269 AC - Aegon's Conquest
The cold, salty sea breeze of Ironman's Bay now carried a new scent: the burning aroma of gold and power. Pyke's docks had never been so alive. Merchant masts from across the Seven Kingdoms and even the Free Cities crowded the harbor like a wooden forest, their sails blotting out the sky.
The thud of ship planks striking the stone quays, sailors' shanties, merchants haggling, and the crisp chime of gold and silver coins blended into a new symphony—one the Ironborn had never known. The air was thick with spices, whale oil, rust, and the intoxicating smell of wealth.
In just two years, the once-empty port had transformed into the beating heart of Ironborn commerce.
...
Inside Pyke's central keep, in a vast study overlooking the bustling docks and the deep Sea Stone Hall, a quieter storm brewed.
Quellon Greyjoy, Lord of Pyke, stood behind the black stone desk, placing two heavy seals before his son. One bore a roaring kraken entwined with a pattern of salt crystals; the other, a blood-stained battle-axe wrapped in chains. These were not mere symbols—they were the embodiment of power itself.
"Take them," Quellon said, his voice low, carrying the weight of trust and expectation. "The Salt's Blessing. The Sea's Old Way. The future course of the Iron Islands is yours to steer."
Across the desk, Euron, now seven namedays old, sat composed, his deep ink-green kraken robe hanging neatly around him. His expression remained calm. He did not reach for the seals immediately—he merely nodded, as though accepting two idle tokens.
Two years ago, when Euron—only five namedays old at the time—proposed the Refined Salt strategy amidst a storm of doubt, few believed him.
Now, with undeniable results, he had silenced every skeptic. Salt authority had become the invisible chains of commerce.
Euron did not indulge in pride. Clear-headed as a blade against stone, he forged power into cold commerce and dominion.
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[First Iron Law – Anchor of Binding:]
Any lord or merchant wishing to buy Refined Salt first had to take several times their allotment of common Pyke salt. Grayish-white and cheap, it tied all trade to Pyke's will.
Lord Garrik Botley of Salt Cliff Island resisted, hoarding coarse salt. But without Refined Salt, channels for mainland gold and grain dried up. Warehouses overflowed, profits slipped away, and grudgingly, he bent to the rule.
[Second Iron Law – Price Barrier:]
Coarse salt stayed cheap for common folk, enough to keep hearths warm and bellies full. Refined Salt became a luxury: sea-white salt in carved wooden boxes or stone basins, marked with the kraken and Drowned God's sigil. One container could fetch its weight in silver from King's Landing to Oldtown and Braavos. Price and prestige alike answered to Pyke's control.
[Third Iron Law – Salt Chain:]
Through the Ironhold Merchant League, Euron claimed every grain of Ironborn salt and barred any outsiders. Monopoly meant he set the price, took the profits, and made sure loyalty came from need, not love. Garrik Botley might scowl, but he had no choice.
The old ways, sharpened for the new age, gave Euron the edge. Raids were handed out like rewards—or punishments. Loyal lords, like Hrothgar Drumm of Wick, struck rich spice ships and slave fleets. Weak or disobedient men, like Korren Blacktyde, got only scraps or danger.
...
Euron alone knew every shipping lane and spy network, letting him squeeze wealth with ruthless precision. Tribute flowed to Pyke, while the Ironhold Merchant League fenced goods and kept salt and treasure moving only where he allowed.
Its banner—a black kraken crushing a red battle-axe in its tentacles—struck fear across the Narrow Sea.
On the surface, the League traded Ironborn salt, ironware, and dried herring for grain, timber, and cloth. Beneath, the true wealth moved unseen: raided spoils, captured treasures, and controlled supplies for the Ironborn fleet.
In two short years, Pyke's coffers overflowed, gold surpassing a decade of raids and trade. From the high stone window, Quellon saw sails crowd the harbor, cargo stacked like cliffs, and heard the relentless clink of coin. Euron—the boy who had dared the salt plan—now commanded the archipelago. Through shrewd monopoly and calculated raids, he bound wealth, loyalty, and fear to Pyke's hold like iron chains.
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📚 Author's Note:
Shoutout to m4l1k0v for gifting 3 Power Stones!
🐧