274 AC
Sea…
Boundless and beautiful…
Quiet and soft...
Wild and unyielding...
Iridescent with all shades of green and blue, it concealed hundreds of mysteries and thousands of secrets.
While I was in the Citadel, I read a lot of works on the geography and geodesy of Planetos. Some moments, such as flora and fauna, the line of development of society and religion, the formation of races, were very reminiscent of the Earth, albeit with their own nuances and features.
But there were also differences. For example, the locals have long been aware of the fact that their planet is round. This was proven back in the time of the Valyrian Freehold, when several dragonriders traveled east towards the golden empire of I-Ti and returned from the direction of Westeros. According to the book, which is a copy of the biography of one of the surviving discoverers, they had to fly above the clouds so as not to fall into the eternal storms that rage over the Sunset Sea all year round, and only two riders could survive that journey, whose names, unfortunately, have not been preserved.
The most amazing thing is that in this world there was a man, or rather a maester, who completely repeated the idea of Eratosthenes, completely measuring the circumference of the planet. For this, he had to swim and climb into the very depths of Sothoris, where, at the risk of dying from local animals and diseases, he found a place where there were no shadows at noon. After that, already in Valyria, then still existing and not fallen from Doom, he measured the angle of deviation of the sun's beam from one of the many obelisks and calculated the length of the local planetary meridian.
The result was startling. Especially me, who remembers the length of the Earth. 950,000 drakars, a local Valyrian measure of length, equal to the length of one medium dragon from the beginning of the muzzle to the tip of the tail. That's about 110 yards or a hundred meters. So this world turned out to be almost 95,000 kilometers long - more than twice the size of my native Earth.
"So it is quite possible that there is another civilization on the other side of the world, beyond the distant and boundless Sothoris. Unknown, with its gods, peoples and rulers. - I thought, standing on the bridge of the Black Panther and watching a small flock of leviathans swim past us. These local creatures, which are not inferior in size to adult blue whales, were peaceful inhabitants of the sea, as long as they were not touched. In Oldtown, I once happened to see the tooth of an adult leviathan, and its size was impressive. A yard and a half long and a floor thick. It immediately became clear why only the legendary krakens could hunt them. "Well, enough of those thoughts. I haven't seen everything in this part of the world. Don't rush into the unknown"
Our voyage was calm and almost without incident. The experience of Victarion and Hoare, who have been swimming in these waters since childhood and who know almost everything here: the main sea currents, the peculiarities of seasonal winds, the places of possible ambushes of the ironborn and the like, had an effect. Thanks to this, we were able to reach the Cape of the Sea Dragon in just twelve days of leisurely sailing, only occasionally calling at ports to replenish our water and provisions.
Wrapped in furs, prudently bought back in Flint Finger, I looked with great interest at this harsh and inhospitable, even by the standards of the North, region. Even from here, a few miles from the shore, one could see that the coastline of the cape was indented with hundreds of small bays and bays. According to Hoare, who has been here several times during the raids, there are no minerals here, and the land is too wet for growing grain. But here pine trees grow, suitable for the construction of ships, otters are found in the lakes, whose skins are very much appreciated in the east, and there are so many fish in the rivers that they cannot be caught in a century. And we must not forget about the countless colonies of seals and fur seals, which are a real marine treasure along with whales and sea cows.
According to the stories of the Ironborn who came under my wing with two captains, this cape, along with Kraken's Cape, has always been a desirable prey for the lords of the Iron Islands. But for hundreds of years, from generation to generation, the Starks, Flints, Glovers and Mormonts drove them out of these lands, preventing them from gaining a foothold here.
The most interesting thing is that the northerners themselves did not want to live here, leaving these places to stand idle and forget about the rare guests in the form of people. Not to me or to you, as they say. Although I understand them perfectly. I myself would not want a neighbor who only knows how to rob, kill and rape.
In the library, I found only a few books dedicated to these places. As if on the heights of the cape, circles of felled weirwoods were preserved, still remembering the Children of the Forest who lived here, and among the endless hills and swamps, the ruins of the strongholds of the first people are still found. According to legend, in ancient times, in the war for the Sea Dragon Cape, the Starks defeated the Were-King, who lived here and was able to control hundreds of animals, and his allies. After the capture of the last stronghold, all his sons were killed, and his daughters became the reward of the winners. In one of the books on the magic of the North, the theory was even put forward that it was because of these daughters that treeseers and werewolves still continue to be born in many northern houses.
Very soon, having rounded the cape and crossed Ice Bay, we will come to Bear Island, where I plan to take the first step towards my enrichment.
***
P.O.V. Jorah Mormont
This day was no different from hundreds of others in the North.
Wake up early in the morning, from the rising sun. Remove from under the side of the next little wife, who misses the male affection, while her husband is fishing somewhere in the waters of the bay. Then go to a family breakfast, where, under the disapproving look of the father, who is still faithful to the deceased mother, it is normal to eat.
