Chapter 12: Financial Strain

"My lord, if this continues, our winter reserves will be depleted."

Vayon Poole, the steward of Winterfell, stood before Eddard with a thick ledger, his voice filled with concern.

These past few days, Eddard had come to understand the saying, "You don't know the cost of running a household until you're in charge."

Winter Town had initially housed only five thousand residents, but the population had swelled to over thirty thousand as more people flocked to the settlement. With all the houses sold out, many newcomers were temporarily housed in tents outside Winterfell.

At first, prices in Winter Town remained stable. The North had just enjoyed a bountiful harvest, and many residents arrived with carts full of corn and grain.

But soon, food prices began to rise.

While many farmers who settled in Winter Town had brought their own grain, the mountain clansmen who arrived were mostly herders. With little arable land in their territories, they relied on raising sheep. Many of them had driven their flocks to Winter Town.

Others, who had traveled long distances, chose to sell their stored grain before coming to Winter Town. They arrived with money instead of food. Even if they were allocated land and planted crops, it would be months before they could harvest anything.

With so many mouths to feed, Eddard had to dip into the food reserves that the lords had brought as tribute during Rickon's celebration feast. The reserves were sold out in a single day.

Eddard had asked Lord Wyman Manderly of White Harbor to increase grain shipments to Winter Town. Supplies arriving via the White Knife were ample, but the prices had risen significantly, leading to complaints from the residents. Some began to question whether Winter Town was truly a suitable place to settle long-term. Those from nearby areas, such as Castle Cerwyn and Torrhen's Square, packed up and returned home.

With Winter Town overcrowded, maintaining order became a major challenge. Jory Cassel, the captain of Winterfell's guards, was responsible for Winter Town's security. Despite expanding the guard to five hundred men, keeping the peace was still a struggle.

Brawls were a daily occurrence. Fights broke out in gambling dens, brothels, and taverns. A few days ago, herders from House Norrey of the mountain clans clashed with some of Winter Town's original residents.

The conflict started when the herders let their sheep graze on the farmland of the original residents, destroying newly sprouted crops.

In previous winters, when the mountain clansmen came to Winter Town, they didn't bring their goats. But now, in summer, many herders clad in animal pelts had arrived with their flocks. When the original residents discovered their crops ruined, a fight broke out.

Fortunately, the brawlers only suffered minor injuries. Eddard ordered the herders to compensate the farmers with a few sheep, and the farmers to give the herders a bag of corn. The matter was settled.

Thieves were caught almost daily, and poaching in the Wolfswood had increased significantly. Eddard had promised that Winter Town's residents could hunt legally during the harvest season, but with much of the land still uncultivated, these poachers were taking advantage.

Lord Commander Mormont of the Night's Watch might have been the only one pleased with the decline in Winter Town's security. The more serious offenders were sent to the Wall, while others were sent to the military settlements in the Gift.

Winterfell had partnered with the Night's Watch to reclaim the abandoned lands in the Gift. The first military settlement, led by Tomard of Winterfell, was established at Queenscrown. According to Tomard's reports, they had already cleared over ten acres of land, planted corn, and built apiaries. Every household in the settlement had dogs to guard against wildling raids.

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

The settlement project in Winter Town was progressing well. Timber from the Wolfswood was being used to build houses quickly. However, Eddard's initial pricing—100 copper stars for a house and an acre of land—was far below market value. Every house built meant a loss for Winterfell's treasury.

Many suggested raising the prices for houses and land, but Eddard refused. These people had been drawn to Winter Town by the favorable terms, and raising prices would break their trust.

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

"Many residents of Winter Town have already exhausted their supplies. As per your orders, I released three carts of dried meat, five carts of corn, and one cart of ale from Winterfell's winter reserves yesterday. They were sold out before nightfall. We've made some money, but it's not enough to cover the costs of the guards, house construction, apiaries, salt pans, military settlements, and purchasing supplies. In the end, we're still losing money."

Eddard said, "I've already sent people to the Dreadfort, Barrowton, and Karhold to buy grain. White Harbor is also sending a steady supply of food from the south. It's summer, and our vassals say their granaries are full."

Vayon Poole sighed. "My lord, have you forgotten the Stark words? Winter is coming. This summer has lasted six years, but who knows when it will end? Maester Luwin says even the Citadel can't predict the seasons accurately. What if autumn storms and snowstorms destroy our crops, and the land freezes over? What will we do then?"

Eddard smiled. "Then Winter Town will truly live up to its name."

Vayon Poole closed the ledger. "I've heard that many craftsmen are coming from all over. Does my lord intend to wait until we've spent the last gold dragon in Winterfell's treasury? The people outside Winterfell are nothing but useless mouths. They'll eventually consume everything around them."

Eddard said calmly, "We need patience. We'll tighten our belts and get through this period."

Vayon Poole replied dryly, "I hope it goes as you wish, my lord. I'm the steward of Winterfell, not Winter Town. I can't keep this up. Didn't you say you were hiring a..."

Eddard patted Vayon Poole's shoulder. "You've worked hard. Lord Wyman has sent a raven. The financial manager he hired from Braavos has arrived in White Harbor and should be here in a few days. Once he arrives, he'll take over Winter Town's finances, and you can focus on Winterfell."

Since Eddard planned to develop Winter Town into a city, he needed a professional to manage its finances. Vayon Poole was diligent, but he lacked expertise in taxes, pricing, loans, and investments.

Lord Wyman had recommended a Braavosi named Klaar, a former employee of the Iron Bank who had also worked for a trading company in Tyrosh. He was experienced and capable.

After Vayon Poole left, Eddard frowned at the ledger's staggering expenses.

What would happen when Winterfell's funds ran out? Raising taxes? That would only lead to complaints from his vassals and people, and it wouldn't solve the problem.

Borrowing from the Iron Bank of Braavos was an option, but the debt would place a heavy burden on Winterfell. If they couldn't repay it, the Iron Bank's motto, "The Iron Bank will have its due," was no idle threat.

Any kingdom that defaulted on its debt to the Iron Bank would face rebellions funded by the bank, leaving the ruling family overwhelmed. And Eddard was only the Lord of Winterfell, not a king.

Catelyn entered, carrying Rickon.

"What are you working on?"

Eddard put down the ledger, frustrated. "I'm worrying about money. Sometimes I wonder why my lands don't have gold mines. The damn Lannisters sit on a mountain of gold, while we Northerners work hard farming, herding sheep, raising cattle, and breeding horses, yet earn so little."

Catelyn smiled. "That's just how the world is. I warned you that expanding Winter Town, building salt pans, and establishing military settlements would leave us in the red. What do you plan to do?"

Eddard said, "The plans must go forward. If necessary, we'll borrow to get by."

Catelyn suggested, "If you need to borrow, you could turn to Littlefinger. Don't forget, Petyr Baelish was my father's ward. He's now the Master of Coin. If I ask him, he won't refuse."

Eddard snorted. "I doubt the royal treasury has any money to lend. Robert loves tourneys, wine, and women. Rumors say the crown is deeply in debt. I won't borrow from Littlefinger. If I need to ask the crown for help, I'll go directly to Robert."

Catelyn pressed on, "Borrowing from Littlefinger doesn't mean borrowing from the crown. As Master of Coin, he knows many lending channels. Through him, we could borrow from trading companies in Tyrosh, banks in Myr, or the Iron Bank of Braavos."

"I can contact those institutions directly. Why involve Littlefinger as a middleman?" Eddard's voice was filled with disdain at the mention of Littlefinger.

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