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Chapter 57: Chapter 41: The CalmChapter Text

"For every winter sent by the Stranger, the Mother would send a summer."

-The Seven-Pointed Star

110 AC, Skies above King's Landing

I never tired of flying. Every time I climbed atop Silverwing and rode her through the skies never stopped putting the wonder and exhilaration into my chest. Even flying long-distance, biting cold winds whipping at my skin, was never an unenjoyable experience.

Normally, when travelling, I'd hunker down in my skycart cabin, but today, on a whim, I decided to fly on dragonback for once. Allow Laena to have time off from her duty as my chauffeur.

I looked up at the sunny sky, brilliantly blue and warm. Spring was over. Summer had come.

That was another thing I could never get used to.

It was the Thirteenth Moon now. December on Earth. More or less.

It should have been the Christmas season. The arrival of winter as autumn waned. All around the world, temperatures fell as for one brief season, global warming was chased away by the arctic winds. Snow would be falling in many parts of the northern hemisphere. And in Singapore, rain would be falling non-stop as the northern winds arrived, cooling the normally tropical country down to bearable temperatures.

People would be fleeing indoors, to warm blankets, heaters and fireplaces. An army of fat man in fluffy red suits and long fake beards would assault every shopping center and street as carollers serenaded everyone. Parties would be in full swing as people celebrated the end of another year of hard work. Gifts and presents would be exchanged as treats and booze flowed freely.

Couples would be enjoying their lives to the fullest, the older generations smiling as they were surrounded by their many descendants while the younger generations found themselves tugged in the direction of the bedroom by their significant other seeking warmth.

Unsurprisingly, December was the month where the most children were conceived.

Regardless, by any common sense, December was a month of winter.

And now, December was here, and with it came summer, as the seasons of this world were messed up.

Half my paternal family were Australians, so I understood how summer was in December for them, but this world was different. The way entire years could pass as a season was just ridiculous to me. It made no sense. At all.

Okay, so I could maybe buy how humans survived years of winter, but how did everything else? Animals couldn't hibernate for two or three years straight. And I don't think non-evergreen plants could survive that long either. I get that life always finds a way, but this was just pushing it.

My thoughts were brought to an end as King's Landing finally entered my sight, that rough square of red sandstone around three hills that was our capital. The first expansions of the city were already progressing, as I'd given the order as soon as Lord Corlys had informed me via glass candle of the coin we'd earned in Pentos.

Master of Engineering Mellos had been busy. Spreading out like a great spiderweb, on both banks of the Blackwater Rush, new roads were being set down and paved. With all the quarrying we'd been doing to feed the stone demands of my projects, this meant that we had a massive surplus of cobblestones, alongside gravel and sand to pack them in. Between the roads were the buildings, or more specifically, the promise of buildings.

Pickets had been set down, denoting what would be built where. It would take years before construction of all of them was complete, but already a few structures had been raised. Mostly the Industrial District, as they'd be useful for the construction endeavours around the capital.

First and foremost, the Foundry of King's Landing was nearing completion, modelled on a Qohorik crucible foundry based on input from the Qohorik blacksmiths Lord Baratheon was hosting. It would be thrice as productive as the old foundry in the Street of Steel at half the fuel costs. It helped that we weren't shy about cannibalising the old foundry in the Street of Steel for spare parts, which greatly sped up the construction process.

Next, a concrete, cement and mortar factory was also being built, based on Volantene designs. It would be the first of its kind in Westeros. While cement and mortar were already known quantities to the Westerosi, they were never really mixed on an industrial scale. At best, a foreman would have a couple of workers dig a cement pit on site and manufacture the mortar there and there.

And concrete was a virtual unknown to the Westerosi. To be fair, the recipe and manufacturing process had only very recently left the Black Walls of Volantis. However, Volantene concrete was a major component of the Long Bridge, so they'd been forced to set up factories to manufacture the stuff in the Disputed Lands. Though the bureaucrats in charge of the factories said that much of the Old Blood would take it poorly if anyone stole the recipe and manufacturing process. 

Naturally, everyone stole the recipe and manufacturing process.

I mean, what were the Old Blood expecting? That they could dangle such an important construction material before us and not have any and everyone plagiarise it? That was like dropping a steak in front of a dog and blaming it for eating.