Our house has always been not very rich, but not too poor, so we eat much better than many commoners. Boiled eggs, steamed turnips, fresh white bread, herb-baked salmon, and bear meat stew filled up as well as many delicacies from the South. And seeing how my father, Aunt Meige and little Daisy smiled, I understood that I was lucky to be born here - in a warm and big family, where everyone sincerely loves each other, and not in the accursed south, where, according to the stories of Maester Farlon, our countryman, many heirs lords kill their fathers, brothers and sisters, for the sake of obtaining the inheritance they so desire.
After the meal, my father again raised the issue of my marriage, and all I had to do was nod and agree, because nothing depended on me. Lisanna of the Glover house will most certainly be my bride. Our house has always needed good relations with the owners of the Wolf Forest, because it was from them that we received most of the food during the harsh winters, and she is only a few years younger than me. Rumor has it that the girl is pretty, but very painful. I don't know what will come of it.
After breakfast, I, along with my father and a small retinue, planned to make a detour of the coastal villages to make sure that everything was fine and no one would disturb us. Recently, at the Cape of the Sea Dragon, ships with sails very similar to ironborn were seen, and this is not good. In addition, we must not forget about the wildlings, who at any moment could swim across the Ice Strait and land on our shores. But all plans went down the drain when a rider galloped out of one of the observation towers built at the entrance to the bay, panting.
"Lord Jeor, Lord Jorah, three ships have entered the bay!" he hissed, almost falling off the horse, which looked like it was downtrodden, as did its rider.
- Who?! - The father almost yelled, grabbing the rider by the shoulders and keeping him from falling. Are they ironborn? Pirates? Merchants?
If the first two options, then everything is very bad. Now it is spawning and most of the men have gone hunting, and there are barely five thousand women who can hold weapons. With them and a hundred fighters, we will fight back, but the losses will be terrible.
- Get ready. – Judging by the look and the way he straightened the Long Claw, the father also understood how all this could turn out. "Gather all who can bear arms, young and old, and gather them in the harbor. If they really are Iron Island freaks, then we'll throw them into the sea!
- Yes! - The general roar of the combatants and all those present was so loud that it seemed to me as if the trees swayed from his strength.
Within half an hour everything was ready. In the harbor, which is two simple wooden piers, all the inhabitants of our castle, who could hold weapons, gathered. Armed with maces, swords, spears and bows, and dressed for the most part in boiled leather armor, the women and a few men were a formidable force. Standing nearby, in the front rows with my father, I once again saw this fanatical fire burning in their eyes.
"Oh, I don't envy those pirates." I thought, grabbing my sword more comfortably. "They don't know what the women of Bear Island are capable of."
Soon our "guests" appeared on the horizon. Many times I have seen barges sailing back and forth between our island and Mirkwood, and ironborn boats docking on our shores, but compared to the ships that appeared, they were wild freaks against the backdrop of the Valyrian beauty.
Beautiful, predatory and dangerous.
That was how these three xebecs could be described, if I remembered correctly the lessons of the maester, rushing at high speed to our shores. And if their crew even half matches their ships, then we have big problems. The white flags hoisted over the masts, signaling the peaceful intentions of their masters, did not give even a hint of safety.
Soon the first of them, with a grinning black cat depicted on sails and the same figure on the bow, approached the pier. Mooring commands were heard, given by a short man with short blond hair, who, apparently, was the captain or his assistant. Soon, a ladder was thrown off the side, stuck with iron hooks into the wooden flooring boards, along which ... a guy descended. A very big guy.
In appearance, a few years younger than me, he was as tall as the heir of the Umbers, who was already being called Big John behind his back. But only if most of the girls were ready to faint from fear from Amber's faces, then this could be attributed to those whom many called "beautiful". Without a beard, with a thick mane of black hair, with regular features and bright green eyes, the likes of which I only saw in Lannisters in Lannisport when I was there on business, he, in his simple gray armor, without silly southern tinsel and ornaments, with with a sword at his belt and a two-handed ax behind his back, he looked very much like a native of the North. Apparently, the others also noticed this, slightly loosening their grip on their weapons and slightly lowering their swords.
- Rodrik! - But his sharp cry and turning his head towards one of the sailors made many return to their lost vigilance. – You didn't tell me that the Northerners arrange "such" an interesting reception when they welcome guests! And you still wonder why many merchants don't swim here. - At this point, he pointed his finger in our direction and grinned cheerfully. - Knowing their "thin and vulnerable soul", which they hide under a layer of fat, even one local woman can scare them to shit.
Almost the entire ship, as well as the other two that had already docked, burst into wild laughter, appreciating the joke of their, apparently, leader. Even a few of our people could not stand it and laughed out loud, gradually infecting the others with this fun.
