"With tree bark to eat, it's still better than starving. That huge pine forest in the Kingswood should be enough to keep King's Landing going for another two years, right? They have to chop trees for firewood anyway, so they might as well dig up the roots too."
Logan finished all the bread and finally revealed a faint smile.
Pirlo gestured toward the smoked meat hanging on the rack and said slowly, "As long as you're bold enough and have a strong stomach, forget surviving two more years, surviving the Long Night itself won't be a problem.
Thousands upon thousands of wights are terrifying. But isolated wights, groups of dozens or hundreds, only make certain people even happier.
Haven't you noticed?
Lately Randyll Tarly rarely leads the Warrior's Sons out of the city to sweep away wights anymore. Now the city's able-bodied men are imitating the Dragon Queen's volunteer sled teams, forming groups to hunt wights outside the city just like nobles hunting in the woods during summer."
Logan narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "No distinction between man and beast?"
"Did brown stew only appear today?" Pirlo countered.
"I heard that if you eat human flesh, you'll go to the Stranger's hell after death and be punished," Logan said with a frown.
"Then let it punish me. Surviving comes first."
"I need some smoked meat and bread," Logan said.
"What grade would you like? The bread comes in premium white bread and whole wheat bread; mid-grade pine bark bread and bran-bean-cake bread; and low-grade rice husk and sawdust bread.
The smoked meat is also divided by quality. The best is wight magical beast meat, then livestock meat, then ordinary meat of uncertain origin, and the lowest grade is wight flesh."
Pirlo listed them like treasured possessions while pointing to the actual products on the shelves.
"How are the prices?" Logan asked.
Pirlo hesitated for a moment before saying, "You'll be paying with gold dragons, right? That'll probably be expensive. Bartering would be much more worthwhile."
He pointed at the people lined up before the counter buying bread.
"Look, many of them don't even have money. They're holding vouchers issued by our shop.
For example, if you dig up two hundred pounds of cleaned pine root bark outside the city, you can exchange it at my shop for twenty pounds of pine bark bread, or ten pounds of white bread, or thirty pounds of rice husk bread."
"That's far too cheap." Logan looked uncertain. "Two hundred pounds of bark can actually be exchanged for ten pounds of white bread? Aren't you taking a loss?"
"We are, and we aren't," Pirlo said.
"What does that even mean?" Logan asked strangely.
"A strong man working five hours a day can easily dig up one hundred pounds of thick pine root bark. Hiring that man for a day only costs ten copper coins, but even one hundred copper coins can't buy a pound of bread. By that calculation, exchanging one hundred pounds of bark for five pounds of bread is an enormous loss."
Logan nodded lightly. "A complete loss."
"But one hundred pounds of pine root bark can be dried, ground into powder, and turned into roughly twenty pounds of bread. If I exchange twenty pounds of grain for five pounds of bread, I still have fifteen pounds of food left over, right?"
"Well…" Logan froze for a moment. "It looks like fifteen pounds of food remain, but bread and bark don't have the same value!"
"What is value? Anything that can save more lives has value. During the Long Night, what use are gold dragons?
Besides, we're not losing money. The grain is supplied by the Faith. Our bakery is just a contractor making a small profit to survive."
"Uh…" Logan froze again. "The Faith is providing relief for the common people?"
"Exactly."
"They used to distribute grain and bread directly. This method of relief now feels a bit like the Dragon Queen's style," Logan said thoughtfully.
"The septons clearly said this is Saint Daenerys's directive." With the reverent tone of a little Red Guard reciting quotations, Pirlo declared passionately, "Saint Daenerys believes that sitting around consuming resources is worse than building something through hardship. Only production creates hope!
Digging roots, gathering pinecones, killing Others for meat, fishing in the river, all of it counts as production. All of it can be exchanged for bread or smoked meat at my shop.
Under the Long Night, everyone must contribute to the cause of resisting the Others.
The warriors wield dragon-tooth blades and strike down the demons. Common people rely on themselves and create value through labor. That too counts as fighting on the front lines of the war.
That's all what Saint Daenerys said."
Logan's mouth twitched. "Shouldn't the king of King's Landing be Stannis?"
The fat baker froze for a moment before lowering his voice. "He occupies King's Landing now, but he isn't our king."
