On Green Clegane's desk lay three coins: a gold dragon, a silver stag, and a copper star.
[Some examples for clarity: a full plate armor set starts at 16 gold dragons, chainmail at 6 dragons, a fine warhorse at 10 dragons, an Unsullied at 100 dragons (not including shipping), a meal with meat and beer costs about 20–30 copper stars, and a farmer's yearly income is about 1 gold dragon.]
The Clegane treasury currently held about 2,000 gold dragons in cash (not including goods stored in the lord's warehouse).
However, there was an external debt of 5,000 gold dragons, with 500 dragons in interest paid just last year.
After the Rebellion, under the instruction of Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, the Vale's nobles and merchants issued forced loans to help the lords of the Crackclaw Point "weather the storm."
This was also part of the postwar peace agreement.
You'd never actually see a gold dragon of that loan. The nobles and merchants of the Vale treated your original lands as the loan's principal.
That's just how brutal it was.
You could refuse, of course—but Baratheon arms hadn't yet been laid to rest, and Robert still hadn't had his fill of war.
Clegane lands were valued at 5,000 gold dragons. To date, House Clegane had paid 7,500 gold dragons in interest.
Under the contract, they had to continue paying for five more years—2,500 dragons—and in the final year, repay the principal of 5,000.
This was how the Red Keep kept a leash on the lords of Crackclaw Point.
The "postwar reconstruction interest" sounded nice on paper. The amount was calculated just right—enough to barely survive, but not enough to thrive. Not enough to provoke rebellion, but enough to suppress growth.
To the Baratheon dynasty, a weak and compliant lord from Crackclaw Point was the ideal kind of lord.
The Clegane lands had just over 2,000 inhabitants. Because of the constant threat from mountain wildlings, they had no choice but to maintain a standing force of 200 household troops—tightening their belts to do so.
That was already pushing things to the absolute limit.
Due to years of war, the population was skewed—more women than men.
The women here had sturdy builds. Most of them worked the fields and hunted like men. There were many spear-women.
With proper weapons, the spear-women could also be conscripted to fight—to seize gold and men.
The territory was nearly a militia state. Leaving behind only the artisans and the old and weak, they could fully mobilize up to 1,500 fighters.
The surrounding mountain clans were scattered and disorganized—some with a few dozen people, the largest with only a few hundred.
They could be steamrolled.
Why bother farming? As already mentioned, House Clegane's motto had been temporarily replaced with:
"To seize by strength is better than to plow in hardship."
First, they had to crush the coalition of wildling clans that had gathered to exploit the fact that the new heir, Green, was young.
It would all start with this war.
The next day, heavy clouds loomed overhead.
The curved walls of Whispering Keep were rugged and crude—not exactly elegant.
But large enough to shelter all 1,000-plus nearby inhabitants in times of war.
Green stood atop the castle wall, more than 20 meters high, gazing downward. Behind him stood Steward Herschel and Knight Ser Pell.
With King Robert dead and war once again constant, Whispering Keep needed a long-term plan.
Green looked to the south.
The land there was flat. He thought to first build a ring fortification for ten thousand people, then a second ring… but chuckled to himself.
—Better not call it the First Ring. Let's name it the Inner City instead.
"Herschel, take this down."
"From now on, the 'Fishing Village' will be renamed Mermaid Port."
Steward Herschel faithfully took note.
"The mermaid has the upper body of a maiden and the lower body of a fish. Even the Seven would praise her beauty."
Herschel hesitated and asked:
"My lord, wouldn't that kind of description be… a bit inappropriate? Some of the septons already look down on us."
Green, an atheist, had originally wanted to say "Even the Seven would lose their minds over her," but he had already toned down the wording.
"Thank you for your advice, Herschel."
Green paused, then said, "Bards. Go find some trustworthy bards. Convey the general idea to them—let them handle the phrasing. That's their profession."
"Herschel, continue recording: Mermaids love to sing songs passed down through generations—songs that touch the soul. Mermaids are extremely shy. Only in the dead of night, when no one is around, will they rise to the surface to sing. Their beautiful voices sound as if… hmm, like heavenly music."
(Originally, Green wanted to say "as if kissed by the Seven," but held himself back.)
"Mermaids are carefree, kind, and optimistic. Only in the deepest sorrow, when utterly heartbroken, will they cry. The tears of a mermaid turn into the most crystal-clear pearls in the world—one tear, one pearl."
"A mermaid can only fall in love once in her life. When a mermaid falls in love for real, she swears a vow of love."
"That vow… make sure you record it carefully. It's important."
"I vow to become the beloved of [so-and-so],
To love what he loves, to think what he thinks,
To share his pain and endure his hardships,
Whether in poverty or in wealth,
Whether humble or noble,
Whether in times of chaos or in places the gods ignore—
I shall live for him, die for him,
Never leave, never abandon, until the end of time!"
Steward Herschel and Ser Pell both opened their mouths slightly, faces full of emotion.
Green believed they had been moved—convinced, even.
Could the humble fishing village truly be the hiding place of an ancient legend?
Seeing this, Green decided to change his original plan.
A secret only becomes real when you convince others to believe in it. Let's make it a shared delusion.
So, Green chose to believe in the legend of the mermaid too.
And don't forget one crucial point—mermaids are the shyest race in the world. The fact that no one can find them? That's normal.
Come, come to Mermaid Port. Go mad for mermaids.
"This is a secret that has only ever been passed orally between the heads of House Clegane. I'm telling you now because you two are the people I trust the most."
Herschel and Pell straightened their backs.
Yes—there is no one in the world more trustworthy than us!
"First, mobilize all the villagers from the fishing village. Build a simple dock nearby. The location can be a bit farther away—it just needs to be convenient for large ships to anchor."
"Second, construct a lighthouse to guide nearby ships in."
"At the same time, we need taverns, inns, and shops—nothing fancy to start with, just fully functional. We need to earn every single copper star."
"All strong villagers must be armed. The elderly and weak can help in the shops. We must ensure the safety of friendly guests."
"Mermaid Port must become increasingly beautiful, increasingly comfortable. We must not let those who come here for its name leave disappointed."
"These things are all important."
The steward seemed to understand: "My lord, the longer and wider the legend of the mermaid spreads, the more people will be drawn to Fishi—Mermaid Port. Our leather can be sold directly to buyers, no longer undercut by traveling merchants. And not just leather… Mermaid Port will become a trade hub."
"No wonder you're willing to spread the legend of the mermaid…"
"Yes. Rules are dead things. For the development of our lands, sacrifices are sometimes necessary. As your lord, I must make them."
"It must spread secretly, naturally. I'm counting on you."
With that, Green turned around and clasped his hands behind his back, letting out a long sigh.
The hem of Green's robe fluttered in the wind.
Herschel bowed deeply, his expression solemn.
Ser Pell, in plate armor, clenched the hilt of his sword so tightly the veins on his hand bulged, and bowed alongside Herschel.
.
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