Chapter 42: The Heir’s Judgment

With Arya asleep upon Wylla’s bed after the demonstration, Jon fetched his coat from the chest. Robb followed him down into the yard.

The horses were coming round while Eddard finished with Arthur. Robb took Jon up the bank. Beyond the palisade two women spread hay the rake had missed, and a boy led a laden donkey towards the crofts.

“Will you build all this again on Dragonstone?” Robb asked.

“Some. There is a castle already.”

“Will there be a stream for your wheels?”

“I shall have to see what I can use.” Jon leaned upon the rail. “I want the harbour enlarged first. There is little sense making more than I can load and send away.”

Robb picked at a rough place in the timber.

“Father asked how you would use them, and you knew. Ser Rodrik asked about the men, and you knew that too.”

“I had been working on them for eight weeks.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jon looked at him. Robb’s face had reddened beneath his freckles.

“At petitions I sit beside Father. A master starts talking about the land he inherited, and I think I understand. Then Father asks something I never thought of, and the whole thing is different. When he asks me afterwards, I have hardly anything to say.”

“What did the man want?”

“An iron mine opened again. Master Merewood had barred the entrance. Wold wanted Father to make him take his men away.”

“And Father?”

“Asked what they had agreed before they found the new seam.” Robb looked out over the hay. “I thought it was a question of whose land it was. I had not asked about the money Wold had put into it.”

“Ask him to let you hear both men before he gives judgment. He may let you ride out with Jory and see the mine for yourself.”

“He might let me.”

“Ask him.”

Robb scraped a curl of wood free with his thumbnail. “I want something of my own to do. Something he needs done.”

“Tell him that. He gives me work readily enough.”

“You ask for three hundred acres.”

“You could begin with the mine.”

Robb shoved him. Jon shoved back, and they stood grinning at one another until a groom called up from below. Eddard had come out upon the stair, with Jory behind him and the six Stark guards mounted in the yard.

As they walked down, Robb asked, “Will you show me the clock you are sending to White Harbor?”

“Come tomorrow. You can help put the case on.”

“I want to see inside.”

“Then come before I put the case on.”

Robb caught his arm. “Tomorrow, then. After I speak to Father.”

Wylla appeared carrying Arya, who had woken cross and was searching the yard for Jon. He went to her before she could call. She caught his white forelock in her fist and pulled his head close enough to whisper.

“Don’t tell Sansa.”

“About the robber?”

Arya nodded against Wylla’s shoulder.

Jon kissed the soot he had missed beside her ear. “You had better remember which song to sing when you get home.”

* * *

Next morning Jon took Otho’s trial account to Winterfell. Rodrik sent him from the training yard to leave it in the solar, where Robb sat with the Rookscar petition and the masters’ agreement beside Eddard.

“Merewood says his ground gives him the right to close the entrance,” Robb said. “Wold says he paid for the work under both their lands.”

“What does their agreement give each of them?” Eddard asked.

“Half the yield, after the costs are paid.” Robb glanced from the petition to the other sheet. “Neither man’s complaint mentions that.”

“Keep the agreement beside you when they speak.” Eddard looked up as Jon approached the desk. Jon laid Otho’s leaves clear of the petition.

“For Rodrik. The rough-road trials are in the middle. He asked to see what failed.”

Eddard read the dirty-edged account of shifting loads and packed timbers. “This is what I wanted Robb to hear yesterday. The work behind the shooting.”

“Henly’s men spent longer packing than at the targets.” Jon sat beside Robb. “When are you hearing them?”

“This afternoon.” Robb put a finger upon the petition. “Tomorrow I am to go with Jory to Rookscar.”

“And bring what you find to me,” Eddard said. “Jory has separated their men. I want you to hear the villagers as well as the masters. Let them finish before you decide which questions to ask.”

Robb put the petition inside his coat while Eddard finished the trial account. They discussed the hollow’s rain and a wagon sunk when its driver cut the edge. Jon traced the next march on the map; his father showed him the spring crossing the ford’s northern approach.

At the stair Robb stopped him. “You have not put the case on?”

“William knows you are coming.”

They rode down with Arthur and Jory. At the Black Yard Robb drew aside for a case carried past a waiting cart. He had expected one clock; three open movements filled the window benches, their parts in separate trays. Olyver showed an apprentice where to smooth a spindle. Another lad turned a wheel while his partner listened for a catch.

William had the White Harbor brothers’ clock running within its bare frame. Its oak door lay upon a folded cloth on the next bench, the brass hinge screws in a little wooden bowl.

