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"King or beggar. What's the difference?"
—Maester Karl of Oldtown
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280 AC
Life in Westeros was never one of comfort, no matter the social standing. Without the resources of the modern twenty-first century, civilization had not yet reached one of its climaxes. One would have to appreciate, if not accept, the "humble" life they had now. Peasants, hedge knights, lords, and ladies all faced these challenges together.
Using the word "humble" would be inaccurate, given the harsh reality of life in a feudal society.
The economy was primarily agrarian and localized, with peasants being the main driving force of this industry, yet they remained the most vulnerable when anything went wrong, and things always do.
The dangers included severe weather, disease, war, strife, famine, and the ever-present threat of banditry. It had surprised him how little lords really cared about the true resources of their lands. It wasn't the fields, nor the mines, nor the cattle. It was the people; without them, nothing could be done. Without the people, the lords would starve in their stone holds; without the people, we had no power. Who would one rule over then? None.
We needed the people just as much as they needed us, and ruling wasn't just protecting and mediating matters among them; it was ensuring that they were comfortable, content, and properly understood and administered. And the term "administered" encompassed a wide range of meanings.
Food wasn't the greatest issue for now, but it could've been better, and more food was always better in a feudal world. More product translated into wealth, and vice versa. It meant more to sell and export, and more for the common folks to keep for themselves. And more for us lords.
And the tools I created here were designed to prioritize the development of farming and its principles in all areas. The steel plow, the seed drill, the horse collar, and a mixture of fertilizers were developed to provide nutrients to the soil. The equipment was all intended to assist the small folk, but until I had the means to mass-produce enough, I had to limit myself to the meager quantity that 100 gold dragons could provide. This set amounted to twenty ploughs, each costing two hundred silver stags; the seed drills were priced at 150 silver stags each, making them the second most produced item with approximately thirty-five units created so far. The horse collars were perhaps the cheapest, along with better-developed spades, soil forks, cart spring suspensions, and pickaxes.
"Young lord."
"Young lord…"
He heard a second call again, pulling him from his momentary trance.
"Another of your deep self-thoughts again?" the man of twenty and five said as he stared at him with a rather blank expression.
"No, it wasn't." He lied as he straightened his black coat; it was fairly cool today.
"Ah, I see..." His reply was sarcastic, and he did not really care which option it was.
"I am yet still curious of why you had chosen me, young lord, out of all the stewards and clerks at the castle? " asked Meric. He did not look pleased to be dragged four miles from his small study in the eyrie to a farm.
"Because I prefer your company over theirs; you are blunt, honest and passionate about what you do." Rommel said while looking ahead at the servants who were preparing some of the tools to train a group of over 45 farmers on their uses, "You're a young man of numbers, bookkeeping, and organization, and I need a man of such talents out here and on my person." Rommel added.
Meric seemed unconvinced by the child but couldn't find a means to refute or disobey the son of his liege lord. Thats treason for a commoner to disobey or disrespect his superior.
He sighed, realizing his current fate; but perhaps his skills could indeed be of use in this unfamiliar setting. Despite his reservations, Meric felt a flicker of curiosity about the farmers and whatever training they would undergo under the orders of the young lord.
These were strange tools that the boy had created, and Lord Arryn had been so trusting in his abilities to have him act as he wished, a thing which seemed preposterous for someone his age.
Meric couldn't help but wonder how such an inexperienced youth could command respect and authority amongst the other servants and guards so charismatically . Perhaps there was more to this young lord than than pride and pampering.
"Now since we are on the same page, let's go. I wish to see how Jonathan and the rest are relaying the information; it's a more hands-on course after all." Rommel nodded.
Now as they walked closer towards the fields, Meric noticed the determination in Rommel's stride. It was clear that he intended to lead by example. He wanted to prove to others that would doubt his capabilities due to his age.. prove to them that he wasn't useless.
He was ready to show them that experience and wisdom was not proportional to age. With each step, the excitement of the upcoming demonstration filled the air, and Meric felt a renewed sense of purpose swell within him.
The boy was surely convincing in away or another he'd give him that, but there was still much for him to prove.
The wind rolled down from the mountains into valley in long, lazy breaths, bending barley and tugging at cloaks. The field chosen for the demonstration lay a mile from the road, freshly turned in some places, stubborn and untouched in others, as if the earth itself waited to pass judgement.
Forty-odd farmers stood in loose clumps.
Leather caps in hands.
Arms folded.
Expressions carved from doubt.
Rommel noticed all of it.
Meric leaned closer, murmuring from the side of his mouth. "If they look any less impressed, they may fall asleep standing, my lord." He spoke up, not giving away the chance to make his mind known once more.
"They came," Rommel replied. "And that is already a victory."
"A tiny one."
Rommel ignored him and walked ahead.
Two teams of servants along with their lead, the previously mentioned Jonathon among them. Beside them rested the new ploughs, their multiple furrows catching the sun in bright, dangerous flashes. A few of the men shifted uncomfortably at the sight of so much steel being used for what they realised they were being told were farm tools.
One old farmer secretly spat once he saw Merric, mistaking him for the young lord instead of the shorter boy beside him. Although he had never personally met Lord Jon Arryn, he had seen him a few rare times; however, he had never met Jon Arryn's son. The supposed "Grey Falcon" as they called him.
"These things look expensive," he declared to his fellow farmers. They said they would get the chance to receive new ploughs and some odd new farm equipment but the catch he couldn't believe.
Free for a year or until they had made harvest to start their payment back in installments until their value was all paid off in either copper or food.
A few men nodded in response, and Rommel heard their reactions.
Rommel spoke politely. "They are."
He stood before them straight and rigid, arms behind his back, trying to look as lordly and confident as possible to no avail.
The men sized him up; they observed his well-made black coat, the well-made boots on his feet and a pin on his left breast that was crafted in the visage of a bird, the falcon. And so they realized.
They also saw how the servants bowed their heads quickly to the boy. They had now realized who the true lord was, and it wasn't the young man they thought previously.
He had light sandy brown hair styled in a more masculine cut, like a military man of the modern age. His eyes were blue, and he was skinny, not due to hunger but because of his youth.
Seeing the six knights behind the men, the farmers too made a nod of their heads in respect.
"I'm glad that you all could come here at my behest." Rommel started off knowing that it wasn't much of a request, as it was an order for all nearby farmers within 20 square miles of the castle of the Eyrie to show themselves here at this central location. A summons brought to them directly by horse riding messengers.
The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, as the farmers stood in a semi-circle, exchanging wary glances.
"These tools are improvements for all farming methods, and shortly, my party will demonstrate how to use them for everyone. Before you have any doubts or superstitions about these creations, I want to assure you that they are beneficial. I will warn you that you have no choice in their future adoption; you will learn how they operate, their names, and how to use them effectively. These things were created to make your lives easier, and you will see and understand their significance shortly." The young Arryn declared, making no room for debate.
The men seemed to have recoiled at that; some frowned but did not verbalize their thoughts due to fear of the men in plate that seemed to observe them so carefully.
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