"Strongly". - I thought, like my father, putting the sword back into its sheath. – "One joke to remove tension. And he's not shy."
As soon as the laughter died down and all three ships were fully moored to the moorings, he finally spoke to us.
"Greetings to Lord Jeor Mormont. - He said with a serious expression and only slightly bowed. "My name is Felix and I have come to these beautiful lands for one purpose. Trade.
Judging by the slightly widened eyes of his father, he was very much surprised. Merchants are a rarity in our area. Not only does nothing grow here, there are no valuable ores or precious woods, the Iron Islands also block the way - a place where being a robber and a robber is in the order of things. And those that did come were mostly merchants from the Reach, the Riverlands, and the Westlands, bartering their grain for next to nothing for our skins and rare fish before the winters set in. So we didn't like them very much, but we understood that we wouldn't survive without imported food.
It was now a hard winter, in its second year. We still had supplies, but my father and I knew that if it lasted another year, many would begin to starve. So this "merchant" was now a welcome guest.
- I'm glad to see you on Bear Island, Felix. - His father turned to him, and when he came closer to him, he shook hands. Let me show you our hospitality. Come to my castle. There you will find bread, salt and a warm lunch.
Thank you, Lord Jeor. He replied politely, gesturing for several people to follow him. It turned out to be the same fair-haired captain, a red-haired guy, the same age as me and with a smile that never left his face, two muscular bald-headed men, a young guy with a bow on his back and a middle-aged man who had several carpentry tools hanging from his belt. Judging by their gait and posture, only the merchant and the captain were trained warriors. The rest walked too carelessly and did not have the physique necessary for battle.
"I'm starting to like this huckster already." - I thought, remembering past merchants who visited our island. Not only did the majority communicate with us as with barbarians and atheists, constantly insulting, demanding or threatening or looking like unreasonable animals, they also brought so many mercenaries with them and constantly took them with them, as if they were afraid that they would be killed or eaten in the nearest back street.
Therefore, I only hoped that everything would go well and that the visit of these merchants would end without problems for our house.
***
P.O.V. Felix
- So that's what it is - Northern hospitality. – I said, looking at the Great Hall of the Marmont mansion, while eating the offered onion soup. Almost all the men who are currently on the island and a few women from those who "met" us at the pier gathered here. Everyone drank, had fun and tried to talk those three dozen sailors whom I took with me from the ship. Yet for most northerners, during winter, the arrival of merchants was like a holiday.
It cannot be said that Bear Island made an impression on me. After Earth, and Lannisport, Highgarden, and Oldtown, the local squat settlements, built of wood, straw, and who knows what, looked rather shabby. But all these impressions were corrected by nature. Looking at the endless virgin forests of the island, where most of the game came out and looked at us in amazement, I wondered how the locals could live in such harmony with this inhospitable North.
The nature here was very beautiful. White fluffy snow lying all year round, the sky of all shades of white, gray and blue, with the sun occasionally appearing. Often, during the voyage, bullfinches flew into my cabin, diluting the dark colors of the ship with their red breasts, and I generally keep quiet about the bears roaming in plain sight, not far from the Mormont castle. And the locals are in no hurry to touch this idyll and support it in every possible way.
I learned this moment by accident and only now I was able to see it with my own eyes. If in the Western lands and the Reach there are no wild forests and fields left for a long time, with the exception of iconic places that were created by Garth Gardener himself and Lann the Clever, then the northerners did not touch nature at all.
Communicating with Jeor, a strong and powerful man who fully justifies his nickname - the Old Bear, and his heir Jorah, who was a younger and taller copy of his father, I learned that this is part of the cult of the Old Gods. It turned out that in addition to rare prayers and weddings, these tree gods also require respect for nature. For example, all the wood from which the locals build their houses, sell to merchants and heat stoves, is very old. These trees have already grown old and after a few decades began to smolder and die. And after they are cut down, a new seedling is planted in place so that it takes the place of its predecessor in the forest.
The same was true for game. The northerners were very restrained here too, and during the hunt they drove not the "best" prey, but the most prolific one. A sort of human orderlies of the forest.
"But the locals never had problems with wood and meat." I thought, drinking ale and honey over a freshly served pork and vegetable pie. "Though it's not surprising. If my memory serves me right, after the Great Census of Land and People under King Jaehaerys the Peacemaker, it turned out that the North was larger in size than the other six kingdoms combined, and inferior in population to all except Dorne and the Iron Islands.
After lunch, which lasted almost three hours, I was taken to the castle solarium, where Lord Jeor, who had left a little earlier, was already sitting, along with the castle master, and was waiting only for me.
- I am very pleased to see such a young merchant as my guest. - Mormont began the conversation, stroking his beard, which had already begun to turn gray. - Let's get down to business. What brings you to my island? And do not lie that for the sake of trade. My lands are poor, and there is little gold in the treasury. We have nothing to give you. Why did you come here?