“I have left the back loose, my lord,” he told Jon. “You wanted to see it working before we closed it.”

Jon moved aside to let Robb follow the catch as it held and released the wheel.

“It is much quieter than the first one.”

“William has better parts to work with now.” Jon showed him the finer teeth and the small movement of the bar.

“Why have the brothers bought another?” Robb asked. “The first one works.”

“The first stands between their warehouses. They want this one in the hall where they eat.”

Robb looked at the oak door. “So their guests can hear it.”

“Their neighbours can hear the other one already.” Jon lifted the door to show him the opening through which the dial would be seen. “Hold this end.”

They helped William and the joiner lower the case over the frame. Robb held the door while Jon fitted the hinges, then opened it for one last look. William had already gone to the next clock and its waiting apprentice.

Jory came to fetch Robb while Jon wiped the oil from his hands.

“We should go, my lord. Your father will be waiting to hear the masters.”

Robb glanced once more at the finished clock, then checked that the petition was still inside his coat. Jon walked them to the horses. Robb was still asking Jory which master had brought men to the mine first when they rode out.

* * *

Three mornings later, a rider from Winterfell found Jon at breakfast in the Old Watch. Eddard wanted him in the Great Hall for the judgment on the Rookscar dispute. Jon finished his bread while Arthur called for the horses.

Robb met him outside the hall with several folded sheets in his hand. The top one was crowded with writing, with additions squeezed down one margin.

“What did you find at the mine?” Jon asked.

“They took me round the boundary twice. Merewood wanted me to see where his grandfather had cut the entrance. Wold kept bringing me back to the new workings.” Robb shifted the papers into his other hand. “Jory made sure I saw the village as well.”

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“And?”

“Benn, the village elder speaking for Rookscar, took us to the injured carter. The two masters’ men had fought a skirmish on the mine road. Two of the armed men were wounded, and an overturned cart had broken the carter’s leg. His wife had put his leg up on a bench. He kept asking when the mine would open.” Robb looked towards the hall doors. “I could not tell him.”

From within came a burst of angry speech, followed by Luwin’s quieter voice. Robb smoothed a bent corner of his notes against his palm.

“Father read my account last night. He asked what I would do, but he has not told me what he means to give them.”

Jon pushed the door wider and went in beside him.

The tables had been cleared after breakfast, leaving the two masters and the villagers facing the dais. Merewood stood with his hands clasped behind his back; Wold turned as the boys entered. Their voices fell silent. Robb straightened beneath their scrutiny and climbed the steps with his notes held close against his coat.

He moved towards the smaller chair where he usually sat beside his father. Eddard laid a hand upon its back, stopping him. The high seat was empty.

“Father?”

“You have heard both masters and visited the mine with Jory. Sit.”

Eddard took the smaller chair beside it. Luwin waited below the dais with two parchments spread upon a table. Jon stood on Robb’s other side.

“You too,” Eddard told him, indicating a stool. “There are men earning their bread on your land now. You should hear what happens when their masters quarrel.”

Robb sat forward, his hands resting upon the carved wolves.

Master Alaric Merewood of Merewood Hall stood below the dais, broad in the chest and grey in the beard, his nose crooked from a badly healed break. A silver heron clasped his green cloak. Master Edwyn Wold of Briarfield wore finer russet wool with three white thorns. His trimmed beard could not disguise his clenched jaw.

Behind them waited Benn, Rookscar’s headman, with two miners. Jory had admitted the villagers first and now stood by the hearth. Luwin’s parchments flanked the short bar Robb had brought back, beaten from the new seam’s first ore.

“My son will hear your dispute,” Eddard said. “I shall confirm the judgment.”

Merewood bowed. Wold followed, though his eyes lingered on Eddard’s chair.

Robb read from his notes.

“The entrance and upper workings lie upon Merewood land. Master Wold paid for the old passages to be cleared and the new work begun. You agreed to share the yield equally after paying the cost.”

“The yield of the old workings,” Merewood said.

Luwin put a finger upon the longer parchment.

“‘All iron reached through the workings at Rookscar.’ Those are the words beneath your seal.”

“My father’s men dug that entrance. The road is mine. So is the timber above it.”

“And the new seam runs beneath my side of the ridge,” Wold said. “He was content to take half when we were hauling out rubble. Now there is iron worth selling, he discovers that the whole hill belongs to his grandfather.”

