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Maester Luwin sent letters to King’s Landing in Ned’s name, and both the Hand, Jon Arryn, and King Robert replied.
When Robert’s answer arrived, Ned had expected the words to be written by Grand Maester Pycelle.
Instead, Robert had written it himself.
In the letter, he praised Ned’s plan to expand Winter Town and hoped the new town would be “as mighty as Storm’s End and as noble as the Eyrie.” Clearly, Robert had not quite understood that Ned was building a town, not a castle.
Still, Robert generously promised to recruit one hundred blacksmiths or smiths’ apprentices for Ned from the stormlands, the crownlands, and King’s Landing.
Once the “splendid new town” was complete, Robert would bring the royal party north for his first royal progress.
Jon Arryn promised to recruit three hundred experienced masons from the Vale and send them to Winterfell.
In addition, he recommended an architect who had been lingering at Robert’s court, a man named Donnel Arryn.
In Jon Arryn’s letter, he mentioned that Donnel had once designed a luxurious estate for an Archon of Tyrosh.
After reaching King’s Landing, Donnel had repeatedly petitioned Robert, hoping to build “great works” to match King Robert’s “great reign.”
According to Donnel’s plans, Robert ought to build a new city a hundred miles south of King’s Landing to ease the capital’s crowds, restore the Dragonpit, rebuild Summerhall, and widen the kingsroad by one-third.
Robert, who loved grand things, had actually been tempted by these impractical schemes.
Jon Arryn feared that if Donnel remained at court, the royal treasury’s deficit would only grow worse.
So he simply recommended the architect to serve Lord Eddard at Winterfell instead.
Following Maester Luwin’s advice, Ned had Theon write to Balon Greyjoy, ruler of the Iron Islands, hoping to recruit ironborn smiths and ship designers.
Balon had not answered.
Now, along the western coast of the North, watchtowers had begun rising from Cape Kraken, the Stony Shore, Bear Island, the Saltspear, Flint’s Finger, and the Bay of Ice.
Garrison men in the saltworks guarded the shore while refining sea salt, and Ned believed raids along the west coast would decline considerably.
In Winterfell’s hall, Ned called Theon over.
“What exactly is wrong with your father? He still has not replied.”
Theon looked helpless.
“I imagine my father has heard that the North is building saltworks by the sea to resist raiders. He may not be happy. He may see it as a provocation.”
Ned laughed.
“I am building saltworks on northern land to defend against raiders. What sort of provocation is that?”
Theon said, “We ironborn often say that any land close enough to smell salt or hear the waves belongs to us. We yearn for the Old Way. When ironborn see watchtowers on the shore and cannot charge them, they naturally feel disappointed. My father may not accept reality.”
“Lord Eddard, I am wounded by it. You treat me like one of your own sons, yet my father refuses to answer Winterfell’s request. Does he truly not care whether I live or die? I am his only living son.”
Ned touched Theon’s hand, signaling that he should be at ease.
“I will not blame you over smiths or shipwrights. Do not fill your head with nonsense.”
Too many northerners hated the ironborn, and the ironborn had not forgotten that northern warriors helped King Robert crush their rebellion.
Ned’s only worry was whether the saltworks would provoke Balon.
After Balon bent the knee, he had sworn to Robert that he would restrain his ironborn and end the Old Way inside the Seven Kingdoms.
If ironborn wanted to raid, they could go to the Stepstones or far across the narrow sea.
Balon had even declared publicly that any ironborn who raided within the Seven Kingdoms and returned to the Iron Islands would be drowned.
Yet ironborn reavers still appeared throughout the Seven Kingdoms like poachers and smugglers, impossible to stamp out entirely, though their raids stayed small.
Common rumor said Balon took a share of what the raiders brought home and quietly indulged the ironborn.
Ned did not receive smiths or shipwrights from the Iron Islands.
Fortunately, his northern bannermen did not disappoint him.
Deepwood Motte sent twenty carpenters, and the Dreadfort sent thirty masons from the Lonely Hills.
