Chapter 17: Northern Shores and New Alliances
Time: Early Century of Blood (Continuing)
POV: Kaelen Silvanor
Our initial success in Oldtown, establishing a robust trade with the shrewd Hightowers, was merely the first step. The Reach, while vast, was only one part of Westeros. To truly solidify the Silvanar Empire's name and its unique resources on this new global stage, our reputation for reliability needed to reach every corner. My gaze now turned North. The whispers of a harsh climate, proud, unyielding lords, and a vastly different culture only sharpened my resolve. Building alliances in such a diverse continent would prove invaluable.
Leaving a seasoned trade delegation to manage the burgeoning routes from Oldtown to Riverlight Hearth, I once again led a small fleet, now accustomed to the chillier winds that marked the journey north. The ships, built from the rare, resilient hardwoods of Sothoryos, proved more than capable of handling the open seas and the occasional squall. Our destination was White Harbor, the largest northern port, nestled in the mouth of the White Knife river. Its reputation as a bustling mercantile center, ruled by the seafaring Manderlys, made it the logical next step.
Our arrival in White Harbor was, if anything, even more impactful than our appearance in Oldtown. The heavily built northern ships, designed for icy waters and rough seas, seemed almost crude next to the sleek, living-wood infused hulls of my vessels. The sight of my crew, agile and quiet, their eyes holding a calm ancientness, drew curious stares from the grizzled longshoremen and bundled merchants.
I sought an audience with the current Lord Manderly, a portly but sharp-eyed man whose gruff exterior masked a keen mind for coin. He received me in his hall, curious and cautious. Unlike the Hightowers, whose ancient lineage demanded a certain decorum, Lord Manderly was more direct, less given to flowery words.
"They say you bring food from the southern hells," he rumbled, his gaze assessing my unblemished face. "And that your ships are born of trees."
"They say true, my lord," I replied, my voice steady. "I am Kaelen, a merchant from the Silvanar Empire in Sothoryos. We bring sustenance from fertile lands untouched by the Doom's immediate fury, and ships built by a wisdom older than men remember. While your kingdoms contend with each other, struggling to feed their levies and their people, we offer a solution. Grains that resist frost, preserved meats that last seasons, and exotic fruits that defy the harsh northern winters."
Lord Manderly stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Silvanar Empire? I confess, I've not heard this name. Is there truly an empire in Sothoryos, merchant?"
"Yes, there is, my lord," I affirmed, my gaze unwavering. "And we do not make contact with the outside world that often. Our lands are rich and self-sufficient, but the world's recent turmoil has presented us with a unique opportunity to extend our reach and offer our bounty. We seek only fair trade and a stable partnership."
"And what do you seek in return, Kaelen?" he asked, his initial skepticism giving way to a flicker of intrigue. "Every man has his price. Gold? Slaves? Alliance in wars that are not your own?"
"Peace," I stated simply. "And fair trade. We seek iron, hardy furs, perhaps some of your northern timber, though ours is superior. We seek a relationship built on trust and mutual benefit. Our word is iron, our deliveries unfailing. We desire only to make a name for the Silvanar Empire as a reliable partner in a world that has lost its footing."
He grunted, then a slow smile spread across his face. "A bold claim. But a hungry North cares little for ancient grudges when bellies are empty. Prove your word, Kaelen, and White Harbor will open its coffers."
And so, trade began to flow north. Our ships, now a familiar sight in White Harbor, discharged their vital cargoes, and returned south laden with the North's offerings. The Lords of the North, pragmatic and resilient, quickly recognized the invaluable support our trade provided during a period of widespread hardship. The name "Silvanar Empire," though still shrouded in distant mystery, began to gain a reputation for consistent reliability across the distant, frozen Wall.
The Silvanar Empire was quietly weaving itself into the very fabric of the wider world, not through the clang of swords, but through the consistent hum of trade, carried by a merchant and his strange ships from a hidden land.