely disorganized—they could sweep them away with ease!
Why bother farming?
As noted earlier, House Crabb’s house words had been temporarily replaced with “We Do Not Sow.” First on the list was dealing with those mountain Wildling tribes that had gathered together, intending to raid the domain now that the heir, Gryn, was still young.
It would begin with this war.
…
The following day, heavy dark clouds hung low in the sky.
The curved Whispers Castle was roughly built, lacking any refined artistry.
Yet it was large enough that in times of war, all thousand-plus smallfolk from the surrounding area could take refuge within its walls.
Gryn stood atop the twenty-meter-high castle walls, looking down.
Master Steward Hershel and Ser Pell stood behind him.
Once King Robert died, endless chaos and war would break out, so Whispers Castle had to be planned far in advance.
Gryn looked toward the south.
The terrain to the south was gentle and flat.
Designed for a population of ten thousand, they could first build the First Ring, then the Second Ring…
Gryn chuckled softly to himself.
Better not call it the First Ring—call it the Inner City.
“Take this down, Hershel.” “Fishing Village will henceforth be renamed Mermaid Harbor.” Master Steward Hershel faithfully recorded his words.
“A mermaid has the upper body of a maiden and the lower body of a fish tail.
A mermaid’s beauty would draw praise even from The Seven.” Hershel hesitated for a moment before asking, “My lord, isn’t such a description a bit offensive…
Some of the septons are already not very friendly toward us.” As an atheist, Gryn had originally intended to say that even The Seven would be utterly smitten, so these words were already toned down.
“Thank you for your advice, Hershel.” Gryn paused, then spoke again.
“Bards—go find some reliable bards and convey the general idea to them.
As for the wording, let them handle it.
They are the professionals.” “Hershel, keep writing.
Mermaids love to sing soul-stirring songs passed down through generations.
Mermaids are extremely shy; only in the dead of night, when no one is around, will they surface to sing.
Their enchanting voices sound like…
well, like heavenly music.” Gryn had originally wanted to say “kissed by The Seven,” but decided to exercise restraint once more.
“Mermaids are carefree, kind, and optimistic.
Only in moments of extreme sorrow or heartbreaking agony do they weep, and a mermaid’s tears transform into the most translucent pearls in the world—one tear, one pearl.” “A mermaid can love only one person in her lifetime.
When a mermaid falls truly in love, she will swear an oath of love.” “The oath of love…
Make sure you record this clearly.
It is very important.” “‘I will gladly become so-and-so’s beloved, to love what he loves, to think what he thinks, to bear his pain and endure hardship with him.
Be it in poverty or wealth, in lowliness or noble stature, whether in times of chaos or forsaken by the gods, I shall live for him and die for him, never to leave nor abandon him, unto eternity!'” Master Steward Hershel and Ser Pell both opened their mouths, their faces a tableau of emotion.
Gryn felt they had been moved and already believed it completely.
Could Fishing Village really be a legendary realm hidden from the world?
Seeing this, Gryn adjusted his original plan.
A secret known only to oneself was a true secret; he might as well hoodwink everyone together.
And so, Gryn pretended to believe in the legend of the mermaids as well.
Not to mention the most crucial point: mermaids were the shyest creatures in the world, so it was only natural if no one could find one.
Come, step into Mermaid Harbor, and go wild for the mermaids.
“This is a secret handed down orally from lord to lord of House Crabb across generations.
I am telling you now because the two of you are my most trusted men.” Hershel and Pere puffed out their chests.
Yes!
There were no men in this world more reliable than them!
“First, mobilize all the villagers of Fishing Village to construct a basic dock nearby.
Find a suitable location—it can be a bit further out, but the main priority is ensuring large ships can dock easily.” “Second step: build a lighthouse to guide passing ships to us.” “At the same time, we need taverns, inns, and merchant shops.
The initial standards don’t need to be high, but they must be fully functional.
We must earn every single Copper Star we can.” “The able-bodied villagers must be armed, while the elderly and weak can be given suitable work in the shops.
We must guarantee the safety of all friendly guests.” “Mermaid Harbor must grow more beautiful and comfortable with each passing day.
We cannot let down the guests who come seeking its legend.” “All of these steps are vital.” The Master Steward seemed to understand now.
“My lord, the longer the legend of the mermaid spreads and the wider it reaches, the more people will be drawn to Fishing…
Mermaid Harbor.
We can sell our leather directly to buyers without wandering merchants driving down our prices.
Not just leather, either…
Mermaid Harbor will become a trading hub!” “No wonder you are willing to let the legend of the mermaid spread…” “Indeed.
Rules are rigid, but for the development of our domain, necessary sacrifices are unavoidable for your lord.” “It must be spread quietly and naturally.
I leave this to you.” With that, Gryn turned his back, clasping his hands behind him, and let out a long sigh.
The hem of Gryn’s robe fluttered gently in the wind.
Hershel bowed deeply with utmost solemnity.
Wearing his plate armor, Ser Pell bowed alongside Hershel, veins bulging on the back of the hand resting on his sword hilt.