Dreadfort Castle
POV of Domeric Bolton
"I did not know that the Boltons had a Valyrian Sword of their own." Lord Stark murmured in wonder as he gazed at the Valyrian Steel sword being held by a thick sheet of glass that was further reinforced with magical runes so that it wouldn't break even if a nuclear bomb fell upon Dreadfort Castle.
"It's not really a secret," Domeric said with a shrug. "After all, it's just there. Sitting in a display behind the glass wall in the study. Anyone who comes here can see it and I guess most of my people already know about it. It's a wonder the news about it has not already spread throughout Westeros."
Of course, this wasn't the real Valyrian Sword of Domeric. He carried the real one with him. This one was just a transfigured replica for display purposes.
"Hmm... Does it have a name?" Lord Stark asked.
"Excalibur." He said with a nod. "Named after a legendary sword in history."
Lord Stark raised an eyebrow at that, probably because he didn't know the legend Domeric was talking about but didn't comment on his words. Today's main subject was something else and looks like Lord Stark didn't want to move on to other topics.
A long silence ensued between the two of them as Domeric gazed outside the window at the people working in the town down below while Lord Stark gazed at the newly built Valyrian Sword replica, although he didn't know that it was a replica.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do for this whole mess?" Lord Stark asked in a tired voice after a long moment, breaking the silence between them.
"Yeah. I have." Domeric said, turning to look at the lord who was gazing intensely at him now.
"And you have a solution to solve this civil unrest?" Lord Stark asked.
He shrugged in reply. "First thing first. I think we can both agree on the fact that none of this is the fault of House Bolton. The people who came to live in my lands, the people whom I welcomed with open arms did so because they saw a better life for themselves and their children in my lands. And despite how the lords of these lands might treat their subjects, the truth remains that the smallfolk are not our slaves. They're free people and are free to do with lives as they please."
Lord Stark reluctantly nodded at his words and was about to open his mouth before he cut him off.
"That said. It is also true that the lords in these lands rely on the peasants and the tax paid by them to sustain their households. And it is also the truth that despite all the flowery words I've said, I'm the one who has gained the most from this mass migration."
A population increase of 200,000 people in fact. A number that would only go up and up in the upcoming years.
He, himself had been shocked to hear that in the past two years, the amount of people living in his lands had grown by 25% thanks to the immigrants from other lands who came to his lands for more work and better life.
Well, this was his plan from the beginning. He didn't coerce or kidnap the smallfolk, but his appointed men were secretly praising his lands to smallfolk who lived at other lords' lands in past years.
He just... didn't know that the problem was so severe.
The North itself only boasted a population of about 5 million people in total. So, the fact that 4% of people migrated to his lands in the past 2 years was not a small thing at all.
In hindsight, he should have noticed that such a large number of people flocking to his lands for the work and gold he was offering would definitely cause some friction.
Oh well. Spilled milk and all that.
"So here is what I suggest." He said, "I'm willing to pay 10 times the amount of wealth that a peasant family pays in tax in a year to all the lords who had lost their smallfolk to me in the past two years."
"That is..." Lord Stark said, looking at him suspiciously. "Rather generous of you considering how you're not even in the wrong in this matter."
"Perhaps." He shrugged. "But I don't want people to think that I'm some kind of fiend who just takes from them without giving anything in return. In fact, if the lords whom I'm about to pay for their displaced population invest all that gold in their lands, then I'm sure that their capital would easily increase to two or three folds in a few years."
"You seem rather unconcerned about this whole matter." Lord Stark pointed out. "Do you even realize how many families you'll have to pay for?"
"About 46,800 families. Yes, Lord Stark, I'm aware." He replied, not caring about the incredulous look of Lord Stark's face at the precise information he held. That's what happens when you have competent subordinates working under you and the populace is willing to work with the government. "I'm also aware that I'll have to pay about 190,000 gold dragons for these people."
Lord Stark raised an eyebrow at his words "You do realize that 190,000 gold dragons are no small amount."
And it was true. North was the second poorest kingdom in the Westeros, followed only by the Iron Islands due to their lack of natural resources. But that didn't mean that he himself was poor.
No. In fact, he was sure that by this point his house could be counted among one of the richest houses in Westeros. Followed only by House Lannister, Tyrell, Hightower, Martell, and Redwynes due to their long history.
The fact that he was richer than House Arryn, Stark, Baratheon, Tully, and Greyjoy, all of whom were the highlords of their kingdoms, spoke for itself.
Still, appearances needed to be kept.
"I know Lord Stark." He nodded "But it is not a very large amount either. And I would rather pay for the people whom I've indirectly taken into my lands and see an end to this mess rather than surround myself with neighbors who hate my guts."
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Ch.91: Forced Betrothal?
Ch.92: Stalling Plan of Domeric