3 Chapter 3 EDRICK

""Dialogue:

-- -- Internal Thought

«» Note or Written Letter

*** Scene Break

() Author's Explanatory Note

A child could be seen swimming in the hot springs of Godswood with a ceramic tablet under his arm.

--Phew, well, thank goodness the thermal lake isn't very deep. If it were deeper, I'd have no choice but to leave the tablet at the bottom until I found a way to breathe underwater--

"Come on, Duncan, that's enough for today. My father said to fetch you before lunch," Ned said as he dried off.

--Apparently, this is the latest Godswood has to offer this moon. Lately, I've unearthed quite a few things around here. The best part is I have a new companion and escort in treasure hunting in Duncan. It's good company since what happened with the maester. My father has now assigned a guard to each family member, and he accompanies me on all my excursions. God, I appreciate having some strength for digging. From the first wolf I found to today, I've unearthed 30 silver stags and 15 golden dragons. I found some old coins, according to Tata, they seem to be coins from the Kingdom of the Gardener Kings, about 40 of them in gold and silver, although they're very worn. Maybe I should melt them down; I don't think there are collectors in this part of the world.

I also unearthed another wolf cub, which I gave to my mother, you know, good wishes are never bad. Last but I think most importantly, a chest. This last one was a surprise; I was originally digging a few meters from the heart tree looking for a green light that turned out to be a bronze dagger. Thanks to the old gods, Duncan did the heavy lifting while Tata and I clapped and had a snack. Don't get me wrong, I usually try to help with the work, but the damn thing was buried quite deeply...

Retrospective Scene

"Come on, DUNCAN, you're almost there," I commented as my escort climbed up.

"Good job, that's the dagger I dreamed of; you can take a break," I said as I exchanged the dagger from his hands for a glass of beer.

"Lad, it would be wise to dig a little deeper, you might get a surprise,"

"But grandma, there's nothing else there, I'm sure."

"If anything, the legends tell us, my lord, it's that not even the dead are safe in these lands. Come on, Duncan, leave your glass and keep digging."

"..."

The surprise I got when under the dagger, half a meter deeper, there was a wooden chest.

Well, then there was something else there. Well, I don't think it has any value or there would be some light shed on it.

After Duncan managed to pull the chest out of the nearly 2-meter-deep hole, I could observe it. The chest was of a pale white with red veins resting in front of me.

"What peculiar wood, I've never seen it before."

"That, little wolf, is Weirwood, it's normal you haven't seen it. It's been centuries since it's been used; the only use of Weirwood wood is for making bows, and only the branches that naturally fall are used for them."

"But Tata, I don't remember the knots being that color."

"Centuries have passed since anyone saw that color in the wood. You see, little wolf, since the Pact, no one has cut down a heart tree; the Andals, for their part, preferred to burn the trees to the roots. Even if they cut it down and wanted to make furniture with it, the wood would be as white as the throne of the Eyrie."

"Damn, even if it doesn't have anything valuable inside, the chest itself would be worth a fortune," said Ned as he closely examined the chest.

"Alright, let's see what's inside, using the dagger to pry the lid open." When Ned's hand slipped, the dagger cut his hand, and it was right at the moment his blood touched the chest.

Clink, it opened.

Ned had no choice but to quickly shut his eyes, somewhat blinded by the explosion of dust and color that burst out.

The contents of the chest emitted a dance of colors dominated by an intense golden hue. Inside the chest were three not very thick books, several opaque bottles, a fur cloak, four ingots of pure gold with a lion engraved, two of silver engraved with a bull's head, some claws, as well as a mammoth tusk, and lastly, a bag of small white seeds. Everything was in perfect condition as if it had been buried yesterday. It was so impressive that even Tata and the ever-stoic Duncan were moved.

"The Grand Prize"

Ned carefully took the books and read the first one.

«Tales of the North»

With a quick scan, he realized all those legends were identical to the ones his grandmother always told when they were in Godswood or before bed.

The second book had runes of the First Men, totaling 20 pages. Some runes spanned two or more pages and came with only a brief description like: power, protection, sharpness... though on the larger ones their explanation was missing, only drawn as if it were not a language but simple drawings.

