Chapter 7

Winterfell, The North

Aryan was walking through the roads of Wintertown with Ser Rodrik Cassel, his steward cum spymaster Jaqen, and an old man named Loren following him. He took pride in seeing that Wintertown was slowly expanding in a planned way. With a population of almost a quarter million, it was on its way to becoming a city soon. The residential areas were on one side, while the shops and industries were on the other side of Wintertown. The farms were at the outskirts along the banks of the White Knife river. Winterfell Castle was surrounded from all sides by Wintertown. Public toilets were built throughout the place, and strict cleanliness was enforced. As most of the people were aware of the filthy conditions of King's Landing, they cooperated. He just had to make an example of bunch of some uncooperative people in the beginning to make sure the smallfolk complied. Public whipping has it's uses.

Many wells were also dug throughout Wintertown. Due to the presence of volcanic lava beneath the whole place, the wells provided hot water always. A five-hundred-member Winterguard was appointed at Wintertown to maintain law and order. They were given dark blue cloaks. For easier administration, he had appointed a sixty-year-old man named Loren as Mayor. The man had enough education and was loyal to Winterfell, which were enough reasons for Aryan to give him the post. The Mayor was also given a mansion near the castle and a few personal guards for which he was thankful. The post was not hereditary and would change if the current mayor was not good enough. The Mayor's job was to govern Wintertown, settle petty disputes, and collect income. He was directly answerable to the Lord of Winterfell.

"So, anything that requires my attention, Mayor?" asked Aryan.

"No, my lord, everything seems to be fine. People are happy. Though there was an incident a few weeks ago. A few septons came for preaching about the Faith of the Seven, which I allowed. But then they started to refer to the Old Gods as pagan and were urging people to cut the weirwood trees. People were getting agitated. So, in order to prevent any problems, I had to throw them out," Loren said.

"Good work, Mayor. In the future, don't allow any more followers of the Faith. If they can't coexist, then there is no reason for them to exist here. The Old Gods are the primary religion of the North, and nobody can change that." Aryan told him. "Now, what about the outer city walls? How long till they are completed?"

Now that Winterfell's coffers were brimming with revenue, Aryan had commissioned an eighty-foot-high wall encompassing the whole of Wintertown using black granite with enough space inside for future expansion.

The Mayor replied, "It is coming along slowly, my lord. It will take three to four years to be completed."

"Hope no one attacks us till then," Aryan said. "And what about the boat system?"

The man beamed and said, "The boat system through the White Knife is a brilliant idea, my lord. The merchants are especially pleased as it allows them faster transportation of goods to White Harbor and is also more secure. But these days, there seem to be increased bandit attacks along the King's Road. The smallfolk seem to be scared of that, and many are now traveling in the boats."

Aryan looked at Ser Rodrik Cassel and said, "Increase the patrols along the King's Road. If any bandits are found, kill them with extreme prejudice and then tie their dead bodies to a pole. Don't even give them a chance to opt for the black."

Ser Rodrik nodded and said, "At once, my lord." He then called a nearby soldier and gave him the necessary instructions.

"If that's all, Mayor, you may go," Aryan dismissed him. The man bowed and went away. They continued their walk in silence, observing their surroundings.

They passed through the Godswood of Wintertown. Unlike the Godswood within the castle, the weirwood trees here were relatively young. Many people were in the Godswood praying. Aryan had liked the Old Gods. Unlike the Faith, they did not demand money, rituals, or anything. You just prayed to them as needed. He found his magic stirring again. He had noticed that his magic grew most powerful in the presence of weirwood trees. He decided to look into the matter soon.

As they walked through the smooth cobbled path of Wintertown, people bowed to him with respect and gratitude in their eyes. He waved back at them. Most of the smallfolk needed food, work, shelter, and protection. He was providing all that, and so they were loyal to him. Someone rightly said, "Give them bread and circuses, and they will never revolt."

Eddard Cailstark had moved out finally, and Aryan was enjoying his newfound freedom. His mother was also enjoying her newfound freedom. She was now more relaxed and did not hide her new relationship as much as she used to.

Flashback

Aryan had noticed the change in his mother. She seemed lighter these days, freer in a way that he had never seen before. He had seen the way she smiled more, the way laughter came more easily to her lips. At first, he had wondered if it was simply casual relationship, but it seems it's serious. Aryan was no fool, he had seen love before, and he saw it now.

It did not bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact. If anyone deserved happiness, it was his mother. She had lost a lot, had given up everything for him, and even left Dorne for him, and now she finally had something just for herself.

One evening when they sat together in her solar, he finally spoke. "You care for her, don't you?"

Ashara looked up from the book she had been reading, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. For a moment she said nothing, merely studying his face as if trying to gauge his reaction. Then, with a quiet sigh, she nodded. "Yes, I do."