Anyway, last but certainly not the least, the Alchemist's Guild also had a new guildhall. Five times larger than the last, and far better equipped, the Wisdoms were happy to vacate their old premises. Relocating them from the heart of the capital to the Industrial District outside the city walls was a priority of mine, as an accident there involving wildfire would lead to far far fewer casualties.

But the main thrust of my construction efforts was in the Blackwater Bay.

You see, Blackwater Bay grew shallow nearby the shore, too shallow for most ships, save for the mouth of the Blackwater Rush. This meant that the seaside shores of King's Landing were mostly beaches on the north of the Blackwater Rush and mild cliffs on the south.

Normally that wouldn't be much of an issue, as the Blackwater Rush was the better part of a mile wide, and deep enough for any ship, but the Mander Canal had opened up a few months back, and the sheer volume of traffic going up the Blackwater Rush was mind boggling. Lord Corlys' estimates pegged the traffic as tenfold what it had previously been. Congestion was starting to become a problem.

It didn't help that I'd ordered a bridge raised over the Blackwater Rush to connect up the two halves of the Kingsroad. A good chunk of the harbour had to be torn down to make space for the ramp leading up to the bridge, and the pile drivers hammering into the riverbed pillars of steel sheathed in concrete were clogging up the river. 

And the congestion would only ever get worse, as more and more traders got wind that the Mander Canal was open for business and the new trade route fully settled into the global economy.

For instance, the Gold Fleet of the Ironborn had finally been finished, and had set out on their maiden voyage last month. Reports had them coming down the Oldstones canal en masse. A process which took days, due to the narrowness of the canal and the sheer size of the fleet. And I had no such illusions that the Mander Canal would be any less congested when they returned from Qarth.

Like it or not, we had to raise the nip the problem in the bud now, before the traffic truly got out of hand.

So I'd ordered the shores of Blackwater Bay dredged and artificially deepened, in order to facilitate new wharfs being raised by the seaside. We went to the Braavosi for that, as they were the most experienced when it came to artificially deepening waters; Much of Braavos' canals weren't originally deep enough for their largest cargo ships.

The dredging also had the added benefit of providing us with much more sand, gravel and clay for the construction endeavours.

Once the new harbours were raised, I intended on increasing the taxes on the old harbour while offering the local smallfolk free homes in the new districts before letting human nature do the rest.

———

110 AC, Legion Headquarters 

l'd only just returned from Dorne, and before I'd even left the Dragonpit, a messenger in legionary armour had intercepted me and requested that I visit Legion Headquarters ASAP.

My Generals were competent and knew better than to bother me with trivial affairs, so that they'd gone out of their way to get my attention was distressing enough that I'd agreed without any hesitation.

Still, my annoyance at being summoned when all I wanted was a hot bath and my bed meant that I was practically glowering as I rode down the streets of Legion Headquarters and stomped up the stairs to Marshal Darry's office, legionaries squeaking in fear and practically leaping out of my way.

"Marshal, Generals." I briskly greeted as I strode into the room. "This had better be good."

My eyes swept over the five of them. General Arryn and General Dustin were calling via glass candle, which meant that this was a serious beyond serious matter. I wondered just what could cause them to declare such a meeting. Something told me I wouldn't like it.

"We apologise for the abrupt summons, Lady Hand, but the situation is dire." General Jaime Arryn began. The man was a third cousin of Jeyne's, and utterly loyal to her, unlike her other, closer relatives. His loyalty had seen him rewarded far more often than a mere third cousin ought to, such as Jeyne handing him tactical command of the campaign against the Vale Mountain Clans, and eventually Generalship of the Fourth Legion.

If memory served, in Canon, because Jeyne was a lesbian and died unmarried and childless, she willed her fourth cousin Joffery Arryn to take over as Warden of the East. No Joffrey was born to House Arryn yet, but I highly suspected that General Jaime Arryn was his father.

"Explain." I ordered.

There was a beat of hesitation, before General Edric spoke up.

"Do you happen to be familiar with Ser Borros Baratheon's legion career so far?" The man tentatively asked.

"If remember correctly, it begun with him enlisting and breaking the jaws of a barber and two legionaries when he was sent to have a haircut." I recounted. "And when he was sent for disciplinary action, he demanded that he be pardoned outright as he was the heir to the Stormlands and was couldn't be sentenced by 'Upjumped smallfolk sergeants'."