The last book was the most interesting; it was a diary that seemed worn not by the passage of time but by continuous use, as if someone had carried it with them everywhere. Carefully opening it, he read:

«I am the third son, son of Kings, and like every third son, I am condemned to be forgotten. My older brother will be the Stark of Winterfell, my second brother now bears the name Karstark and will rule the forest of the Ancient Greenwood. I have never been like my brother; I am not good with the sword or with the bow, but I am with letters. My brother mentions he will make me castellan of Winterfell, but I do not desire it. I want to be remembered as something more. I wrote this diary so as not to die, to live in it.

1200 After Brandon

EDRICK STARK »

After setting the book down, he noticed there was a note near his foot, undoubtedly dropped when the chest was opened.

«To the Chosen One:

If you are reading this, it means the blood of the Kings of Winter runs through you. I hope the Starks still exist in Winterfell... if not, and they have been lost over the course of history, take what is inside the box as a gift from your ancestor and from all those who today honor the pact. I salute you, Stark; take this as confirmation that you are a wolf and safeguard my contribution to the enduring family history, what little I have learned on my travels, what little Brandon left to his descendants.

Edrick Stark, Lord of the Barrows»

"Oh, Edrick Stark was really old, long beard, lived longer than a man with his skills should have lived, he must have had a funny nickname, I remember. Always trying to put out other people's fires, sad for his sons."

"Tata, I think you're confusing him with Old Nan, but he didn't live to be 1200 years old, so he must be a different Stark." End of scene

"Hi son, how are you? We haven't had time to see each other lately. How many more treasures have you found?" Rickard said.

"Fine, father. It seems like my luck ran out, or maybe there's nothing left in Godswood for me."

"And you, dad? Brandon must miss you at the table."

"Haha, lordly matters, you know. I never realized the importance of the maester of Winterfell. I really failed as the guardian of the North if what most reports say is true."

"WOW, is the situation that serious? Is there anything I can do to help? You know, I'm good at reading."

Rickard looked at his son as if judging something or searching for something in him. Since the maester's failure, Ned could feel his father treating him differently, not like a six-year-old child; it was almost as if he trusted his judgment, even though he didn't participate in the lessons.

"What kind of failed father must I be to force a child to help me with my work? But of course, maybe your love for reading will help... Here," he said, showing him a list and a book. "Tell me what you see in these two."

Several minutes later...

"It's complicated; I don't even know why they use these numbers," said Ned, somewhat confused.

"Phew," sighed Rickard a bit disappointed. "Haha, of course, it's difficult, but don't worry, it's still too early for you," as Ned continued lost in his thoughts.

"No, I didn't mean that, father. I meant that the Maester's system is outdated; there's too much redundancy in the reports. For example, the purchase of ink from the Citadel doesn't correspond to what the Maester supposedly allocated. There are also several expenses that seem very high," said Ned, pointing out various parts of the text.

"Look, some things are ridiculously expensive; it's almost as if he's embezzling the accounts," he said, raising his head from the scrolls. At that moment, he saw his father smiling from ear to ear.

"Haha, well done, Ned. It took me all morning to realize some of those things. Very well, Eddard of House Stark, as Lord of Winterfell, I appoint you junior steward of Winterfell. Do you accept the position?" His father said with a smile as he ruffled his hair.

"Yes, sir," said Ned, performing a military salute.

"You'll have to tell me what that salute you and your brother do means someday, haha."

"Fraternity secret," they both chuckled under their breath.

"Jokes aside, do you think you could review more accounts like this one?"

"Of course, father. How much time do I have?"

"Let's say a moon; I need to be sure of what we're facing before the caravans from White Harbor arrive in five weeks."

"Of course, father, but I'll need two servants to help me gather some data and a place to work near a dormitory."

"I'll tell Tom to get you what you need. Also, your mother will oversee your work, although her childbirth is imminent, she could use something to do. You can use the Maester's study and his old room," - although I don't know why you need a dormitory; it's not like you have to work until you're exhausted.

"Of course, father, that would help me a lot," said Ned as he prepared to leave.

"By the way, it seems that the ravens from the Citadel, among others, died in the storm, and since the storm doesn't cease, at least for a moon, I can't send a rider to any castle to borrow ravens for us."