Aryan smiled. "Good. She makes you happy. That's all that matters."

Ashara's expression softened, and for the first time in a long while, he saw something that had she had been missing—peace. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

"I just want you to be happy, Mother." He squeezed her hand back before smirking. "Though, if she ever mistreats you, let me know. I will deal with her."

Ashara laughed, shaking her head. "Always so protective."

He shrugged. "Of course. You're my mother."

As the evening went on, they spoke of lighter things, of her happy days in Dorne.

Flashback Ends

"Any new information, Jaqen, on the skirmishes along the western coast?" he asked his steward cum spymaster.

There had been many skirmishes along the western coast for the past few moons. Unknown men in longships without any sigils were reaving villages there. When Aryan first heard about the attacks, he directed the lords along the western coast to increase the patrols along the shores. His uncle had also deployed the already completed ships at sea. He had a gut feeling that it was more than just some pirate attacks. While establishing an extensive spy network would take time, they had spies throughout King's Landing, the great houses, and major houses of Westeros.

"My sources have reported back. The skirmishes were by the Ironborn and not pirates like we thought earlier," Jaqen replied without any emotion as usual.

Rodrik cautioned, "The Ironborn are being active again, my lord. They were testing the defenses. This is not good. They will soon launch full-scale attacks."

Aryan thought for some time. "Ser Rodrik, what is the current military power of the North?"

After thinking for a moment, Rodrik replied, "The North now has sixty thousand men strong military with twenty thousand additional levies that can be raised in two moons. That is almost double the men we had during the last war. Winterfell alone can raise fifteen thousand men."

By then, they had reached an inn called Wolves Den, which was owned by the Starks. The main cook was a woman named Hilda, who used to be a cook at the castle. Since she was a good cook, Aryan had implanted the method of some food items from his world like treacle tart, different types of pies, and pizza into her mind, just like he had done with vodka. She was making those food items here, and the place was very popular. As expected, pizza was the most popular item there. The woman had now created several different types of pizzas herself. Like the vodka factory, the Wolves Den was also protected by wards to prevent the recipes from leaking out.

He ordered food for them. He used to occasionally come here, not only to enjoy the food but also for public appearances, just like the politicians of his old world. Interacting with the smallfolk and, if possible, solving their problems had made him very popular among the people of the North.

As they were eating, an acolyte of Marwyn came and gave Aryan two messages, saying, "These arrived just now, my lord. Maester Marwyn says they are very urgent."

Already guessing the message, he read the letters. Then, looking at the others, he said, "You were right, Ser Rodrik. It seems that the Ironborn have attacked. They tried to attack along our western coast and were repelled back due to our advanced warnings. But the same could not be said about the other kingdoms. Lannisport has been attacked and burnt. They are now attacking the Shield Islands. The King has called the banners for war against the Ironborn."

Ser Rodrick stood up and said, "I will write to other lords to rally their men, My Lord."

"Wait. I have a better idea. Already the other Kingdoms would be bringing their army against the Ironborn. So we don't need our whole military. Tell the other Lords to bring only half of their infantry. No need to show the rest of Westeros our increased military power now. Let them think that our military is still lower than some. It will help us in the future. Inform them to rally at Moat Cailin within a moon. Also, inform Lord Manderly to ready the fleet. Time to test our naval power. And tell him to bring on the Marauder." Aryan said. The Marauder was a Stark warship built at the docks of Braavos, half financed by the Iron Bank as a commission for the Canal. Aryan had not yet seen the ship, but from what Lord Manderly had said, it was the biggest warship he had seen.

"My Lord, do you need to go in person? You are still young," asked Rodrick.

"I will take the Lord Paramount title within a few years, Ser. A war experience will help me in my future. Besides, the North follows the strongest, and unlike the southerners, I am not going to wait till I get older. Please see to it that my orders are followed." Aryan told him and dismissed him.

They then finished their walk and went back into the castle.

Sitting in his solar, Aryan was waiting for Marwyn to arrive. The man was very loyal to him. As he had bound him to him using secrecy and loyalty oaths, Aryan had already told the man of his past life. This had two advantages. One, he did not have to behave as a child in front of him. he now treated him as an adult. Two, he did not have to make big lies about the source of his knowledge. He had already shared many medicinal potions and salves recipes with him, which could be made here. Using these new medicines, they had now appointed two acolytes who were specializing in healing as the healers in Wintertown. The small folk were given free treatment, and only a small fee was charged for the medicines.

In this world, only the glassmakers of Myr knew how to make glass, and they tightly guarded that secret. While Aryan knew about the basics of glass making, he did not know enough to make crystal clear glass. He had already told Marwin about that. The Archmaester had already begun his experimenting and was expecting a breakthrough soon.