Ever since Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort, had remained at Winterfell as Ned’s foster son, Roose Bolton had become noticeably more eager to follow Winterfell’s instructions.
In his letter to Winterfell, Roose wrote that the first watchtowers and salt fields on Dreadfort land were already under construction.
House Ryswell of the Rills sent three experienced veterinarians.
The Rills had always been one of the North’s important sources of warhorses.
They had skilled riders, but also many men who knew how to judge and raise horses.
The three veterinarians were particularly good at treating horses.
Ned placed them under Hullen, master of horse at Winterfell.
Winterfell’s stables had no shortage of stableboys, but far too few animal doctors.
The Greatjon Umber sent a fat man named Gaven.
Gaven had raised pigs for House Umber for twenty years and knew how to breed them, treat sickness, deliver piglets, and care for sows after birth.
Ned put him in charge of Winterfell’s pigsties.
Lady Barbrey sent thirty brickmakers.
Ned arranged for them to work with brickmakers recruited by Winterfell and build kilns south of the castle, preparing to produce bricks.
Ser Helman Tallhart of Torrhen’s Square dispatched fifty horsemen to help keep order in Winter Town.
Lord Cerwyn sent sixty laborers to help build houses.
Lord Hornwood sent a group of tailors.
Many residents of Winter Town could not buy needles and thread.
Ned placed the tailors under Septa Mordane and housed them in Winterfell, where they could help the smallfolk mend clothing and earn copper.
Among the men sent by Lord Wyman were blacksmiths, craftsmen, and carpenters.
Lord Wyman also sent a message with the grain convoy from White Harbor, informing Ned that he had already chosen a site for the shipyard.
The shipwright invited from Braavos had also arrived in White Harbor, and once the shipbuilders were in place, work could formally begin.
Ned walked to Winterfell’s forge.
Mikken was at the anvil.
Mikken was a tall man with silver hair and a powerful build, but beside Hodor he looked clearly smaller.
Hodor stood nearly seven feet tall. The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
Hodor was a stableboy, but in his free time he often came to the forge to help.
Carrying iron was hard labor, but not for Hodor.
He was so broad and strong that iron ingots looked like straw in his hands.
When Mikken saw Ned, he said, “Lord Eddard, people often say smithing is work for crude men and needs no brains. But look at Hodor, and you know how wrong that is. With his build, he is born for the forge. A pity his mind is no use. Otherwise, after all these years helping me, even the dullest apprentice would have mastered the work by now.”
Ned smiled.
“Hodor is a simple soul.”
Mikken set down his hammer.
“Lord Eddard, I hear you have recruited many smiths. Am I to lose my place? I had hoped with all my heart to serve Winterfell until the day I can no longer lift a hammer.”
Ned said, “You are my finest smith. I am recruiting others to prepare the forgeworks in Winter Town. When the time comes, we will make weapons and armor on a large scale. Those smiths will be under you, because I mean to put the forgeworks in your hands.”
Mikken grinned.
“That sounds fine enough. Are we truly going to war?”
“Winter is coming. We prepare early.”
When lords of the Seven Kingdoms marched to war, many of the men they called up were fishermen, farmers, and herders thrown together for the moment.
They brought their own equipment, and some even carried sickles and hammers as weapons.
For ordinary soldiers, leather armor was a luxury, to say nothing of mail or plate.
Armor and swords were expensive, but Winterfell had to store more of them.
When war came and men were mustered, such stores would be an advantage.
Mikken ran a hand over his hammer.
“I feel there will be no more war. Robert sits secure on the Iron Throne. These are peaceful days.”
Maester Luwin hurried over, holding a letter in his hand.
“Lord Eddard, our saltworks by the sea were attacked. More than twenty men are dead, and a watchtower was destroyed.”
Ned was startled.
“What? Are the ironborn on the west coast truly so bold? Damn those ironborn.”
Maester Luwin was short of breath.
“My lord, it was not the west coast. It was the Bay of Seals on the east coast, in Umber lands. The enemy were not ironborn. They were savages from Skagos, stoneborn.”
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