Chapter 224: The Power of Money
The Wall stood a thousand miles from King's Landing. Across such a vast distance, Egger dared not attempt to micromanage through remote commands, avoiding the classic mistake made by so many in management—he decided to trust his clever girl for once. He sent a reply encouraging Nina's work and laid out a series of clear requirements: process the wildfire and ship it north as soon as possible, funnel surplus funds to Queenscrown along with the monthly supply shipments, and regularly select trained recruits who were willing to head north to report for duty. As for the rest of the operational minutiae of the Night's Watch industries in the capital, he left it to the discretion of Tyrion's apprentice.
Egger had more important matters to attend to. He had once envisioned a grand scheme for managing the Wildlings should they be allowed through the Wall, but plans rarely keep pace with change. Instead, it was the mountain clans who were settling the Gift first. It mattered little; people were people, and the same framework could be applied to the clansmen. In fact, due to the existing close relationship, the margin for error was higher. He could use this as a trial run to master the art of governance from scratch.
For a long time to come, he would likely be busy beyond measure.
Because the stakes were so high and he lacked a reliable pool of administrators to delegate to, he had to handle everything personally. First, he consulted with the Chief Builder to secure the craftsmen needed to oversee the repair of the abandoned forts. Then, he checked with the stewards regarding the Watch's own stockpiles. Egger had gold, but gold cannot instantly transform into grain; in the initial phase of the clansmen's settlement, everything would have to be cushioned by the stores in the Night's Watch larders.
Shelter was merely the baseline. To maintain the entire defensive system of the Wall, there had to be a sufficient supply of food and materiel. The Gift could not grow crops in the dead of winter and lacked its own production capacity, meaning a complete, well-functioning supply chain was required to constantly transport life into the region. For many reasons, Egger wanted to keep this lifeline of the Watch firmly in his own hands. To put it simply: he had no desire to do all the work only for someone else to reap the rewards.
Thus, Queenscrown became the pivot once again.
Returning to this so-called Night's Watch logistics outpost after ten days, the place had already undergone significant changes. The ruins of the original inhabitants scattered along the shores of the pocket-sized lake had been completely cleared away. In their place stood a stone wall, built from the salvaged masonry, which was nearing completion. Busy figures of the builders stationed there could be seen moving about.
Perhaps because of the stone wall, or perhaps because the soldiers Egger left behind served as a deterrent, Wildlings had appeared nearby several times but made no attempt to raid. Instead, they had passed by directly, fleeing south.
"Well done, Yam," Egger said approvingly. "Next, focus on raising the wall higher. It won't be long before this becomes the mandatory gateway for supplies heading north and the trade hub upon which the new residents of the Gift will depend for their survival."
"New residents of the Gift? A trade hub? My lord, I'm a bit lost there."
"I've recruited the clansmen from the western mountains as reinforcements against the Wildlings." Egger held nothing back from his own man, recounting the sequence of events. "I promised to feed every clan member who leaves the mountains. However, to prevent them from 'hiding their own grain and eating only the Watch's,' I don't intend to provide food directly. Instead, I'll give them money and have them come to the logistics hub to decide for themselves what to buy."
"But what difference does that make?"
"It makes all the difference. If they lack grain, they can spend all their money on it. But if their own stores are still plentiful, they can choose to spend that money on clothing, household goods, weapons, or other items," Egger explained. "This way, we avoid potential waste and reduce the pressure on our supply lines. It also brings another benefit: once the clansmen realize money can buy so much, yet I only pay them a monthly stipend just enough to fill their bellies, they will find ways to earn more."
"But in a desolate place like the Gift, where will they get money... other than by robbing us?"
"Two channels. The first is selling the mountain resources they control. They can bring timber, furs, and ore to sell to the logistics department. We can use them ourselves or ship them south to turn a profit and subsidize the industries," Egger explained to his steward as he toured the rising New Queenscrown. "The second possibility is my main objective—I will provide them with work. As invited allies, I can't force them to perform hard labor for the Watch for free, but I can use wages as bait to entice them to work: patrolling, repairing the Wall, building roads, and construction. Where I come from, this is called 'work-for-relief'."
"I see!" Yam's spirits lifted. "Compared to southerners, the clansmen will be incredibly cheap labor. A brilliant stratagem, my lord!"
"Beyond that, I might eventually manufacture some social pressure—for instance, the idea that a young man must have a 'house and a horse'... bah, I mean a house, a horse, and forged steel weapons before he's fit to marry. By creating a proactive environment where more work leads to more gain and everyone compares themselves to their neighbor, I'll drive the new residents to strive and work of their own accord."
...
You can even do it that way? To someone of this world, such statecraft—the kind only modern rulers have mastered—sounded like an incomprehensible, divine plan. Yam imagined the scenario and his jaw dropped. "This... will it work?"
"Whether it works or not, I'm not entirely sure. You can't be too obvious with cultural engineering. When the time is ripe, you just guide the trend... it happens naturally. I'm warning you now—keep this to yourself. I wouldn't want our friends in the Watch to think I'm exploiting them." Egger nodded. "Actually, the Wildlings were my original target; they could have been even cheaper, nearly free labor. Alas... let's not speak of that. Is there anything else to report?"
"Oh... yes. Ser Rodrik Cassel of Winterfell has taken Hornwood. He executed the Bolton bastard who murdered Lady Hornwood and has returned the soldiers you lent him. They arrived at Queenscrown yesterday as instructed. I was just about to send word to Castle Black to ask how to handle them when you arrived."
"The Bolton bastard was executed?" Egger asked, his brow furrowing. His intuition told him things weren't that simple. "Are you certain? Were there any captives?"
"It seems there was one fellow called 'Reek'... the castellan of Winterfell, considering the Wall's shortage of men, had that squad bring him along with several other prisoners from the dungeons. I don't know the specifics. Shall I call the soldiers for questioning?"
Egger's eyes narrowed as he vaguely recalled certain plot points. "Yes. And bring that man called Reek up as well."
A moment later, the few dozen soldiers Robb had allocated to Egger—and whom Ser Rodrik had borrowed—assembled in the small, newly built square of Queenscrown. They dragged forward a somewhat stout young man with thick, wet lips and long hair... who smelled strongly of excrement.
"Is this the captive you took when you finished off the Bolton bastard?" Egger looked down with a cold expression at the foul-smelling prisoner before him.
In the original story, Ramsay Snow had swapped clothes with Reek and smeared himself with dung when the Winterfell men came to arrest him, successfully deceiving Ser Rodrik to save his life. Later, he was freed during Theon's surprise attack on Winterfell and went on to commit a string of atrocities, including the slaughter and burning of the castle.
People in this world bore no resemblance to television actors. Egger was now wondering: Is this fellow before me actually the Bastard of Bolton?
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