Ned looked out the window where the sun was shining through and understood.

"So it seems we won't be able to send a replacement from the Citadel soon, not soon enough before your mother's childbirth."

"I understand, father. It would be wise to look for a midwife in Wintertown to assist her."

"It's not necessary; tell Duncan to invite your friend Lys; she seems to be the best healer in the village."

"..."

"Is there a problem?"

"Of course not, father."

"Ah, and find Brandon in the stable; tell him it's time to spend time with his father."

--Well, that went too well. I didn't think he'd entrust something so important to a six-day-old child-- thought Ned as he made his way to the stables.

"Hi, Brandon. Dad is looking for you; he wants you to go to his solar."

"Hi, Ned. Is it time for lordly matters?"

"Lordly matters indeed."

As he watched his brother leave, he saw his mother talking to Duncan.

"Hi mom."

"Hello little one, what's up?"

"Nothing, just want to spend time with you, you know, before you trade me for a cute crying sister."

"Really? And here I thought you came to brag about the new position your father gave you."

"No, just looking... wait, how do you know?"

"One moment, dear," she said as she turned to the giant.

"So, Duncan, please go to Wintertown, tell Lys I'll be in her care, and also tell her Ned sends his regards."

"Did you talk to father?"

"With Rickard? No, haven't seen him since yesterday, but mice talk to me like birds talk to you, little one," Lyarra said with a shrewd smile.

--Great, first my father gives me a power demonstration, making it clear he knows everything that's going on with me and Brandon, and now I find out my mother has her own spies or something. What a lesson!

Walking with two large scrolls in his hands towards the godswood, Ned couldn't help but sigh in exhaustion.

Throughout this moon, I've been working with my team like crazy. I did nothing but review documents and shipping orders while Tom and Edwin, my two assistants, ran around Winterfell to find out the quantities and necessary items in every part of the castle. My mother was of great help in verifying this data as, being the Lady of Winterfell, she had a fairly accurate idea of the quantities used and the stocks in the castle. Duncan was not idle either; I sent him to Wintertown every day to inquire about market prices. Okay, I have to admit it wasn't necessary for him to go daily, but imagining a giant, silent figure asking prices from stall to stall was the only thing that made my day enjoyable, haha.

Another thing that happened during this moon was that Lys or Arwen came to live in the castle to take care of my mother. She says the baby is not far from being born. And lastly, it seems my father finally notified the Citadel of Walys's death.

"Good morning, Lord Stark," said Ned, bowing slightly.

"What was that, son?" said Rickard, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, today I'm not here as your son but as the chief accountant of Winterfell."

"Oh, I see you've progressed," he said, looking at the two scrolls in Ned's hands.

"No, not progress, I'm finished with everything."

"Excellent, you finished just in time."

"Well, actually, I finished a week ago, hehe. I took the last week to organize and summarize all the information for this moon," handing over the first scroll.

"Oh, I see. And what about the second scroll?"

"This one, father, is my suggestion. Here's a list of things that can be found in Wintertown, as well as their prices, so you can compare them with caravan prices. I also noted the products that can be found in the nearby woods. I noticed we requested some medicinal herbs from the south that can be replaced with fresher and more effective ones, according to Lys, and best of all, they're free, and since consumption is not so high, there's no risk of running out."

"Let me see that," he said somewhat excitedly, "and do you have any idea how much we'll save with the forest herbs, son?"

"Hmm, I don't have an exact number because I haven't counted the people who would have to go there, but I'd say at least about 15 golden dragons."

"15 golden dragons a year, that's quite something."

"No father, not annually, 15 golden dragons per moon, more or less."

Cough cough

"I also have news," said Rickard, composing himself, "the Citadel responded."

"They will send a newly appointed Archmaester, although they didn't specify his specialty; his name is Castos. It seems the Citadel is dealing with an epidemic in the Stormlands, and all the maesters are busy for at least six moons, maybe more. If winter arrives although they assure us there are still at least 8 moons left before autumn ends, they offer to transfer another maester from the major houses like Maester Barro. They are also very optimistic about the books they found; they are sending a ship to Flint's Finger to pick them up along with Walys's belongings."

