Chapter 4: Part IV
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing for a while.
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"I thought the Unsullied the finest infantry in the world, trained to perfection and with an unmatched discipline in battle. Our soldiers had crushed the army of every city of Essos before them… but then we met Joffrey's Legions."
Ser Jorah Mormont – 318 AL
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King's Landing – 298 AL
"No need for anyone here to stand on my account" Octavian told the Small Council as he entered, most of them having automatically started rise from their chairs when he unexpectedly entered the room.
Although as surprised at the arrival of the Prince as the others were Lord Varys was always calm, measured and collected and so it was he that spoke up first. "Good day Prince Joffrey" he greeted the visitor politely. "Are you looking for your father?" he queried, unable to think of why else he would be there.
"No, and as a matter of fact I just came from seeing him" Octavian replied. "I asked his permission to start sitting in on meetings of the Small Council so as to help me better understand the running of the Kingdom" he explained. "The King had no objection" he told them. "In fact he seemed pleased at having another excuse for not attending himself" Octavian continued. "It's in my own best interest to make sure there will be a Kingdom to inherit after all" he noted with a smile. "Naturally as Hand of the King you still have full authority here in my father's absence Lord Stark" he addressed the man himself directly, "and if you object to my being here I will leave immediately" he added deferentially.
"I have no objection" Eddard Stark replied, "but this is the first time I have attended the Small Council as Hand so by your leave I'll look to the more experienced members for advice as to your presence" he said, looking to the others for comment.
"Previous heirs to the throne have been known to attend, although purely as observers and usually alongside the King" Grand Maester Pycelle informed the Hand "But there is certainly no prohibition on doing so without him" he told him.
"For my part, if my nephew wishes to learn something of statecraft I can only applaud" Renley Baratheon, Master of Laws chipped in, mentally adding to himself that it was a pity his brother Robert rarely got off his fat arse to do likewise.
Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin chuckled. "At least we don't have to be concerned about the Prince passing on our secrets to elements hostile to the realm" he joked. "It would hardly be in his own best interests."
"Indeed" Varys concurred. "I believe I speak for the whole Council Lord Stark when I say we not only do not object to having Prince Joffrey here as an observer but we find the notion that he would wish to do so praiseworthy."
Stark nodded. "Well then, take a seat Prince Joffrey" he told the boy, indicating one of the several at the table currently stood empty. Not only was the king himself absent but his brother Stannis, who could have attended the Council as Master of Ships, was currently back home on Dragonstone Island while Ser Barristan Selmy, still considered tainted in the kings eyes by his prior service to the Targaryens also did not attend as a result, despite the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard traditionally doing so.
"Thank you all" Joffrey replied, offering the whole Council a slight bow of respect before sitting down. Varys was so surprised by that gesture he almost lost his composure and barely stopped himself raising his eyebrows in shock. "If you'll forgive me sounding stupid sometimes I might have to ask the occasional question in order to keep up" the young prince told the Council apologetically.
"Stupid people don't ask questions" Stark told the boy before leaning forward in his chair. "So then My Lords, shall we continue with what we were discussing before" he resumed the meeting. "Lord Balish, you were telling me of the Tournament that the King wishes to hold in celebration of my appointment as Hand and how much it was going to cost" he reminded the room.
Balish nodded. "Yes" he replied. "Some eighty thousand Gold Dragons in total prize money, forty for the winner of the joust, twenty for the runner up and twenty more for the champion with the bow" he said. "Unfortunately we do not at present have the required coin so my suggestion would be to borrow the sum from House Lannister."
"I know I'm new here but to place the Kingdom in debt for something as trivial as a tournament sounds daft to me" Stark commented. Spendthrift southern gits, he thought to himself disparagingly.
"A drop in the ocean compared to the three million we already owe House Lannister, a trifling increase I'd say" Baelish replied with a mild shrug.
"The kingdom is three million Dragons in debt!" Stark exclaimed in horror.
The Master of Coin shook his head. "No Lord Stark, the kingdom is six million Dragon's in debt" he corrected him. "As well as the loans we have taken from Tywin Lannister we owe a similar amount to others, chiefly the Iron Bank of Braavos but also a not inconsiderable sum to Lord Mace of House Tyrell among others."
