Chapter 51: Interlude: Seven
Twenty-second day, Eleventh Moon, 250 AC (+25 days from last chapter)
"I still question the wisdom of this, my lord," Maester Erwyn said, in his thin, reedy voice, as they watched the large party leave through the gates of Winterfell.
"Oh? Are you still not the slightest bit impressed with the man?" Edwyle asked.
"He was quite smart for someone not formally educated," the Maester conceded. "My biggest issue is the financial cost of this endeavor."
"It was a large cost," he conceded, "But it is not ruinous. The relief from King Aegon back in 236AC was a large help, and we had some of that coin still left. The rest was just savings for emergency use. As long as we are not called to war in the next few years, we will be fine."
The last war had been when Redbeard had come south of the Wall, and his father had ridden out to meet them in the field of battle. The Fourth Blackfyre Rebellion had never touched the North; so most of Edwyle's reign since had been peaceful – barring that one dreadful winter.
"But with so little oversight? To one of the smallfolk?" Erwyn said, as his hands fretted about.
"He is different, yes, but I believe that is for the better. It is a risk, but clearly, he has made his immediate area more profitable. He has strengthened his surroundings, and I wish to see that made bigger. All men have power over their own mind – but few can control outside events. This is something I have realized over the past few weeks, and it has strengthened my conviction. Master Ragnar is one of these few, these proud men, who can make such changes." He gave a small smile as he watched the procession below slowly make their way out of sight. "Regardless, the land is of little use and has long lain idle. I will be questioned by the other Lords to be sure, but they will not begrudge me this."
Erwyn nodded in agreement. Erwyn had always leaned to the Andal-side of the feudal structure, rather than the way of the First Men. In truth, they were not so different, but the outright unquestioning atmosphere of the south was not present in the North. We Northerners did not shy away from confrontation, which had always made Erwyn uncomfortable; the Andals liked their confrontation indirect and wrapped in layers – like a man protecting himself from the cold winds of winter.
They stood for a while longer, as the procession was finally out of sight, and the life around the castle started to take its normal shape once again. He spoke up once again, "It is a gamble. A one thousand gold dragon gamble. Other than the coin, and maybe some respect, I lose nothing. But if I am right about this man, the North stands to gain everything. I will send Rodrick next summer to keep an eye on them, and Donovar is loyal. I will sit back and watch and try not to interfere."
"Just try?"
He gave a wry smile. "I make no promises. Something tells me I may have to sooth some ruffled feathers from the Lords that Master Ragnar interacts with. At least at first."
Erwyn nodded at that. "His etiquette does indeed need much work. He sprints from overly formal to informal in a heartbeat, all while still attempting to be polite. It is quite vexing."
He gave a small smile at that. "If he hadn't been polite, things may have ended differently. The man tries and is willing to reflect upon his actions."
Erwyn tutted. "His character is still lacking, though his actions give him credit."
"I disagree. I believe he will accomplish many great things, and I intend to benefit from them. Great things are not achieved by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity, but by reflection, force of character and judgement. Michael has shown to be capable of reflection, he may not have the greatest of character, but it does not waver – and he will learn besides, and he has shown to have good judgement. That is all I will say on the matter."
As they began to walk back into the castle, Erwyn spoke once again. "Lowering the risk of the venture, I feel, still would have been wise."
Edwyle rolled his eyes, for Erwyn had been against this plan from the start. He had a great amount of respect for the man – having known him since he was a child, but the constant warnings and discussion on this topic had started to grate on him. At least his son, Rickard, was interested in what he was doing – though that was mostly due to the admiration most children held towards their parents. He replied, "Yes, so you have said – repeatedly. I could have given Donovar half the territory, or even expanded my current vassals land and reduced the land given to Master Ragnar. At the end of the day, the decision is either a good one or a poor one. In other words, I should have made the decision or not. Attempting to make half a decision is poor leadership, and such an action is unbecoming of the House of Stark. Either I make the decision because it is a good one, or I do not because it is foolish."
As they entered into his solar, they found Jeor, the Castellan, waiting on them.
Jeor spoke first and briefly bowed his head to him. "Edwyle. They have left, and I have the final tally of the numbers of smallfolk who accompanied the newly ennobled men. 128 smallfolk from the immediate area have accompanied the party, with ten men-at-arms that you loaned House Ragnar, along with the Master Builder Jon. The 141 men and women have now left, and word is still spreading about the new Masterly house, so I expect a small portion of people to continue to migrate westwards."
"How far out has word spread?" asked Edwyle.
"By now, every lord with a Maester should have received their raven, so rumor is likely to have spread in the immediate vicinity. In this area, word has spread fairly quickly, though it will take a year or two for word to get to everyone."
He nodded, as it was about what he expected. When he had first thought of elevating Michael, he had done some research to determine if it was viable. He and Jeor had combed through their census data to determine how many people would actually move to this newly protected land and begin to populate it. They estimated around 300 to 800 people would move from his House's land over the next two years, based on their age and the composition of their family. Third and fourth sons, those that were disinherited, and other categories of people that would find the prospect of moving to be less daunting than those who were secure in their lives. It was harder to determine movements from other lands since Winterfell did not have such detailed census data. Our best guess was possibly another 100 to 200 from Master Glover and his bannermen, as well as internal movement from the Stoney Shore that would move to Sunset's Rest. There would also be some movement from other lands like the Ryswells or Dustins but in negligible numbers.
More may move in time, when -hopefully- Michael's tenure as Master of the Stoney Shore proves to be prosperous and entices movement among the smallfolk. There would never be massive migration, where whole families and villages move from coast to coast, but the 'unneeded' children in families may move once given the incentive, and they realize that their current location holds nothing for them.
He frowned for a minute, before speaking to Jeor. "Keep track of who is moving to Sunset's Rest. Perhaps send one of your cousins to work there and keep an eye on things. Mostly just general numbers, but I want to keep an eye out for entire families moving. If too many people move from another Lord's land, they will be displeased, and the larger the group, the more anger they will have. Ideally, I want only individuals or young couples moving there, but we have no way to force such a thing. But if I know of any issues forming, I can solve the issue before it becomes a problem."
Jeor bobbed his head. "Aye, I have a few cousins that could use the work and are reliable for such a thing."
"Good, I will leave the details to you. Now, let us raise our cups to this venture, and pray that the old gods bless us for our daring!"