TYWIN
The King's Solar felt warm today, illuminated by the sunlight entering through the arched glass windows. There were four men sitting on the sofas encircling a low wooden table. King Rhaegar Targaryen sat in a relaxed posture, a silver goblet in his hand. Opposite him, Lord Steffon was leaning back with crossed legs, while Jaime sat in an armchair, tapping his fingers on the armrest to a rhythm only he himself knew.
And Tywin Lannister sat among them all, his eyes focused on a piece of paper that had just arrived this morning.
It was a report from Lord Hoster Tully. His handwriting was firm and slightly hurried. The report detailed the results of the cleanup operation in the Riverlands. The Riverrun forces had successfully destroyed several troublesome rebel groups. Most of their leaders had been beheaded, and the surviving remnants had been put in chains.
Hoster reported that most of them were being marched towards the North, sent to the Wall to take the vow and join the Night's Watch. But not all of them.
Tywin turned the paper over, looking at the note on the number of prisoners. Most of them would be sent to the Crownlands first at Tywin's own request.
He folded the letter and placed it on the table. In his head, numbers had already started spinning. Hundreds of pairs of extra hands. Hands that were at least only paid with rations of porridge and bread. They would begin to accelerate the execution of the Kingsroad construction project, the main highway that would connect King's Landing to all corners of the continent. That construction required massively extraordinary manual labor, and these people were the answer.
At least, thought Tywin while sipping water, these people were not doing futile work by rotting on the gallows. At least, their blood and sweat would make this realm's infrastructure easier and faster to complete.
"With the arrival of these prisoners from the Riverlands," said Tywin, cutting the pleasantries, "we will have more than three hundred extra laborers in the Crownlands next week. That will save many gold dragons from the royal treasury."
"Three hundred men," Rhaegar mused, putting down his glass and staring out the window, his mind clearly working hard. "With the large number of people coming, we also need many people to supervise them, do we not? They are forced-labor prisoners, not hired coolies who come voluntarily. If unsupervised, they will escape or trigger new riots along the Kingsroad."
"Yes, we need to record many things about them," Steffon nodded. "Especially with every kilometer of road we will build simultaneously. If we split them into ten different camps, we need to build secure encampments, record a constant flow of supplies, and then... of course we need capable foremen. Very capable. So that this road truly meets straight and merges flawlessly."
"That is the most pressing problem," Rhaegar agreed, sighing softly. "Even though schools have been built for a few years, I am quite sure we only have a few graduating classes decent enough for such a task."
Rhaegar turned back towards the table. "Most of our graduates today are still very young. Children who have just learned to count and read basic instructions. They are not yet experienced enough to lead projects or supervise thousands of rough men. So, from the school projections, we might only be able to recruit half of them at most, right? That is also if we are very certain that they currently indeed want to take on rough duties outside the city."
"So you mean a quarter, Your Grace," Tywin added flatly. "If you target half, prepare to get only a quarter who are truly competent. And the rest will cry in the first week from sleeping in leaky tents."
Rhaegar smiled bitterly. "Yes, it seems quite clear. Your math never misses, Lord Tywin. What must we do then? This work cannot be delayed, but we lack educated supervisory staff. Any suggestions?"
Opposite Tywin, Jaime leaned forward. The young man's elbows rested on his knees. He knew that posture. It was the posture that always preceded a new idea. His son had an idea, and he was not surprised at all.
"The duties of supervising supplies, recording workers, and counting materials like this certainly cannot be taken by just any coolie," Jaime began, his voice calm. "We need someone who understands numbers quite well, or at least understands most of basic management. What if we recruit the sons of nobles?"
Rhaegar's eyebrows raised slightly. Steffon looked at Jaime with great interest.
"Not the heir sons, of course," continued Jaime, laying out his plan. "But second, third sons, and so on. Landless cousins. Most of them currently do not have a clear life purpose. Especially for young men coming from a poor House. But we can agree that all of them, due to their birth status, at least can read writing, count coins, and also have a little understanding in terms of leadership because they were raised in castles."
Tywin understood where this conversation was heading, and he immediately agreed in his head. It was indeed a very interesting idea.
The Lannister family themselves had many such 'useless people' in Lannisport, distant cousins expecting allowances from Casterly Rock. Most of them were certainly useless on the battlefield; they were all arrogant, only knew how to waste money in brothels, and complained about wine quality. But, they were indeed far more capable in an administrative task compared to commoners who had just learned to hold a pen.