There was a knock on the door, and Marwin entered.

Without wasting any time, Aryan said, "As you know, the Ironborn have attacked, and the King has called his banners. I will be going out soon. Tell me about the Ironborn."

Marwyn replied, "Of course, my Lord. The Iron Islands were settled by the First Men many thousands of years ago. Some even say that the ancestors of the Ironborn came from the Sunset Sea. As they were isolated from the rest of Westeros, the Ironborn did not take up the worship of the Old Gods of the forest, instead creating their own religion based around the Drowned God, a harsh deity said to dwell beneath the oceans. They believe the Drowned God made them to take what they wanted by right of strength, to rape, reave, and carve out kingdoms. The followers believe that 'What is dead may never die.'

The Hoares ruled over the Riverlands as Kings of the Isles and the Rivers. After the War of Conquest, however, the Ironborn were thrown back to their islands with Harren the Black and all his line extinguished during the Burning of Harrenhal. After that, House Greyjoy became their Lord of the Islands with their motto, 'We do not sow' (We reap). They were peaceful till now.

Also, their culture is based on The Old Way."

"The Old Way? Why do I have a feeling I won't like what you are going to say, Marwyn?" asked Aryan.

Marwyn replied with disgust, "The Old Way is still highly regarded on the Iron Islands and is a culture based on raiding. A man's worth is judged primarily on his skill as a raider. Men on the Iron Islands wear no tokens unless they have 'paid the iron price,' i.e., won by combat and taken from the corpses they have slain.

During raids, the Ironborn also take captives. Many of their captives would work as thralls, slaving away on the farms and mines of the Iron Islands since the true sons of the Iron Islands are meant for reaving and raping. Women were also taken captive to act as bed warmers; a man could have several 'salt wives' but only one true Ironborn wife, his 'rock wife.'"

Aryan listened attentively and then said, "So on the whole, we have to face an enemy whose culture glorifies raping and reaving. Their extinction could be a boon to the world, and nobody would miss them."

"Are you going to exterminate them, my Lord?" Marwyn asked.

"I can't say anything about that right now. You know, in my old world, I was used to leading people in battles. Killing also doesn't bother me. But in this world right now, I am a twelve-year-old boy. I need to prove myself in front of the lords. I will see what I can do. But for now, Uncle Ned would be the commander of the Northern Army." Aryan replied. "Now that I am going away, my mother will be in charge of Winterfell. I need you to do something. To have complete access to my magic, I need a wand. The wand contains two important parts—the wood and the core. I have already found that the Weirwood tree can be used for wood. I want you to find something that can be the core, which is usually a magical creature's body part. Research this and find possible avenues."

Marwyn replied, "Of course, my Lord. May I ask you what you are going to do once you have full access to magic? Magic is not looked upon kindly in Westeros. Even the Faith and Citadel are against magic. I even have suspicions that our order is responsible for the death of dragons."

With a smile, Aryan told him, "I don't have any plans to make my magical abilities public. But once I have full access to my magic, you and I are going to travel over the whole Planetos in search of other forms of magic."

Marwyn looked excited on hearing that and left promptly.

A week had passed since they received the message, and now Aryan was standing at the gate of Wintertown with his army of seven thousand men ready to depart to Moat Cailin. All of them were armored with good-quality steel. Even though he looked tall for his age, he was still dwarfed by the Small Jon Umber, who had come ahead to Winterfell while his father, Greatjon, with his army, would reach the Moat within a moon. The Stark ancestral greatsword, Ice, was at his back, which he was going to give to his uncle Eddard.

As for himself, he would be using a longsword. He did not bother to enchant the weapons, as it was difficult to store magic in metals, unlike Valyrian steel. The Valyrian steel metal had fascinated him as not only was it undamageable, but it could also store magic. He was already determined to obtain a Valyrian steel longsword at any cost. He had spent most of the past week training with his longsword, refreshing his muscle memory.

As Aryan stood ready to depart, his mother stepped forward, her eyes filled with worry. She reached out, cupping his face in her hands, her touch lingering. "You are still so young," she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I know I cannot stop you from going, but I need you to promise me something."

His voice steady. "Anything, Mother."

"Promise me you will not throw yourself into danger needlessly," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Wars are not won by reckless bravery, and I will not lose you, Aryan. I will not survive it."

He gently squeezed his mother's hands. "I promise. I will be careful. I will return."

Ashara let out a quiet breath, nodding. She took a step back, memorizing every detail. "While you are gone, I will keep Winterfell running smoothly." She smiled softly, though she almost cried.

Ashara hugged him tightly "Come back to me, Aryan."

"I will," he whispered.

With one last look, he turned and rode forward. They began their journey.