Ch 19 It doesn't SHIT! Part 2

After observing the commotion for a few more moments, Sam decided to move away from the crowd and continue on his journey. He had seen this kind of marketing ploy more times than he could count and knew that it was all staged. In fact, he knew that it was a marketing idea sent by Jon himself. But there was no denying that it was working wonders for the sales of Starkhorses.

The person who had posed the question was actually a worker under their employ, so there was little to no cost involved in the promotion. The concept was simply brilliant and played on the psychology of people, boosting sales by more than three times.

Every few days when the sales hit a plateau in an area, they would move to another part of town and start anew, with a different worker, asking similar questions, maybe they will change the order now and then to keep things interesting.

Jon had estimated that it would take approximately two years to reach most of the city's population that could afford a Starkhorse. However, with the way demand was increasing day by day, Sam was confident that they would meet the city's demand a lot sooner than anticipated.

After which they would start looking for markets in other cities in Westeros and maybe even in Essos. But at the moment they were not letting even a single Starkhorse move out of the city as much as they could, even though a lot of merchants had come to them with great offers after seeing the potential it had.

But Jon didn't want to move out of North before they completed White Harbor's demand completely and another thing was that every new batch of Starkhorse had one or two improvements that made it better. So he wanted to make sure that they were safe and perfect during what he called a "Trial Run" since if any problem arises in the North it could be solved easily with the Stark name which would be hard to do somewhere else.

Of all the sales that happened, Sam knew that the Manderlys took about 20% of the profit. And this generous amount was due to Lord Stark being the one who was negotiating on behalf of Jon, for if he himself had done it, things would have gone a lot differently. Because he understood that for the likes of Lord Manderly, doing a favor to their liege lord was a lot more valuable to them than anything he could earn from this.

And the Manderlys provide many things in return for their cut of profit things like protection, a warehouse to store their products, and the like. While all the people working had been hired by Sam on Jon's behalf the warehouses on the other hand a place to dock, as well as ships that ferry their product from Winterfell to Whiteharbour, were provided by the Manderlys.

Sam arrived at the inner port where the eastern shore of the river White Knife ended, to find three ships filled to the brim with a new shipment of Starkhorses. They had been transported straight out of the Factory on the bank of the other end of White knife near Winterfell.

He hastened to the pier, relieved to find the unloading process already underway. As he had anticipated, the number of Starkhorses was greater than the last shipment.

At the start when the sales took off and the stock in Whiteharbor started to empty a lot faster than Sam anticipated, he was a bit worried that the supply would not be able to keep up with the demand.

But it seemed that Jon had taken that into account too because slowly but surely he was upping the pace at which he produced Starkhorse and Sam even heard that Jon was already planning a new factory just beside the old one.

Sam diligently worked from morning till noon, overseeing the stocktaking and ensuring the workers weren't slacking off and that no one was trying to do anything sneaky. The process was completed without any hiccups, and the new stock was safely deposited in the Warehouse. Sam's stomach growled with hunger as he hurriedly made his way back home.

He relished his meal heartily, savoring the satisfaction of eating well after a few hours of hard work. As he finished his lunch and got ready to head back to work, a teenage boy suddenly appeared, sprinting towards him at full speed. Sam halted in his tracks, recognizing the boy.

"Mr. Sam," the teen panted, coming to a stop in front of him, "The first mate is calling for you urgently,"

"Why? What's happened?" Sam asked with a hint of concern in his voice as he hurried towards the outer port, where his son's ship was likely still docked.

"I don't know," replied the teen, his pace quickening to keep up with Sam's.

As they arrived at the bustling port, the noise of ships unloading and loading goods filled their ears. Pushing their way through the throng of people, they finally reached their destination ship, where Rogar was impatiently waiting for his father.

"Rogar," Sam said, "What happened? Your aide said that it was urgent?"

"Father, do you remember when you told me to keep an eye out for anyone selling ships?" Rogar asked, a smile spreading across his face.

"Yes, I do," Sam said with anticipation, "Why? Did you find a good deal?"

"Yes, I did," Rogar nodded happily, "Do you remember Ron, the wealthy merchant from King's Landing?"

"Yes, the one who used to trade in fruits and olives,"

"His fleet was struck by a severe storm," Rogar explained with animated gestures. "He lost a significant amount of cargo and a few ships. As a result, he needs to sell three ships he can't afford to keep right now to raise cash."

"Really," Sam said, his excitement building.

"Yes, I think he will be willing to sell them at a huge loss if you were able to pay him upfront," Rogar said before he asked worriedly, "Would you be able to procure that kind of gold in time,"

"Oh Don't worry about that," Sam waved his son's worries away with a smile, "I have been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time. Before that, Did you see the condition of those ships? Are they in good condition?"

This was another crucial task Jon had asked him to do, he wanted him to acquire affordable ships and assemble a fleet of at least five fully crewed vessels with trustworthy sailors over the next two years. So that when they eventually started shipping to other cities, they didn't have to look for other merchants and could have a Shipping company of their own.

"Yes, I looked through all three ships closely before calling for you," Rogar nodded seriously, "All three were barely damaged in the storm and would be good as new after a few repairs,"

As they walked towards the merchant's home to negotiate the ship's price, they discussed a few more things. However, Sam noticed a frown on his son's face and asked, "Is something bothering you, son?"

Rogar hesitated before replying, "It's nothing serious. It's just that I have a couple of friends who used to work as crew members on those ships. Now that the ships are being sold, they'll be out of work. They have families to support, and I'm worried about them."

Rogar sighed and shook his head. "They're good northerners, and they'll have a hard time finding work. They'll probably have to start from scratch somewhere else and be paid far less than what they were earning before."

Sam's face lit up with realization. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? That's not a problem at all. In fact, it's good news. I was worried about the time it would take to hire a completely new crew for the ships, but now we can just hire them."

"Are you sure about that?" Rogar asked.

"Absolutely," Sam replied confidently. "We can hire as many of the previous crew members as want to stay on board. It's a win-win situation."

He was excited at getting one pleasing news after another and knew that when Frost arrived next week with Jon's letter he would be writing a good long reply filled with the good news that would be sure to get his spirits high.