- For trade. - I said and smiled, but noticing the frown on the face of the old bear, I hurried to continue. - It's true. Coming here, I hoped to exchange furs, furs and skins of animals that lived here.
Judging by the face of the Lord of Bear Island, my words angered him even more.
- Don't take me for a fool! - He boomed, tightly squeezing his horn glass. "What a fool would lead three expensive ships in the winter!" past the Iron Islands! for the sake of several dozen skins, worth six hundred or seven hundred deer!? So don't build an idiot in front of me!
Only after waiting until Mormont calmed down and ceased to resemble fresh beets in color, I was able to continue the conversation.
- Lord Mormont, I did not come for the sake of "a few dozen skins." I need all the bear skins you can give me. - From such words, his eyes, like those of the maister sitting in the corner, almost crawled out of their sockets.
- Why do you need so many? My castle alone has several hundred good quality bear skins. Even if you sell them in the south, in the Reach or Dorne, you won't be able to sell them all.
- Why did you decide so? I asked quietly, even though I knew the answer perfectly well. He needs to come up with the correct answer.
- Those few who were here before you bought them just for sale there. According to them, the southern lords have always been greedy for curiosities. Having said this, Mormont fell silent, apparently waiting for me to continue.
"No, think for yourself"
"But there are lands far richer than the Reach and Dorne. – At the puzzled look of the lord, I only sighed heavily. It seems that the history and geography of Westeros and Essos are hammered into the head of all noble people from childhood, so that they know at least something about places outside their possessions. And most of them, after a few years, they simply completely forget it, as unnecessary and unused. I even felt sorry for the local maester, who taught Jior in the past and probably put a lot of effort into this. You'll have to tell yourself.
"Lord Mormont, you probably know that rich Free Cities lie in the East. Their power and wealth rival many kingdoms, and some, such as Volantis and Braavos, rival the royal treasury or the Lannisters in terms of gold. – Judging by his concentrated face, he still remembers something. – Are you familiar with the principles of power formation in these cities?
My question was followed by a negative shake of the head.
- The answer is simple. Wealth. The Archons of Tyrosh, the Masters of the World, Lys, Penthos, the Princes of Lorath, the Sealords of Braavos, and the Triarchs of Volantis hold power in their hands with their wealth. - Conspiratorially, like the greatest secret in the world, I said. - And the easiest way for them to show the depth of their wallets and connections is luxury. Expensive clothes, silks, rare wines, gold and silver jewelry, beautiful slave girls and... exotic animals.
Seeing Mormont's widening eyes once again, it became clear that he understood the hint.
- Imagine how much the same triarchs of Volantis will pay, on the eve of the elections, for the skins of huge and terrible animals, which they only heard about in fairy tales and read in books? - Judging by the actively rubbing palms and a little shifty look, the lord's fantasy worked well.
In a normal situation, he would have remained impartial and listened to me in a matter-of-fact manner without changing his face. But now is Winter, which will end no one knows when. He urgently needs food to feed his people and not starve himself. So after a couple of seconds, he pulled himself together and stared sullenly at me.
- Why are you telling me this? he asked with a slight chill, folding his hands under his chin. - About all this. Ordinary merchants, on the contrary, keep everything a secret, where and why they are taking their goods, so as not to produce competitors and the rest do not understand what benefit they will get from this. Now I can safely raise prices or demand half the profits without refusal from your side. You've come too far to just float away. So why are you telling me all this?
"Well done. I figured it out myself."
- Because of three things. - I said, exactly repeating the pose of Mormont and starting to speak in his tone and intonation. Another little trick that makes the interlocutor listen to you and inspires a little intuitive trust. First of all, you won't. The northerners are people of honor and will never, like the southerners, play up or raise prices for the sake of a few pieces of silver. At this moment, against his will, the Old Bear smiled contentedly, fully acknowledging my words. - Secondly, I have 300 bushels of wheat, 50 barrels of corned beef and 20 barrels of wine on my ships. This is enough for you to live for almost a year and a half, without outside help. And the winter will be long. I was in Oldtown recently, and Archmaester Walgrave only spoke of shortening the days, not lengthening them. – At this point, I turned towards the maester, who was attentively listening to our conversation, discreetly writing down something. "You can send him a raven if in doubt.
The maester merely nodded at the address, making a few notes on his scroll.
- And finally, the third, most important reason. I need your full cooperation in one matter. - After my words, Mormont crept up, preparing to listen carefully to me. - All exotic animals have always been evaluated according to two criteria - their beauty and the danger they represent. The bear is a beast, though beautiful, but first of all dangerous. And I need to show it. And for this we need your help.
- Which? The interested northern lord leaned forward.
"All. Now he certainly won't refuse me."
- I need a live wild bear, and the meaner and stronger, the better.