Chapter 12: Financial Strain

"My Lord, if things continue like this, our winter stores will be exhausted."

Vayon Poole, the steward of Winterfell, complained to Eddard while holding a thick ledger.

Over the past few days, Eddard had truly come to understand the saying, "One does not know the price of fuel and rice until one manages a household."

Winter Town initially had only five thousand residents, but with the successive influx of over twenty thousand people, it had now reached a scale of more than thirty thousand; because the houses were sold out, many residents were temporarily housed in tents outside Winterfell.

At the beginning, prices in Winter Town were stable; after all, the North had just completed a harvest, and many residents arrived in Winter Town with carts full of corn and grain.

But soon, food prices began to rise.

Many of the farmers who came to settle in Winter Town brought grain in horse-drawn or ox-drawn carts, but many of those from the mountain clans were herdsmen. Arable land was scarce in the mountain clans, and most residents made a living by herding sheep; many arrived in Winter Town driving their flocks.

There were also residents from far away who chose to sell their accumulated grain before coming to Winter Town, arriving with money; even if they were allocated land and finished sowing, the harvest would not come for several months.

With so many people needing to eat, the food that the lords had presented to Winterfell at Rickon's birthday banquet, which Eddard had brought out, was sold out in a single day.

Eddard requested Lord Wyman of White Harbor to increase the supply of grain to Winter Town; the food supplies sent upstream from the White Knife were indeed sufficient, but the prices were much higher, and many residents began to complain about the rising costs. Some began to calculate whether Winter Town was truly suitable for long-term living, and some residents from places closer to Winterfell, such as Cerwyn or Torrhen's Square, packed their belongings and left Winter Town to return home.

When Winter Town became overcrowded, public security became a major problem; Jory Cassel, the Captain of the Guard of Winterfell, was responsible for the security of Winter Town, and even with the guard expanded to 500 men, maintaining order remained a struggle.

Brawls were a common occurrence. There were always people fighting in gambling dens, brothels, and taverns. A few days ago, herdsmen from the Norrey clan of the mountain clans got into a fight with some of the original residents of Winter Town.

The cause was the herdsmen grazing their sheep on the original residents' farmland, destroying the newly sprouted crops.

In previous winters, when the mountain clan residents came to Winter Town, they would not bring goats, but now it was summer, and many mountain herdsmen draped in animal skins arrived driving their flocks; when the original residents of Winter Town discovered their fields were destroyed, the two sides began to fight.

Fortunately, those involved in these brawls only suffered minor injuries. Eddard required the herdsmen to compensate the farmers with a few sheep, and the farmers to compensate the herdsmen with a bag of corn, and the matter was considered settled.

Thieves were caught almost every day, and poachers in the Wolfswood had clearly increased. Eddard had promised that during the harvest season, the residents of Winter Town could hunt legally, but now that much of the land had not yet been cleared, these people...

The Old Bear, Mormont of the Night's Watch, was perhaps the only one satisfied with the decline in security in Winter Town; those among this scum who had committed more serious crimes were sent to The Wall. Others were sent to the military colonies in the Gift.

Winterfell had already begun cooperating with the Night's Watch to develop the abandoned land in the Gift; the first military colony was overseen by the Winterfell guard Tomard and was located at Queenscrown. According to the letter Tomard sent back to Winterfell, they had already cleared more than ten acres of land, planted corn, and built beehives; every household in the military colony kept dogs, ready at any time to deal with Wildling Raiders.

A few days ago, a large fire in the tent area nearly spread to the gates of Winterfell and the bustling district of Winter Town, but fortunately, it was extinguished in time.

The progress of the Winter Town settlement project was gratifying; people cut wood from the Wolfswood and transported it to Winter Town to build log cabins at a fast pace, but the price Eddard had originally set—100 Copper Pennies for a house that could accommodate a family and an acre of land—was far below the market price; every time a log cabin was built, a sum of money vanished from the Winterfell treasury.

Many people suggested raising the price of houses and land, but Eddard refused. These people were attracted to Winter Town by Eddard's preferential policies, and raising prices would only break faith with the people.

In the study, Vayon Poole stood before Eddard, pointing at the ledger with his finger.

"Many residents of Winter Town have already eaten through their supplies. Following your orders, My Lord, I transferred three carts of dried frozen meat, five carts of corn, and one cart of ale from the Winterfell winter stores yesterday, and they were sold out before dark. We have earned a lot of money, but this money cannot be saved at all, because the guard, building houses, beehives, salt pans, military colonies, and purchasing supplies—every single thing costs money, and in the end, we still have to pay out of pocket."