"Why would they do so much for some old books, father, and even better, why should we send them?"

"They are just claiming their rights. You see, it's not something everyone remembers or is common knowledge, but before the Conquest, the maesters weren't as widespread as they are now. The order mainly operated in the Reach, and only a few castles received a maester. Outside the Reach, lords saw the order as mercenaries who, instead of swords, sold knowledge. They were hired in exchange for gold as a second opinion to local healers, to design castles or cities, and even to repair some tomes in their private libraries."

"Wow, so lords trusted hired people for such important matters?"

"It's more common than you think. One of the customs still deeply rooted since the First Men... It's even said that both Brandon the Builder and his sons were some of the most knowledgeable mercenaries, although only during their time.

"Youth. Much of the wealth that funded our house in the Wars of Northern Unification came from the payments they received in these jobs." (Author's Note: Caution, written by the Citadel, take these data as the popular version, not as absolute truth)

--I see, that's why they say Bran the Builder raised Winterfell, the seat of the Starks, the Wall, and Storm's End, and his son Brandon Hightower. There's even another Brandon related to the Moat Cailin, damn it, half of the lords say their castles have a Brandon as architect-- thought Ned.

"But how is it that every castle now has a maester in their service?"

"It's not even as old as people think. After the Conquest, Aegon Targaryen demanded that the maesters make a vow renouncing their loyalties, the ability to inherit, and even the possibility of starting a family, promising to be neutral and loyal to the house that Obviously, the Citadel wasn't very pleased."

"But why, father, if they were supposed to be neutral while they were hired?"

"You see, just as they were paid with gold, some had the chance to become nobles if they made great contributions to a kingdom. So, the king had no choice but to fly to Oldtown to negotiate."

"Although I don't know why he didn't just burn Oldtown down like he did with Harrenhal. Anyway, Aegon managed to achieve neutrality while the maesters managed to be recognized for their right to all books and especially knowledge in Westeros."

"And they just accepted it; I don't see a Lannister easily parting with anything."

"Nor do I, son, but the lords got something equally valuable, the requirement that a maester be on the small council and the possibility that, for a fee of gold, noble children can learn at the Citadel without having to join the order. But what finally made them accept were some giant lizards that spat fire you see, a three-way compromise was created: the maesters had their books, the king had his neutrality, and the lords had the possibility of a second or third son being born; the king's closest confidant."

For a moment, Ned thought it was too much work for a group of nerds to swear neutrality, but after a moment of reflection, he understood why Aegon I Targaryen would yield so much; he considered them dangerous.

"You know father, although Lys is reliable for mother's childbirth and as a physician, we'll need a maester even for a few moons until Archmaester Castos arrives."

"So, father, have you considered which maester we'll steal from your bannermen?"

"Not yet, no matter who I choose, everyone will be offended, the one I choose for taking their maester during winter, and the others because they'll think we don't trust their maester."

"For now, I'm torn between Maester Barro of House Cerwyn and Maester Rass of House Manderly. Which one would you choose?"

"Well, father, I understand why we've come to these options; choosing Maester Barro is less than a day away, so if something happens, he can arrive quickly. But the fact that the Citadel specifically mentions this maester doesn't sit well with me."

"As for White Harbor, from what I understand, he's the only maester who has followers there, so they won't be defenseless against an unexpected event."

"However, this doesn't solve the problem of other bannermen being upset."

"So, should we go without a maester for a year?"

"I think I have an idea; there's a maester we can steal during winter, though I'm not sure you'll like it..."

_______

Edrick Stark

Entry number 2

A month ago news arrived of ships on the horizon, hundreds of ships.

While we were at the Barrow, we prepared to repel the invasion, but when we reached the coast, we found no conquering warriors, only a few poorly armed sailors and hungry children and women on the brink of death from hunger.

My brother will arrive in a few days to speak with them; Until then I have ordered that they not leave their camp.

His gaze... still haunts me in my nightmares. I don't know what those eyes saw, what they're running from. It's been a moon since we took them in, but I still don't understand why, even after being here, they keep looking towards the horizon with fear, as if fleeing from something.

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HI I had to re-upload the entire chapter because I'm an idiot. I lost the comments I had, and that's sad.