"The newest issue of the 'Long Night Heroes Ranking' is out!"
At that moment, a boy with frostbite on his face ran through the street waving a parchment scroll while shouting, "The Dragon Queen has announced the freezing of her own points! Stannis rises to first place, and Sansa falls to last place!"
"Hey, Donny, wait a second," the baker hurried out of the shop and stopped the boy. "Let me see the ranking."
"Two copper coins." The boy held up two fingers.
"Fine."
After paying and taking the parchment, the baker cried out in shock, "Lady Sansa has it rough. Arya made her, and Arya ruined her.
Last time she still had over fifty thousand points. This time she directly dropped to negative fifty thousand, dead last.
Stannis was held responsible for the fall of King's Landing, so his thirty thousand points were reduced to five thousand. The Dragon Queen's points are locked, so she temporarily isn't participating in the rankings.
That leaves Stannis still in first place. Everyone else is just too disappointing."
"Didn't Sansa defect to Stannis?" Logan asked in confusion.
"The heretic king doesn't want to carry fifty thousand points of debt," the frostbitten boy laughed.
"Then what were the previous negotiations for?" Logan's mouth twitched again.
"The grain she supplied to King's Landing was real, after all," the fat baker said.
"Sansa must be furious." A trace of worry flashed through Logan's eyes.
"How could she not be?" the boy laughed. "Some people say she fainted from anger. Others say she coughed up three liters of blood. Some say she fell ill, while others claim she merely looked terrible and shut herself in her room to sulk."
"Why did the Dragon Queen freeze her points? After killing millions of wights, she probably could've reached one hundred thousand points by now," the baker muttered.
"She doesn't want other people to despair. Despairing people lose the motivation to kill Others," the boy blurted out.
Seeing the suspicious looks from the two men opposite him, his frostbitten face turned red, and he hurriedly added, "That's what everyone says."
After the boy ran off shouting about the "Heroes Ranking," Logan turned to Fat Pirlo and asked, "Can I use gold dragons to buy tree bark and pinecones from commoners, then exchange them for bread here?"
"That's not allowed." The fat baker shook his head repeatedly. "Every impoverished household in the city has been registered with the Faith. The septons issue them household certificates, and the people use those certificates to exchange for bread at designated district locations."
He pointed at the customers inside the shop.
"They're all original residents of Baker Alley. We're all neighbors. Who doesn't know everyone else?
They go out together and work together. Everyone knows how much they harvest and how much grain they need.
If someone dared to resell goods for profit, the losses would hurt everyone's interests. Do you think the others would allow it?
You probably don't have a poverty certificate issued by the Faith, right?
Without one, I can still do business with you, but if you're buying bread with gold dragons, it'll only be at market price."
"The market price is too expensive." Logan shook his head and sighed.
"You can go to Fisherman's Square and take a look. Some people are strong and hardworking, so they dig up too much root bark and exchange the surplus for wine or leather coats.
With gold dragons, you can buy bark flour cheaper there than at my shop," Pirlo suggested.
Logan had already planned to visit Fisherman's Square. Hearing his old friend's advice, he immediately left the "Wight Bread Bakery."
Just as Pirlo had said, the square was lively. Many residents carried ground bark flour or firewood to general stores in exchange for iron pots, cloth, wine, and other daily necessities.
Some exchanged them directly for money and arranged to go have fun in Eel Alley together that night. Merchants also stood outside shops loudly haggling to purchase bark flour and firewood.
At first, Logan thought those merchants were buying bark flour to hoard it and sell it years later after the forests and grain had all been consumed.
But after asking around carefully, he was stunned to discover they were wine merchants using bark flour to brew alcohol.
"You can really make wine from this?" he asked curiously as he approached.
"Bark flour is nothing. The Dragon Queen even brews alcohol directly from cedar and birch bark," one merchant said indifferently.
"I've never heard of this before." Logan felt as though he were dreaming.
"It was only invented recently. Honestly, it's not that exaggerated. Most grains that can be eaten can also be used to make alcohol."
The general store owner filled half a glass and handed it to Logan.
The pale green transparent liquid carried both the scent of alcohol and pinecones.
Logan took a light sip.
Then his eyes widened in disbelief.