“You both knew where the boundary lay when you made the agreement,” Robb said.

“We did not know what lay beneath it,” Merewood answered.

“Neither did I,” Wold said. “I paid to find out.”

Jon watched Robb find the passage he had marked.

“The agreement does not give either of you a greater share if the mine proves richer than expected.”

“And it does not give Master Wold leave to put armed men on my road,” Merewood said.

“After you barred the entrance.”

“To keep you from stealing what was mine.”

Wold stepped towards him, then stopped as Jory left the hearth.

Robb’s fingers tightened upon the arm of the chair.

“Your men fought on the mine road,” he said. “Father had to send Jory to separate them. A carter’s leg was broken, two men were wounded, and the village has had no work for nine days.”

“He might mention whose men overturned the cart,” Wold said.

“Yours were shooting across the road!”

“Enough.” Louder than he intended. Robb steadied his voice. “I saw the cart. I spoke to the man it had fallen on. Neither of you asked after him while you were showing me which stones marked your land.”

Benn lowered his eyes; Merewood glanced at him. Robb put his notes aside.

“You should honour the agreement. Half to each, after the work has been paid for. Your armed men will go home, the entrance will be opened, and the village will return to work. You will make good the injuries and damage you have caused.”

“There is enough to enrich both your houses. You should not need Father to keep you from fighting over it.”

“I will swear to keep the peace, my lord,” Merewood said.

“So will I,” Wold said, looking nowhere near him.

Eddard waited a moment.

“Jon?”

Jon had been watching Wold’s hands. They had relaxed as soon as Robb restored the equal division.

“I agree that neither should take the whole mine,” he said. “But I would change the shares.”

Merewood turned. “To what?”

“Forty parts in a hundred to Merewood Hall. Forty to Briarfield. Twenty to Winterfell.”

Wold’s hands stilled. For the first time he looked directly at Jon.

“Winterfell has put no gold into that mine.”

“It has already had to send men to it.”

“Eight men for a few days.”

“They were sent to stop your men fighting,” Jon replied. “You both called up armed men against another of Lord Stark’s bannermen without his leave. If the mine is returned to you exactly as it was, who keeps it open when you quarrel again?”

“We have offered our oaths,” Merewood said.

Robb glanced at the sealed agreement. “You gave your seals before.”

Merewood’s mouth closed.

“Winterfell should guard the mine,” Jon said, “and appoint the man who records its iron, sales and divisions. Neither master chooses him or pays him privately. The guards answer to Father.”

“And for this,” Wold said, “we surrender a fifth?”

“For that, and for having brought armed men against each other under his peace.”

Jon waited. In his first life he had settled disputes over expensive work, with people depending on his decisions. A man controlling a road, machinery or payments could make an agreement worthless. These two used bows instead of letters, but he recognised the wish to obstruct a partner without suffering the greater loss. Merewood had the entrance; Wold, the money.

“And the cost of working the mine?” Eddard asked.

“Paid before the division. Wages, timber, tools, hauling—what keeps it working. The clerk records those too.”

“Some costs cannot be foreseen,” Wold said.

“Then show him why they are needed.”

“I will not have a clerk who has never held a pick telling my men how to dig.”

“He can ask the men who have,” Jon said, turning towards Benn. “Who oversees the work below?”

Benn glanced at Eddard.

“Answer him,” Eddard said.

“My brother, my lord. He worked there before Master Wold had the lower passage cleared. There are six others who know the workings nearly as well.”

“Then the clerk will have someone to ask.”

Robb turned to Benn. “How long has Rookscar worked the mine?”

“My grandfather took ore from it. His father before him, when there was enough worth digging.”

“And these are the same households working it now?”

“Most of them.”

“The right to work it should remain with Rookscar,” Jon told the masters. Merewood frowned.

“The men are already there.”

“For now,” Jon said. “What stops either of you sending for other workers when the village asks to be paid what it is owed?”

“If a man will not work for the wage offered, another may,” Wold said.

Robb watched Benn twist his cap. “Have you threatened that?”

“I have said I cannot wait upon every man’s demands.”

“What demands?” Eddard asked.

“The wages agreed before the quarrel, my lord,” Benn said quietly. “We have asked for those. And for payment to the men who hauled out the first loads. Some have still had nothing.”

Luwin drew a clean sheet towards him. “Give me their names before you leave.”

“The working right should be in the new grant,” Jon continued. “It belongs to the village of Rookscar, and passes to the households that come after them. Neither house may bring in outsiders to take their places or force them to accept less pay.”

