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Ned admired Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort.
The boy was excellent with sword and horse, well-versed in history and music, and had every chance of becoming a fine warrior, even a commander.
Taking Domeric as a foster son was also a punishment for Lady Barbrey.
At Rickon’s nameday feast, before so many nobles of the North, she had treated Ned and Catelyn with sharp, perfunctory courtesy.
If Ned let that pass without consequence, other bannermen would wonder whether their liege lord was weak, and some would learn the wrong lesson from her example.
A liege lord had to hold the lords beneath him in check.
Otherwise, trouble followed.
Domeric was the grandson of Lord Ryswell of the Rills, the son of Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, and the nephew of Lady Barbrey Dustin of Barrowton.
He was the key link binding those three northern powers together.
Each of those houses had deep roots.
House Ryswell of the Rills was an important force against ironborn raids and one of the North’s great sources of warhorses.
Barrowton lay on the broad northern plains, the first real shield north of Moat Cailin.
House Bolton was stronger still, the greatest power on the North’s eastern coast.
In the old days, to make sure the Dreadfort stayed loyal, Winterfell had sent Karlon Stark east to build the fortress that became Karhold, the seat of House Karstark.
Karhold stood northeast of the Dreadfort, with Winterfell to the southwest, hemming the Boltons in between.
Marriage alliances among bannermen were common enough.
In peace, perhaps they mattered little.
But once war came, and Winterfell called for men and coin, who could guarantee that allied houses would obey without delay?
Who could guarantee they would not make bargains beyond the North?
Keeping Domeric at Winterfell as a foster son would strengthen Ned’s ties to the Dreadfort, the Rills, and Barrowton.
If need demanded it, the boy would also be a hostage.
Lady Barbrey had still been basking in the sweetness of Domeric’s victory in the yard.
In an instant, that sweetness turned to ash.
“Lord Eddard, Domeric is my page. My halls are lonely enough as they are. You cannot keep him at Winterfell.”
Ned said, “Lady Barbrey, I understand your loneliness. Winterfell would welcome you if you chose to live here. Stay as long as you like.”
“But I have lands to govern. I cannot remain at Winterfell.”
Ned answered patiently.
“Domeric has always wished for brothers and sisters. My house has children enough. If he grows up in Winterfell’s halls with Robb, Bran, Sansa, Arya, Jon, and Theon, friendship can grow between them.”
“He served as a page in the distant Vale for three years. What is there to fear in his staying at Winterfell? He will come to love this place. The library tower has more books than he could read in years, there are companions of his own age, and in time he can help me expand Winter Town. I promise you, I will take good care of him.”
Lord Ryswell tried to soothe Barbrey.
“Daughter, Lord Eddard taking Domeric as a foster son is an honor for us. Letting him grow beside the heir to the North and the children of House Stark, becoming close friends with them, is a good thing.”
Domeric held Barbrey’s hand.
“Aunt, if I stay here, I will write to you often. I will come back to Barrowton to visit you whenever I can.”
Lady Barbrey stroked Domeric’s hair, gave him a few quiet instructions, and turned away.
The children of Winterfell were thrilled by Domeric’s place among them.
Robb, Theon, and Jon began plotting how to beat him in the yard.
Bran wanted to learn riding from him.
Arya clamored for sword lessons.
Sansa hoped to hear Domeric’s songs every day.
The next day, the nobles of the North took their leave of Ned one after another and returned to their lands.
Once they reached home, watchtowers, saltworks, and beehives would begin rising along the northern coasts.
It was said that before Roose Bolton departed, he quarreled with Lady Barbrey.
Tomard, a guard of Winterfell, left with the hundred men recruited from Winter Town, traveling with Benjen Stark and Lord Commander Mormont.
They would go to the abandoned holdfast at Queenscrown in the New Gift, clear farmland, establish a military settlement, and help the Night’s Watch resist wildling raids.
Rickon’s nameday feast had cost Winterfell some coin, but the grain, corn, fruit, warhorses, cattle, and sheep brought as tribute by the nobles had replenished the castle as well.
The people of Winter Town began hauling timber from the wolfswood, and some houses broke ground.
A simple wooden cottage could be finished in a few days.
But Ned’s plan held larger works.
In the solar, Ned summoned Maester Luwin and spread his hand-drawn plan across the floor.
In Ned’s design, the future barracks would stand south of Winterfell.
Stables would rise to the north.
To the east would be the forges and the great market.
To the west, a line of storehouses and workshops.
Maester Luwin frowned. The source of this chapter is g.com.
“My lord, these are all large works. Do we truly need so many buildings? If they are all built of stone, the cost will be very high.”
Ned said, “The investment at the beginning is necessary. When winter comes, no amount of coin will let us expand the town.”
Luwin considered that for a long moment.
“Even if cost is no object, we do not have enough masons and carpenters. If we were only putting up wooden houses, the people already in Winter Town would be enough. But these projects together would take the labor of several castles. Where are we to find so many masons and carpenters?”
Ned said, “At the lords’ council, I already asked my bannermen to search for craftsmen and send them to Winter Town. I am still afraid it will not be enough. I want you to send ravens to King’s Landing at once, one to King Robert and one to the Hand, Jon Arryn. Ask them to help us find craftsmen.”
“Blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, leatherworkers. I want them all.”
Jon Arryn was Warden of the East and Lord of the Eyrie, and his lands lacked for neither rock nor stone.
Ned had been fostered at the Eyrie as a boy.
The castle stood atop its sheer mountain like a spear thrust into the blue sky, and standing there had made Ned feel the awe of the clouds.
The Vale was rich in stone.
Its quarries were an important trade, selling throughout the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities, and its masons were formidable craftsmen.
The Eyrie itself had been raised by such hands.
With Ned’s relationship to Robert and Jon Arryn, bringing in craftsmen should not be difficult.
Ned said, “In the future, the forgeworks will need a great many smiths. King’s Landing is the largest city in Westeros, with all sorts of artisans gathered there. The Street of Steel is full of smiths from every corner, and the armor and weapons it produces are of excellent quality. Ask King Robert and Jon Arryn to help me search there.”
Luwin nodded.
“My lord, if you need smiths, Lordsport on the Iron Islands may also be worth considering. Theon often boasts that ironborn metalworking is the best in the world. It is true that ironborn smiths have their strengths, though quality varies from island to island.”
“The best ironborn smiths gather at Lordsport. Why not have Theon write to his father Balon and ask for a few?”
During Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion, Ned had personally learned how sharp ironborn weapons could be.
Their shields, armor, and arms were plain, but they were stronger than much of what the royal armies carried.
The ironborn had once conquered the riverlands from their poor, harsh islands, and more than once they had stirred up storms the royal fleet struggled to calm.
Their seamanship and fleets were one pillar of their strength, but so were their sharp axes, longswords, plate, and mail.
Many northern lords hated the ironborn and would reject the idea of hiring ironborn smiths out of hand.
Ned would not be so narrow.
“Very well. Let Theon write to Balon and recruit ironborn smiths. And while we are asking, tell him to look for a few ironborn shipwrights as well.”
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