"This really is wine! It tastes even better than Dornish Summer Red."
"Of course it's real wine, but saying it tastes better than Summer Red is going too far," the shop owner shook his head.
"If you drink too much, your stomach feels uncomfortable. They're supposedly still improving the formula," the wine merchant added.
"Being able to drink alcohol during the Long Night is already pretty good," Logan said.
"That's true." The merchant nodded in agreement.
"Sir, how much bark flour would you like to buy?" the general store owner asked.
After asking about the price, Logan pondered for a moment before saying, "I'll take five hundred pounds for now. And smoked meat too. The cheapest kind, wight flesh. Five hundred pounds of that as well."
The shop owner reminded him, "You can't eat bark flour by itself. Eat too much and you won't be able to take a shit. It's best mixed with wheat flour."
Logan smiled. "I bought meat too. If I drink more meat soup, I'll still be able to shit."
Cheapskate!
The general store owner cursed inwardly, then began instructing his workers to load Logan's goods.
"The Crown Princess is here! The Crown Princess is distributing relief grain!"
Suddenly, a rider galloped down the riverside road connecting Aegon's High Hill. The knight wearing the flaming heart insignia repeatedly shouted at the top of his lungs.
He was like a droplet of water falling into a pan of boiling oil at Fisherman's Square.
Residents and merchants nearby rushed out of their homes like madmen, shouting slogans like "Long live the Crown Princess! Long live Princess Mya! Long live His Majesty Stannis!" as they ran toward the eastern hill.
To Logan's surprise, he even saw his old friend Pirlo among the running crowd.
The fat cook led four or five workers and seven or eight older women, all flushed with excitement, waving banners bearing the flaming stag sigil.
"Long live the Crown Princess! Long live Princess Mya! Long live His Majesty Stannis! Long live the Lord of Light!"
The fat man's voice drifted from afar, leaving Logan dazed.
Wasn't he an agent of the Faith?
Wasn't he a devout believer in the Seven?
Wasn't he fluently reciting Daenerys's quotations just moments ago?
Hadn't he just said, "Stannis occupies King's Landing, but he is not my king"?
Logan was bewildered.
And while he stood there confused, the general store owner and workers loading his cart somehow produced a flaming stag banner from some hidden corner and ran outside shouting slogans as well.
Red armor, red cloak, and the flaming stag sigil emblazoned across her chest, the princess rode proudly atop a tall reddish-brown horse like a living flame.
Around her rode forty or fifty Flaming Heart knights, guarding her like stars surrounding the moon. Behind the cavalry stretched a long line of wagons piled high with sacks, dried fish, smoked meat, turnips, ears of corn, and apples.
Gold Cloaks ran alongside the wagons.
The procession stopped at the southern end of Fisherman's Square. Tables were set up and lines formed. Standing atop a platform, the princess raised a hammer and shouted several inspiring words. Then the residents below waved royal banners and roared in unison:
"Long live Saint Mya! Long live His Majesty Stannis! Long live R'hllor!"
Afterward, the residents presented the "hardship certificates" issued by the Faith, and Mya personally scooped out a ladle of wheat for each of them.
Along with roughly three pounds of wheat, they also received dried fish and smoked meat weighing about one pound total, four fist-sized turnips, and either one ear of corn or a somewhat shriveled apple.
The corn and apple were mutually exclusive choices.
The citizens wore happy smiles across their faces. Though the princess distributing relief grain to impoverished households was drenched in sweat from the work, she too wore an honest and joyful smile.
To every single person, she sincerely offered blessings like, "The king stands with you," "We will definitely overcome the Long Night," and "The glory of R'hllor shines upon all of us."
The citizens responded with bows, reverence, tearful gratitude, and praises of "Saint Mya's mercy."
"If Robert had brought her to King's Landing and properly raised her back then, maybe she really could have become a qualified crown princess," Logan sighed.
"True. She's much better than Cersei and Margaery. At least she's strong, sincere, morally upright, and doesn't sleep around. Sigh, it's pitiful that the standards for rulers of the Seven Kingdoms have fallen this low."
Logan suddenly spun around in shock.
"You are… Tyrion? And you all…"
"We are preachers now," the Hound said flatly. "Only you're missing."
(End of Chapter)
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