"Ah," Rhaegar smiled thinly, shaking his head slightly. "Your idea is good, Jaime. But most of them will definitely refuse fiercely. After all, in their eyes, this is just road-building work. It is dirty work. They are knights and lordlings. Their prestige is too high to camp with criminals."
"I think... not so, Your Grace," said Steffon, his heavy voice making them all look at him.
"Yes, those haughty young men will whine and refuse at first," continued Steffon, stroking his beard. "But most will eventually accept it. I have a strong guess how their fathers will react to this. It might sound like just road-building work, but the invitation comes directly from you, Your Grace. The royal seal. And they also don't have many choices."
Steffon laughed softly. "Especially for a petty Lord who has too many sons but his land is too small. Trust me. Those fathers will definitely force and push this onto their children. Of course, rather than letting those children keep sitting idle in the castle without producing anything."
Tywin saw a gap to perfect the plan. He knew the biggest weakness of lesser nobles: vanity.
"And let us give them uniforms," Tywin snorted. "Make them official-looking uniforms, perhaps with the royal sigil on the chest. Give them important-sounding titles, like 'Royal Logistics Overseer'. This will trick their prestige. The uniform will make them look luxurious and confident, making them feel they are carrying out an important state mission rather than just supervising piles of gravel and road construction."
Rhaegar frowned. "With such special treatment, they will become more arrogant. What if they act arbitrarily towards the workers instead? We are dealing with desperate people; unreasoned torture will trigger bloody riots."
"That will not happen if we place them in the correct chain of command," said Jaime quickly. "What we need most directly in the field are foremen. And those young nobles will not be the main foremen holding whips or giving direct instructions."
Jaime tapped the table. "Those nobles are only tasked behind the camp desks. Recording bricks, handling food supplies, and smaller administrative things. They are beneath or technically equal to the main foremen. And those expert foremen are mostly from the common folk, senior workers. So we can rely on those foremen to manage the course of the project and report if any noble crosses the line. And as double insurance, we certainly send a few veteran soldiers there to oversee security and ensure no young master acts overly authoritative."
Rhaegar listened to the explanation intently. He looked at Tywin, Steffon, then back at Jaime.
"Ah, very well," Rhaegar nodded, the tension on his face fading slightly. "For now, we will focus on that method first, and see how it is implemented in the field. If there are flaws, we can think of a better solution later. But at least, for now, it sounds very reasonable and can be executed immediately."
Rhaegar raised his goblet. "Let us make those young nobles work."
Steffon laughed, shaking his head. "I came to think of Stannis because we are talking about this."
Tywin raised one eyebrow. "Stannis? You want to make him work overseeing roads?"
"Yes," Steffon nodded firmly. "I know that in Storm's End right now, the one working hardest managing the ledgers and the castle is actually him. Robert... well, he is capable, but still, Robert is Robert."
"Also," he continued, "maybe if I pull Stannis to the Crownlands and make him take this big responsibility, Robert will be forced to get out of his bed and try harder in terms of ruling. He won't have a younger brother he can burden with dirty work. Plus, I think this could also help get Stannis out of his brother's shadow. He needs his own place to prove himself."
"Ah," Rhaegar smiled, looking at Steffon with approval. "I think that is a very good thing, Lord Steffon. If indeed that will happen, I will welcome it. Stannis looks very capable and meticulous in matters smelling of discipline like this."
"Yes, he is indeed like that," said Steffon. "And this can also make him socialize further with nobles from other regions. You know yourselves how he is, right? If he is left continuously in Storm's End, he will turn into a rock that always scowls."
"He is a stern boy," interrupted Tywin.
It had been a long time since Tywin saw Stannis, but that was indeed the impression he remembered most about the boy. A man like Stannis would never accept bribes from foremen, and he would not hesitate to whip a prisoner who tried to run. He was a perfect overseer.
...
Tywin walked out of the King's solar, Jaime walking beside him, adjusting his steps to his father's steady rhythm. One by one, internal problems had started to be resolved today. However, inside Tywin's head that never slept, he still had to think of various ways to overcome external enemies trying to strangle him.
First, the pirates in the Stepstones and Narrow Sea funded by the merchants. Tywin had handled that for now. Their merchant ships were now heavily guarded more than ever; every trade galleon was escorted by fully armed warships.