“And if they refuse to work?” Wold asked.

“Then hear why,” Robb said.

Wold looked towards the high seat.

“You stopped the mine while you argued over your share,” Robb said. “They were waiting for money they had already earned.”

“Pay them every seventh day,” Jon added, “at no less than the agreed rates. Before any of our shares. They must not wait for the masters to settle accounts.”

“Our shares?” Eddard asked.

“Winterfell’s too, Father.”

Eddard held his gaze, then turned to Luwin. “Write that plainly.”

“My lord,” Merewood said, “I have no wish to injure my own village. But a right granted without an end—”

“Will prevent your heir from having this quarrel with theirs,” Jon said. “They will know what work belongs to them. You will know what share belongs to your house. Master Wold will know that you cannot close the entrance upon him, because it will be guarded in Lord Stark’s name.”

“And he cannot bring bowmen up my road again?”

“No armed retinue from either house at the mine,” Robb said, looking to Eddard. “The guard should be Father’s alone.”

Eddard inclined his head.

Wold considered that for longer than he had considered anything said about the villagers.

“Who holds the keys to the ore store?”

“The man Winterfell appoints,” Jon answered. “Both houses may have someone present when the iron is weighed and the accounts are read. So may the village. All three should receive a copy.”

“All three?” Merewood repeated.

“The villagers should know what has been set aside for their wages,” Robb said.

Benn looked up sharply. Jon felt a brief warmth towards Robb.

Eddard went down to Luwin’s table and turned the iron bar in his hand.

“Master Merewood, what did you intend to do if Wold refused to withdraw?”

“Hold the road, my lord,” Merewood said, watching the iron.

“With armed men.”

“Yes.”

“Master Wold?”

“I had paid for work he was preventing.”

“That does not answer me.”

Wold swallowed. “I meant to open the entrance.”

“By force.”

“If necessary.”

Eddard set the bar down.

“You came close to beginning a war between two houses sworn to me. Over a mine neither of you had thought worth a quarrel a year ago.”

Neither answered. At his father’s glance, Robb continued.

“The mine will be held under a new grant from Winterfell. Once the workers have been paid and the necessary costs met, two parts in five will go to Merewood Hall, two to Briarfield, and one to Winterfell.”

He slowed for Luwin’s quill. “Winterfell will guard it and keep the accounts. Neither house may bring armed men or obstruct the work. Rookscar alone holds the working right. Its people receive the agreed wages every seventh day, before the shares.”

“Before reopening, the two houses must pay all money owed, the cost of the damaged cart and care for the injured.” Robb turned to Eddard. “That is my judgment.”

“I confirm it,” Eddard said.

Wold drew breath, but Eddard faced him.

“You keep two-fifths of the yield, secure access, accounts you can inspect and no need to hire men against your neighbour. Do you wish to reopen the matter?”

“No, my lord.” Wold bowed; Merewood followed.

“You will remain at Winterfell until the grant is ready,” Eddard continued. “Jory will carry my orders to your men today. The villagers’ wages will be reckoned this afternoon.”

Luwin beckoned Benn to the table. Passing the masters, the headman held his cap loose in his hands.

* * *

When Jory had taken the masters from the hall, Robb sat back in the high seat.

“I thought they would be ashamed.”

“They were,” Eddard said.

“Not enough to agree until Jon took a fifth from them.”

“They had agreed already,” Jon said. “Neither told us what he would do differently at home.”

Robb looked towards the doors.

“I would have kept my word.”

“I know.”

For a little while Robb said nothing. Below the dais, Luwin asked Benn for the name of the injured carter. One of the other villagers leaned over the table to help him count the days for which wages were owed.

“Will twenty parts be enough for the guard and the clerk?” Robb asked.

“For a modest guard, if the mine earns anything like what those two expect,” Eddard said. “Luwin will examine the figures. We shall not build a new castle because two masters could not behave themselves.”

“And if there is money left?”

“It belongs to Winterfell,” Eddard answered.

Jon watched his brother consider the revenue. In his first life he had known how wages and open roads could bind power to a treasury. Robb was beginning to see those connections for himself.

Eddard handed Robb the original agreement.

“Read this beside the new grant when Luwin has finished. You will go with Jory when the mine opens again.”

Robb accepted it.

“On the day the men are paid?”

“That would be a good day.”

Robb rose and went down to Luwin’s table. He waited for Benn to finish speaking, then asked how far the injured carter lived from the village.