Three coins lay on Glyn Crabb's table: a Gold Dragon, a Silver Stag, and a Copper Star.
Some simple examples to make it easier to understand the value of each coin would be:
A full suit of plate armor costs at least 16 Gold Dragons.
Chainmail costs at least 6 Gold Dragons.
A good warhorse costs at least 10 Gold Dragons.
One Unsullied costs 100 Gold Dragons, not counting transport.
A meal with meat and a mug of beer costs 20–30 Copper Stars.
A farmer earns about 1 Gold Dragon a year.
The Crabb treasury held a little over 2,000 Gold Dragons in coins. This was cash only; goods stored in warehouses were not counted.
But their debts stood at 5,000 Gold Dragons. The interest paid last year alone was 500 Gold Dragons.
After the War of the Usurper, under the orders of Jon Arryn, the nobles and merchants of the Vale forced loans onto the lords of Crackclaw Point. Officially, this was to "help them survive hard times."
This was also one of the peace terms after the war.
You would never see a single Gold Dragon from that loan. The Vale nobles and merchants treated your own land as the loan's principal.
That was how brutal it was.
You could refuse, of course but the Baratheon armor was not yet put away, and King Robert had not had enough fighting.
The Crabb lands were valued at 5,000 Gold Dragons. Over the years, the Crabb family had already paid 7,500 Gold Dragons in interest.
According to the contract, they still had to pay five more years of interest, another 2,500 Gold Dragons. In the final year, they also had to repay the full 5,000 Gold Dragons.
This was the Red Keep's way of keeping the Crackclaw lords under control.
The name sounded nice—"post-war reconstruction interest." The amount was chosen carefully. It let them barely survive but not grow, keeping them weak without forcing them into open rebellion.
To the Baratheons, a weak and obedient lord of Crackclaw Point was a good lord.
–
The entire Crabb domain had just over 2,000 people. Because mountain clans raided the land year after year, they had to live frugally to keep 200 clan soldiers ready to move at any time.
That was already the absolute limit.
Years of war had twisted the population balance. There were more women than men.
The women here were broad-boned and strong. Most had to farm and hunt like men. Many were spear-women.
As long as weapons were available, these spear-women could also be called to war—to seize gold and seize men.
The Crabb lands were almost a nation of warriors. Leaving only craftsmen and the old and weak behind, they could force a full mobilization of up to 1,500 fighters.
Against the nearby mountain clans—small ones with only dozens of warriors, larger ones with only a few hundred, scattered and disorganized—they could crush them head-on.
Then why farm at all? As the Crabb family saying had been temporarily changed to: "Taking by force is better than slow farming."
The first goal was clear: deal with the mountain clans that had joined together, hoping to take advantage of Glyn's young age and raid his lands.
This battle would be the beginning.
–
The next day, heavy clouds hung low in the sky.
Whispers Castle had a curved shape. Its construction was rough and plain, not elegant.
But it was large enough. In wartime, more than a thousand people from the surrounding lands could shelter inside.
Glyn stood on the castle wall, over twenty meters high, looking down. Steward Herschel and Ser Pell stood quietly behind him.
After King Robert's death, war would surely follow. Whispers Castle needed early planning.
Glyn looked south.
The southern land was flat. It could be built for a population of ten thousand—first one ring, then another. He smiled softly. No need to call it rings.
Lets call it the Inner City.
"Herschel, write this down," Glyn said.
"The fishing village will be renamed Mermaid Harbor."
Steward Herschel faithfully wrote everything down.
"A mermaid has the upper body of a young girl and the lower body of a fish. Her beauty is so great that even the Seven would praise it."
Herschel hesitated and asked, "My lord, could this wording be a little offensive? Some septons are not friendly toward us…"
Glyn, an atheist, had almost said that the Seven would lose their minds when they saw a mermaid. He had already softened his words.
"Thank you for the advice, Herschel."
Glyn paused, then said, "Find some reliable bards. Pass the idea to them. Let them choose the wording. That is their craft."
"Herschel, keep writing. Mermaids love to sing songs passed down through their kind, songs that touch the heart. Mermaids are extremely shy. Only late at night, when no one is around, do they rise from the sea to sing. Their voices sound like…" He paused. "…like music from the heavens."
Glyn had wanted to say they were blessed by the gods. He held back again.
"Mermaids live without worry. They are kind and hopeful. They only cry when they feel deep, unbearable sorrow. When a mermaid cries, her tears turn into the purest pearls in the world—one tear, one pearl."
"A mermaid can only love one person in her life. When she truly falls in love, she makes an oath."
"The oath of love," Glyn said. "Write this carefully. It is very important."
"I am willing to become the beloved of so-and-so. I will love what he loves, think what he thinks, bear pain for him, and endure hardship with him. Whether poor or rich, lowly or noble, whether in times of chaos or when the gods turn away, I will live for him and die for him. I will never leave him, forever."
Steward Herschel and Ser Pell opened their mouths at the same time, their faces full of emotion.
Glyn felt it. They were moved. They believed it.
Could Fishing Village truly be a hidden land of legend?
Seeing this, Glyn changed his plan.
A secret known by only one person is a true secret. If everyone believes it, then let everyone believe it.
So Glyn also believed in the mermaid legend. (TL/N: LOL)
One important detail must not be forgotten: mermaids are the most shy people in the world. Not finding them is perfectly normal.
Come—come to Mermaid Harbor. Come and go mad for mermaids.
"First, gather all the villagers of Fishing Village. Build a simple dock nearby. Find a good place for it. It can be a little far. The key is that large ships must be able to dock."
"Second, build a lighthouse to guide ships in."
"At the same time, we need taverns, inns, and shops. The standards can be low at first, but the functions must be complete. We will earn every single copper star."
"Strong villagers must be armed. The old and weak can be placed in suitable jobs in the shops. We must protect our friendly guests."
"Mermaid Harbor must become more beautiful and more comfortable. We must not disappoint those who come here because of the stories."
"All of this matters."
Herschel seemed to understand at last. "My lord, the longer the mermaid legend spreads, and the farther it reaches, the more people will come to Fishing—no, to Mermaid Harbor. Our leather can be sold directly to buyers. We will no longer be forced into low prices by traveling merchants. And not just leather… Mermaid Harbor will become a trade hub."
"So that is why you are willing to spread the mermaid legend…"
"Yes," Glyn said. "Truth is a Lie. For the growth of the land, some sacrifices are unavoidable. That is my duty as your lord."
"Let the story spread quietly and naturally. I leave it to you."
After speaking, Glyn turned his back to them and stood with his hands behind him, letting out a long sigh.
The hem of his long robe moved with the wind.
Herschel bowed deeply and solemnly.
Pell, wearing plate armor, clenched the hilt of his sword. Veins stood out on the back of his hand as he bowed with Herschel.
(End of chapter)