Chapter 74: Gold Against Hunger
The hall of House Manderly remained heavy with silence.
Not the silence of confusion anymore.
The silence of calculation.
The Northern lords had stopped questioning whether Winter's Heaven was real. The impossible ship resting beyond White Harbor had ended that debate before it truly began.
Now, they were thinking about something far more dangerous.
Opportunity.
Jon Snow sat calmly at the opposite end of the long table, black cloak resting against the stone-backed chair behind him. Beside him stood Alex, several parchments spread neatly across the table, while the two armored knights behind them remained motionless as statues.
Outside, faintly, the deep horn of Winter's Titan echoed across the harbor.
The sound alone unsettled men.
Wyman Manderly cleared his throat heavily.
"You spoke of trade," he said carefully. "Then let us speak plainly."
Jon nodded once.
"The North lacks grain," he said directly.
Several lords frowned immediately.
No northerner enjoyed hearing weakness spoken aloud.
Yet no one interrupted him.
Jon's gaze moved across the hall slowly.
"Every harsh winter forces the North to purchase food from the Reach," he continued. "And every winter, the Reach raises prices."
A few expressions darkened.
That part was true.
Painfully true.
The fertile southern lands of The Reach produced more grain than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms combined. During winter, northern dependence became unavoidable.
And southern merchants knew it.
"They bleed us every winter," Greatjon Umber growled. "Fat southern bastards charging silver for grain that should cost copper."
Several lords muttered agreement.
"The transport alone costs fortunes," Galbart Glover added grimly. "And half the shipments arrive spoiled by snow or sea."
Wyman Manderly nodded heavily. "Some winters, grain prices rise fivefold."
"Sometimes more," Maege Mormont said coldly. "Especially after poor harvests."
Jon listened quietly.
Then he spoke.
"Winter's Heaven can solve that."
Silence returned immediately.
Alex stepped forward smoothly.
"Our grain production exceeds our consumption by massive margins," he explained. "Even after maintaining emergency reserves."
Roose Bolton's pale eyes narrowed slightly. "How massive?"
Alex answered calmly.
"We can feed the entire North for years."
The hall froze.
Not because they fully believed him.
But because of how casually he said it.
Jon leaned slightly forward.
"The Reach profits because the North has no alternative," he said evenly. "That changes now."
Greatjon snorted. "And why would your prices be lower?"
Jon answered without hesitation.
"Because we are not transporting grain across half a continent with wooden fleets dependent on wind."
Again, several lords fell quiet.
Winter's Titan.
That monstrous ship changed everything.
Alex unrolled another parchment.
"These are projected prices," he said calmly.
The nearest lords leaned forward first.
Then more.
Then nearly everyone.
Confusion spread immediately.
"These numbers are wrong," Harrion Karstark said flatly.
"They are correct," Alex replied.
"Impossible," Barbrey Dustin muttered.
The prices were absurdly low.
Not cheap enough to look suspicious.
But low enough to feel unreal compared to Reach grain markets.
Wyman Manderly reread the parchment twice.
"You could still profit at these prices?" he asked slowly.
"Yes," Alex answered.
That disturbed them more than anything else.
The Reach charged enormous prices because northern demand allowed it.
But Winter's Heaven…
Winter's Heaven apparently did not need desperation to profit.
"We produce at scale the South cannot match," Alex explained. "Large agricultural districts. Controlled storage systems. Efficient transportation."
Most lords understood only fragments of those words.
But they understood results.
Cheap grain.
Reliable grain.
Winter grain.
Greatjon leaned forward heavily.
"And you can truly supply all of us?"
Jon met his gaze calmly.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Just certainty.
Robb studied Jon quietly from beside Ned Stark.
There was something terrifying about how calm Jon remained while discussing matters capable of reshaping the North forever.
This was not boasting.
It was administration.
Maege Mormont folded her arms.
"And what do you want in return?"
Finally.
The true heart of trade.
"Horses," Jon said.
Simple.
Direct.
"Horses in large quantities."
Several brows rose.
"And sheep," Alex added. "Particularly northern breeds capable of surviving harsh climates."
"Why sheep?" Galbart Glover asked.
"Wool," Alex answered immediately. "Textiles. Winter clothing production. Breeding programs."
Jon continued calmly.
"We are expanding logistics, cavalry movement, livestock production, and industrial textile systems."
Half the hall barely understood what industrial textile systems meant.
But horses?
They understood horses.
The North possessed hardy northern breeds that could survive terrain southern horses struggled with.
Greatjon rubbed his beard.
"And you'll pay fair?"
Alex actually smiled slightly.
"Above fair."
That caused immediate interest.
Not cautious interest.
Real interest.
"What kind of prices?" Wyman asked carefully.
Alex slid another parchment across the table.
This time the reaction was immediate.
Even Roose Bolton's expression shifted slightly.
"That's generous," Maege Mormont said slowly.
"No," Alex corrected politely.
"It's strategic."
Jon rested one arm against the chair beside him.
"The North has resources we want," he said calmly. "Winter's Heaven has resources the North needs."
"That sounds dangerously close to dependence," Roose Bolton said softly.
The hall quieted again.
Jon looked directly at him.
"The Reach already profits from northern dependence," Jon said evenly.
No emotion.
No aggression.
Just truth.
"At least with me," Jon continued, "the North deals with someone who understands winter."
Several lords exchanged glances at that.
Because he was right.
The southern kingdoms treated northern suffering as seasonal profit.
Jon Snow did not.
Ned Stark finally spoke.
"If grain can enter the North at stable prices," he said carefully, "then fewer people starve during long winters."
The room grew quieter after that.
Because no lord could openly argue against feeding their people.
Not after years of watching villages suffer every winter.
Wyman Manderly exhaled deeply.
"The Reach will not like this."
Jon's expression remained calm.
"I did not come to ask permission from the Reach."
That sentence settled heavily across the hall.
Not arrogant.
Worse.
Confident.
Outside, far beyond the harbor, Winter's Titan rested upon the sea like a silent mountain of iron and steam.
A kingdom beyond the Wall.
A kingdom with grain cheaper than the Reach.
Gold deeper than mines.
Ships larger than cities.
And for the first time in generations—
The North was no longer forced to kneel before southern harvests.
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