But just defending was never Tywin's style. He wanted to strike back.
Tywin had considered discussing with Rhaegar, then sending a raven to Pyke, ordering the Ironborn fleet to conduct retaliatory raids on the coasts of the free cities in Essos. Letting mad dogs loose from their chains to bite the enemy. But currently, he was still thinking about the positive and negative impacts. The Ironborn were too hard to control. If they felt too powerful, they might turn around and raid Lannisport. That risk was still too great.
Second, and more subtle. A few weeks ago, without the Small Council's knowledge, he had sent several of his confidants, to infiltrate the free cities.
The people in those free cities relied heavily on slave labor to run the economy and luxury of their cities. Farms, mines, even their beds, everything was driven by slaves. So, Tywin decided to see how those fat men would react if they felt the same panic as happened here.
Tywin instructed his men to distribute cheap weapons and gold coins in the slave districts. He would try to make those slaves rebel. Tywin knew that such an operation would cost a lot, and as a realistic man, he also didn't really expect the rebellion to successfully topple those cities.
But Tywin was not aiming for military victory; he was aiming for psychological terror. He just thought it might at least teach them a lesson and could send a very clear message: 'I know what you have done in Westeros, and I can destroy the foundation of your house from the inside.'
So, if those Essos merchants dared to continue funding the remnants of the bandits in Westeros, Tywin would not hesitate to play more seriously and destroy their market permanently.
"I didn't expect that Lord Steffon would really let Stannis do that job," said Jaime suddenly, breaking the silence between them as they descended the stairs. His voice was calm, halting Tywin's thoughts.
"Why wouldn't you expect it?" asked Tywin without turning.
"It's just that, well, he is not just any Lord's son, a second son indeed, but still," Jaime smiled. "This will convince other nobles faster to send their children. Because a Lord Paramount's son, Baratheon blood himself leads and accepts the job. This will create a wave of trend among young nobles. Not that it is bad, of course. It makes my idea run smoother."
"Steffon will not let Stannis go too far from his supervision," answered Tywin flatly. "At most he will be assigned to Kingsroad camps not far from King's Landing. And also, it is indeed true what Steffon said about his heir. Robert, needs to serve his own duty managing his territory. He is the heir to Storm's End, he cannot continuously waste day after day just to honeymoon with that Stark girl while his own land demands attention."
Jaime laughed softly. "They just got married and are in love, Father. You don't have to be so cynical about other people's happiness."
Tywin stopped his steps for a moment. He turned, staring at his son with a pair of cold green eyes.
"Love should not displace duty," snorted Tywin. "Obligations to family and a great name always come first. Remember that well."
Jaime nodded slowly, his smile fading slightly. He then cleared his throat, changing the subject.
"Speaking of the Stark family," said Jaime. "Have you considered forging a closer cooperation with them, Father?"
Tywin resumed walking. "Of course. Lord Rickard Stark has vast territory and countless sheep. They have a lot of raw wool. That is very useful to be processed in our textile industry manufactories in Lannisport. Why do you ask this specifically?"
"I am just thinking ahead," Jaime rubbed his chin, formulating words. "With you having agreed to share the recipe for glassmaking and other building techniques to King Rhaegar, can we also bargain directly with Lord Stark?"
Tywin glanced at his son, waiting for the continuation.
"The North is very freezing, Father," explained Jaime. "They struggle to grow decent food as winter approaches. They desperately need greenhouses to be able to grow vegetables amidst the snow. And because of that, our clear glass can become our diplomatic weapon."
Jaime leaned his body slightly closer to Tywin. "We can build greenhouses for Winterfell and several main Northern castles at a subsidized price, or even give them as goodwill. This can be our bargaining chip to secure a monopoly on wool and timber from them at a much cheaper and easier price. Northerners are famously holding fast to honor, they say. A service this great, saving them from winter starvation, will not simply shrink from their minds, will it? They will owe a debt of gratitude to Casterly Rock."
Hearing that explanation, Tywin's steps slowed invisibly. The North was indeed very vast, even though its climate was so cold and sparsely populated compared to the South. But they had untouched natural potential. Potential that might become very useful and highly valuable in the future once science and distribution routes also continued to develop.
Well, that would certainly take a long time, maybe decades... but if executed, there was nothing to lose.
"We will think about that later, Jaime," snorted Tywin. He stopped the conversation.
...
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