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"The basis of mutual benefit is for us both to equally profit, but you offer me short gains and liabilities instead of something having much worth",
"Speak clearer kneeler", the wildling scoffed.
"Well we agreed upon two hundred furs every moon , yet you bring me this short haul, far less than what was promised",
"Well, things haven't been the best since recently and mance rayder doesn't like us smuggling without him getting a piece of the share,so next time, next moon you'd have your full hawl", the wildling chief tuk said between his long black beard.
"Well lets call it a day then , I don't need to explain to you that the grain then would be shorter along with the steel supply do I? Fair is fair afterall" The smuggler said.
"Tch", the wildling chief hissed.
"You kneeling bastard"
The man drew his blade and the rest of the smuggler's entourage also drew their own weapons to defend their captain.
"Now,now. No need to get heated over this. If you can get me the rest of the furs within the next three weeks then perhaps we can sort something out."
——- ——- ——- ——-
"Careful with that lever there boy! Take your time and apply right weight to it, slowly."
"Yes sir", the younger apprentice nodded as he did what was told.
Barth nodded un satisfaction. The new apprentices were catching on fairly well and this made the job easier.
More steelworkers meant more steel, more steel meant more coin and more coin meant a better life for everyone.
He grinned mentally.
He had worked at this bloomerie for over 4 years now among a few others. He had know this place like the back of his hand. He gad climbed the ranks from a lowly laborer to now a foreman.
He had become used to its heat, used to its hearth and burns that was common even with the leather wear given for safety. He had become apart of factory itself. And the factory had become a part of him.
He had found his passion now in life and perhaps his purpose and he was satisfied.
T'was far better that tilling a field and the pay had seen him earn more than enough yearly, especially if they surpassed quotas.
The bolton lands now exported iron, steel and alloys in quantities never seen before. They had become the north's if not the largest exporter of steel in westeros over a 4 year period.
Selling steel to bravos, pentos, myr, tyrosh, and local fiefs and lords numbered in the dozens.
The flayed man's seal had slowly yet surely made its way into many if not most of the world's creases if not eighty five percent of all of Westeros already.
And the secret behind its quick production from iron ore to good quality steel was fairly straightforward.
The method involved heating pig iron in a furnace to reach a specific temperature. Once the burning iron became molten, it was transferred to the Emer converter a strange name but lord bolton was the one to name it such after his learned men made it, and after that there was like a fiery battleground where molten iron transformed.
The conversion process was rapid, typically taking around 20 minutes. The resulting steel had a low carbon content, making it suitable for the production of agricultural and precision tools, weapons, armor, construction equipment ,and mining equipment.
The steel they produced yearly was enough for the entire continent perhaps a little shorter and they had overwhelmed the markets with this cheaper quality product.
And now as he watched proud and watched as younger newer workers begin to learn the trade he felt a sense of pride.
—— ——- ——- ——— ———
Kings landing
"What news from the city?"
"Mere rumors this time, the hand of the king has professed a need to reduce foreign trade from bolton lands to the Eyrie by raising its tariffs and taxes, he wishes to stifle The boltons wealth in favor of his foster son while also maintaining and helping his own local markets from imports ." The man replies
"Not surprising"
"But a foolish endeavor, as it would see his own peoples suffer under higher prices", the man in the black cloak added.
"And that was why I said it was a mere rumor", finch says.
"We don't deal in rumors finch , factual and accurate information. The master demands it." The hooded figure scowled.
Finch only nodded at his words not wanting to debate.
Drako Rogerrio the spymaster for domeric or as his alias the master had dozens of spies in kingslanding. Dozens of spies at numerous major coastal cities in Westeros and he had used them carefully to inform his lord so he could get one over his enemies and competitors.
He had infiltrated the red keep and its outer zones yer still not too close to get the necessary information they needed from small council meetings .
Nevertheless the man's webs had spread far and wide. He had bought warehouses under false names to serve as not only a supply and strategic hub but as a headquarters for his spies to congregate at secretly.
"What about the manifests did you get them?" Findral the hooded figure asked.
"Indeed as you requested",
"It had been a difficult tasks to do so though but its owners won't know who'd stolen from them"
"Good, Good. The master will be pleased."
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