The nods I got indicated that I was correct.

"But I don't see why this is such an issue. That's not the first time something like that happened." I pointed out. "Most lordlings struggle to adapt to legionary life."

Borros was hardly the first, and something told me he wasn't going to be the last.

"Most lordlings do not knock teeth out of fellow soldiers that annoy him, assault his superior officers, attempt to rape female legionaries and when facing court martial, demand a Trial By Combat between himself and General Edric Dondarrion, with the winner claiming generalship of the Legion." Marshal Darry drily said.

The armrests of the chair I was sitting on shattered under my grip as I glared balefully at the five men opposite me, the glass candle projections wavering and flickering.

"He didn't." I hissed in anger, the flames of every torch in the room tripling in size and intensity as eldritch malevolence oozed out of my every pore, the three men present in the room choking under the sheer pressure of my fury.

"He did." General Roderick confirmed, unfazed at my rage. "There were no less than seven independent reports on the matter."

"What happened next?" I got out between gritted teeth, forcing my magic under control, the flames dimming back to their natural state. There was a series of gasps as the three men in the room were released from the grip of my anger.

I patiently waited for them to catch their breath, taking the time to tame my temper. It had gotten worse ever since I became a Targaryen, and when I became a sorcerer, it only ever worsened. Like most Valyrian mages, I stockpiled magical energy from my dragon in jewellery, such that I'd have a ready supply to cast with while separated from my mount. Unfortunately, the energy tended to spill out of me when I got riled up and my grasp over the containment spells lapsed.

The first time it happened, I was unprepared and couldn't regain my control in time and the mana leaked out uncontrollably, being devoured hungrily by the flames within the many hearths and stoves and fireplaces in the manse, causing that fine Oldtown manse to burn down. At least these days my magical fine control was far better.

"I've since had him sent back to the cells and put under heavy restraint and guards." General Edric reported. "But the damage was done."

"Near every enlisted highborn in the legions began a mutiny in protest." Marshal Darry added. "They're demanding that we stop treating them as foot soldiers, subordinate to lowborn officers."

"We've arrested them all, but enough of a ruckus was made that their families are starting to put pressure on us." General Tarly gravelled. "It's proving to be a big issue."

The understatement of the century, that.

"It's only a matter of time before it spreads to my legion as well, Lady Hand." General Jaime Arryn reported. "And however bad it is at Headquarters, it will be worse in the Vale."

Fuck. The Fourth Legion's officers were veterans of the campaign against the Vale Mountain Clans with proven loyalties, but the rank and file were mostly made up of unruly bannermen. A mutiny there… Well, the Warden of the East might have to find a new heir. And I would need to call a well-armed army of malcontents to heel. Probably with dragonfire, which would be a damned waste.

At least they didn't have sappers yet.

"I understand now. No wonder why I was summoned so hastily." I ponderously said, considering the question. By Legion regulations, Borros' actions would have earned him a brisk hanging. Incitement of Mutiny was a capital offence.

But if I had Borros hanged, his father Lord Boremund Baratheon wouldn't take this lying down. The man loved his son, despite all of Borros' imperfections, and would probably declare war if I killed him.

But if I didn't have Borros hanged, then I'd be making a mockery of the very rules of the army that I raised. I'd be setting a dangerous precedent. Where all it took was highborn posturing and the rule of law could change.

Damned if I did, damned if I didn't.

I looked at the faces of my five commanders and saw no options. They too, were stumped, so they resorted to the tried and time-tested tactic of military officers: Kick the problem up the ladder.

Which was all fine and good. I'd done the same more than once back during my days as a sergeant in the Singapore Armed Forces, when I had problematic situations on hand that was out of my pay grade. Except this time, I was the person above them.

"Very well then." I finally said, my voice somehow still even. "I'll set up a date in court for his trial and summon Lord Boremund Baratheon to the capital. Let's do this proper, with a prosecution and defence."

I already had all the evidence. Was rather difficult to get around solid witnesses and official reports and documentation. I could feasibly dispense with both judge and jury, but calling the executioner was a decision not to be made in haste and wrath.

The preparatory period before the trial would give me enough time to compose myself. To calm down before sitting down to rationally decide just what to do with this mess.