"Septon, you have to help me! My lands are completely empty right now. I'm the only one trying to plan and design everything, but I don't know the first thing about any of this. Please, think of something!"
Gaemon stood in Septon Barth's chambers, pleading with the Hand of the King. Asking favors from someone of Barth's stature and influence required the proper tone of humility. The man wasn't just anyone—he was one of the most powerful and capable figures in the entire realm.
"Your Grace, there is no need for such pleading," Barth said quickly, raising a hand to stop him. "Serving the royal house is my duty. However, my current workload is overwhelming, and I simply do not have the time to travel to your lands myself. That said, I do have several men who can assist you—experienced architects and scholars with deep knowledge of city planning and construction. I will send them to you this afternoon. You may arrange matters with them as you see fit."
Gaemon's face brightened at once. "Perfect! Thank you, Septon Barth. Anyone you recommend is bound to be truly skilled. I will make excellent use of them. Once again, my deepest thanks."
He had never truly expected the Hand himself to leave King's Landing and oversee the project. Barth's days were consumed with matters of state. Even if the septon had been willing, King Jaehaerys would never have allowed it. Receiving a handful of his trusted experts was more than Gaemon had hoped for. As he had said, only the best ever earned Barth's personal recommendation.
Grinning from ear to ear, Gaemon left the Hand's solar and immediately set about the rest of his preparations.
For an entire exhausting month he worked without pause until, at last, everything needed for the reclamation was ready.
79 AC, Tenth Moon
King's Landing Harbor
Four heavily laden ships cast off from the docks, carrying five hundred poor souls Gaemon had recruited from the streets of the capital, along with thousands of gold dragons' worth of grain, farm tools, livestock, and other supplies. Their destination: the Wendwater.
High above, Gaemon circled on Bahamut, escorting the small fleet along the coast.
The route hugged the shoreline, making the voyage relatively safe. The winds stayed calm and the sea gentle. After two uneventful days, the ships reached the chosen stretch of river.
The first order of business was finding a suitable landing site. Everything else—the future port, warehouses, and docks—would grow outward from there, serving as the domain's gateway to the world.
As the saying went, many hands make light work, and it proved true that afternoon. By the time the sun began to dip, a temporary camp of tents had already risen. In the center, makeshift hearths were lit and the smell of cooking fires drifted through the clearing.
Seeing the camp take shape so quickly, Gaemon decided the settlers deserved a proper meal and a good night's rest. Tomorrow the real work would begin.
He remained mounted on Bahamut, gazing down at the modest cluster of tents below. In his heart he whispered a single vow:
This is where it all begins.
With that, he wheeled the platinum dragon toward the Red Keep and flew home.
For Gaemon the distance was nothing. A straight flight from King's Landing to his lands took barely an hour. There was no reason to sleep in a tent when a warm bed and royal kitchens awaited him. Each morning he would fly out at dawn, return at dusk, and sleep in the Red Keep. It saved a fortune—especially on dragon feed. Bahamut was still young and relatively small, but even so, the cost added up. Poor Baelon, with only Vhagar to feed, was probably already close to bankruptcy. The great she-dragon measured over a hundred feet from snout to tail and more than three hundred feet across her wings. She devoured hundreds of sheep or cattle each month, and that was while she spent most of her time sleeping. Awake, she would eat far more.
And so Gaemon settled into his new routine of daily commuting by dragon.
After a proper night's sleep in the Red Keep, he returned to the camp at first light the next morning. Today the real labor began. Together with the settlers, he would clear roads through the tangled grass and uneven ground according to the plans he had drawn, pushing all the way to the edge of the nearby forest.
Wood was the single most important building material of the age. It built houses, walls, and bridges; it was carved into tools, furniture, and weapons. Even leaves and branches had their uses. Every aspect of human life depended on trees.
The immediate priority, therefore, was to establish a lumber camp beside the forest to supply the growing settlement.
Gaemon had the men form two parallel lines five yards apart, clearing a strip roughly a yard wide toward the tree line. To speed the work, each group was assigned a section so they could labor side by side.
Once the strips were cleared of brush, Gaemon guided Bahamut along the center and unleashed a controlled stream of dragonflame from one end to the other, burning away every last blade of grass between the lines.
He was careful to keep the flame low and hot enough to consume only the vegetation, preserving the valuable ash left behind. Wood ash was excellent fertilizer and could also be used to filter drinking water.
The greatest dangers in reclamation were rarely the work itself. Unsafe water, mosquitoes, marsh fever, hidden snakes, spiders, and venomous insects—all could kill a man before he ever planted a single seed. Gaemon took no chances.
All drinking water for the settlers had to be filtered and then boiled. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best protection they could manage.
The burned brush and collected ash were carefully stored. Not every weed was useless. In the hands of the First Men they had served as dyes, medicines, cleaning agents, emergency food, and even symbols in folklore. Gaemon intended to make full use of anything that could be turned to profit. In the beginning, every copper counted.