Mermaid's Port
On Grenn Crabb's desk lay three coins: a gold dragon, a silver stag, and a copper star.
(For clarity: full plate armor begins at 16 dragons, chainmail at 6 dragons, a fine warhorse at 10 dragons, an Unsullied at 100 dragons (freight excluded), a meal with meat and a beer costs 20–30 copper stars, and a farmer earns about 1 gold dragon per year.)
The Crabb treasury held around 2,000 gold dragons in coin (excluding stored goods).
Yet they owed 5,000 dragons, and last year's interest alone amounted to 500 dragons.
After the Rebellion, under Hand of the King Jon Arryn's orders, Vale nobles and merchants imposed forced loans on Crackclaw Point's lords "to help them endure." This requirement became part of the post-war settlement.
Not one dragon of the principal was ever handed over—Vallish lenders claimed Crabb lands as collateral.
It was brutal.
Refusal wasn't a choice—Baratheon forces still roamed, and Robert wasn't done with war.
The Crabb lands' valuation at 5,000 dragons meant they'd already paid 7,500 dragons in interest. The contract demanded another 5 years of payments—2,500 dragons—and a final repayment of the principal in year six.
This was Red Keep policy in action: keep the Crabb lords weak and compliant.
The "reconstruction loan" sounded polished, but its aim was suppression—not support. Enough to keep them afloat, never enough to empower.
From the Crown's view, a meek, broken Crackclaw Point was the best kind of vassal.
Crackclaw Point's 2,000+ inhabitants combated constant mountain raids. To survive, they maintained 200 standing troops—already stretched to the limit.
Years of war left a skewed populace—more women than men. Here, women were robust—often worked fields and hunted like men. Spear-maidens were common, all potential warriors.
Nearly universal mobilization allowed total levies of 1,500—enough to crush scattered mountain clans, which numbered from mere dozens to a few hundred.
Agriculture could wait. House Crabb's motto was temporarily recast: "Seize by strength, not toil."
First order: eliminate the mountain tribes emboldened by Grenn's youth.
The next day, heavy clouds gathered over rugged Whispering Keep—crude but formidable, able to shelter over 1,000 people in its walls.
Grenn stood atop the twenty-meter curtain wall, Steward Herschel and Ser Pell behind him.
With Robert dead and war resumed, long-term planning was essential.
He scrutinized the southern lands—flat, ideal for expansion: an Inner City.
"Herschel, record this."
"Fishing Village shall henceforth be Mermaid's Port."
Herschel dutifully noted it.
"The mermaid: maiden above, fish below. So beautiful even the Seven would marvel."
Herschel hesitated:
"My lord, some septons find such imagery… improper."
An atheist, Grenn restrained himself: "Thanks for the counsel, Herschel."
He turned to Ser Pell: "Find reliable bards; feed them the concept, let them weave the words."
Herschel resumed:
"Mermaids sing ancient, heart-stirring songs—shy creatures rising only at night to enchant the sea. Their voices… like heavenly music."
Grenn suppressed an impulse to mention the Seven.
"Mermaids are carefree, kind. But in deepest sorrow they weep—each tear becomes the world's most pristine pearl."
"Each mermaid loves only once. When she does, she swears a vow."
Herschel paused:
"'I vow to be your love… in poverty or wealth… through chaos or gods' neglect…'"
Both Herschel and Pell shivered with emotion.
Grenn sensed their belief.
Could a fabled mermaid really haunt this port?
So he committed to the myth.
And secretly, that made it powerful: "If no mermaid is found, that only proves her shyness."
"Let them come," he thought: "Let them worship a legend."
"This secret has passed only between Crabb lords—until now. I trust you both."
Herschel and Pell straightened.
"Yes, my lord."
"Step one: villagers build a simple dock at a suitable spot for large ships."
"Step two: build a lighthouse to guide vessels."
"Then taverns, inns, shops—functional, modest. Every copper star counts."
"Armable villagers must be mustered for security. The elderly can staff inns."
"Mermaid's Port must grow in beauty and comfort—never disappoint seekers of wonder."
"All crucial," Herschel concluded.
Herschel bowed gravely; Pell gripped his sword pommel, veins bulging, and bowed in unison.
.
.
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