Eddard said, "I have already sent men to the Dreadfort, Barrowton, and Karhold to purchase grain, and the grain from White Harbor is being transported from the south in a constant stream. It is summer now, and our vassals all say that the grain reserves in their respective regions are sufficient."

Vayon Poole sighed, "My Lord, have you forgotten the words of House Stark? Winter is Coming! This summer has already lasted for six years, but who knows when it will end? Maester Luwin says that even the Citadel cannot accurately predict the changes in seasons. If the autumn winds suddenly rise and blizzards rage, our crops freeze in the deep snow, and the snow blocks the mountains and freezes the earth, what shall we do?"

Eddard laughed, "Then Winter Town will be just the place to avoid the winter."

Vayon Poole closed the ledger, "I hear that a large number of craftsmen are rushing in from all over; must you really wait until we have spent the last Gold Dragon in Winterfell before you stop, My Lord? These people outside Winterfell are nothing but useless mouths; they will eat everything around them sooner or later."

Eddard said calmly, "We need patience; we must tighten our belts to get through this period."

Vayon Poole said dryly, "I hope it is as you wish, My Lord. I am the steward of Winterfell, not the steward of Winter Town; I truly cannot hold on any longer. Didn't you say you were going to hire a..."

Eddard patted Vayon Poole on the shoulder, "You have worked hard. Lord Wyman sent a Raven; the financial steward he hired for me from Braavos has already arrived at White Harbor, and I believe he will reach Winterfell in a few days. At that time, the Braavosi steward will take charge of the finances of Winter Town, and you can focus on the affairs of Winterfell."

Since Eddard planned to build Winter Town into a city, he had to find a professional to manage the finances. Vayon Poole was conscientious as a steward, but he was relatively inexperienced in matters such as tax rates, prices, lending and borrowing, and investment appreciation.

Lord Wyman recommended a Braavosi named Lanny; he was a former employee of the Iron Bank and had also worked in a Tyroshi Trading Company, so he was very experienced.

After Vayon Poole left the bill behind, Eddard frowned as he looked at the massive expenditures.

Once the money in Winterfell was spent, what should he do? Raise tax rates? If he did that, both vassals and subjects would complain, and relying solely on tax increases would not solve the problem.

Borrowing from the Braavos Iron Bank was an option, but the debt would place a heavy burden on Winterfell, and once unable to repay, the saying "The Iron Bank will have its due" was not just a joke.

Any kingdom that dared to default on the Iron Bank's money would find the Iron Bank spending money to incite rebellion within that kingdom; the royal family would face a constant stream of rebels and be exhausted from dealing with them. Moreover, Eddard was only a Duke in the North, not even royalty.

Catelyn walked in, holding Rickon.

"What are you busy with?"

Eddard put down the ledger in frustration, "Still worrying about money. Sometimes I wonder why there are no gold mines in my fief. The Lannister seat is built on a mountain of gold, while we in the North work hard to farm, herd sheep, raise cattle, and breed horses, yet the money we earn is too little."

Catelyn smiled, "The world has always been this way. I warned you long ago that expanding Winter Town, the salt pans, and the military colonies would make us spend more than we earn. What do you intend to do?"

Eddard said, "The plan must be carried out; if it comes to it, we will borrow money to get by."

Catelyn said, "If you are going to borrow money, you can go to Littlefinger. Don't forget, Petyr Baelish is my father's ward, and he is now the Master of Coin; borrowing money from him is the right choice. If I ask him, he will not refuse."

Eddard gave a light snort, "I am curious how Robert's court can still lend money out; Robert loves Tourneys, fine wine, and beautiful women, and rumors have it that the royal family is in a state of long-term debt. I will not borrow money from Littlefinger; if I truly need to ask the royal family, I will go directly to Robert."

Catelyn was relentless, "Asking Littlefinger does not necessarily mean borrowing from the royal family. Littlefinger is the Master of Coin; he knows many channels for loans. Through Littlefinger, we could borrow money from the Tyroshi Trading Company, banks in Myr, or the Braavos Iron Bank."

"I can contact these companies directly; why would I need Littlefinger as a middleman?" At the mere mention of Littlefinger, Eddard felt nothing but disgust.

(End of chapter)