Octavian coughed. "I'm sorry, I know I'm only an observer here" he spoke up, "but I'm afraid I need to put that sum into perspective" he said. "How many days work would it take an ordinary man, I mean a small-folk labourer, to earn a Gold Dragon?" he asked.
"I'm sorry, I've got no idea how much a labourer earns" Baelish replied, laughing.
"About four months if he's a hard worker with a fair master" Stark said coldly. As he would have expected rich Southerners like Baelish had no idea of the value of money. In reality no labourer would ever get his hands on a gold dragon honestly though, in day to day life the only currency the small-folk used was copper pennies, or occasionally silver coins for the most expensive purchases they would ever make in their lives.
Octavian frowned. "Then the prize money alone for this tournament would take thirteen thousand people two years to earn" he calculated in his head. "That's ridiculous in itself even before considering that our entire debt represents two million man-years worth of labour" he continued. "How much of the debt was run-up in projects that will make a positive financial return long-term?" he queried.
"I'm sorry?" Renley responded, confused.
"Roads, aqueducts, bridges, ports, irrigation canals… things that cost a great deal to construct but increase tax-revenue to pay for themselves in the long-run" Octavian explained, starting to feel a little exasperated.
"Virtually none I'm afraid" Varys told him.
Octavian blinked as he converted everything in his head to more familiar terms. In Rome a denarius was roughly a day's pay for an unskilled worker which put the value of a Gold Dragon at perhaps just over a hundred denarii. Multiplying this out put the debt at a jaw-dropping amount equivalent to six-hundred million denarii.
That was three times the supposed wealth of Marcus Licinius Crassus, by far the richest man in Rome's history and of whom it was always said "Crassus, rich as Croesus".
"Do you think after I inherit the realm someone might want to buy the Iron Throne as a souvenir or will I have to sell it as scrap metal in order to put bread on the table for Lord Stark's daughter?" Octavian asked sardonically before dropping his head into his hands on the table. "Kingdom for sale, needs some restoration, one careless owner" he could be heard muttering into his hands.
Renley and Baelish were both trying hard not to laugh but Stark was even grimmer than normal. "I cannot believe Robert let the finances of the realm fall into such a state" he declared, glaring at Balish who as Master of Coin surely held much of the responsibility for the situation. "Surely Jon Arryn would have intervened?" he asked rhetorically, knowing the former Hand of the King to have been a capable, conscientious man.
"He tried many times to warn my brother but the King always dismissed the topic when we raised it as 'counting coppers' I'm afraid" Renley responded with a shrug.
"Even if it was only six million Copper Pennies instead of Gold Dragons it'd still be a fearsome amount" Ned Stark growled.
"Five hundred and ten" Octavian's muffled voice responded.
"What?" Stark responded, confused.
Octavian raised his head from his hands. "With fifty-six Copper Pennies to the Silver Stag and two-hundred and ten Silver Stags to the Gold Dragon" he began, "then six million Copper Pennies would be worth roughly five-hundred and ten Gold Dragons" he said with a sigh, looking around the room. "Basic arithmetic" he said as they all looked at him nonplussed.
Stark raised his eyebrows. Apparently the boy's mind was as sharp as Valyrian Steel he thought, deciding that he must take after his famously, or perhaps infamously intelligent grandfather Tywin on his mother's side rather than his father's side of the family. Robert Baratheon was no fool but he won the Iron Throne more by strength and determination than he did by quick wits. "I'm cancelling the tournament immediately" he said. "We cannot afford to fall even deeper into debt."
"I doubt the King would like that" Baelish warned. "Probably best to begin planning for it at least" he counselled, Renley nodding his agreement.
"I'll talk to the King myself" Stark told the Council.
"May I accompany you Lord Stark?" Octavian requested. "I do have a stake in this and perhaps if he hears it from both his best friend and son-and-heir together he might be willing to listen" he added hopefully.
"If not I'll open the bidding for the Iron Throne at ten Gold Dragons" Renley joked, disarming as ever. "Not for myself but it's so foreboding to look at I'm sure my brother Stannis would love it as a present" he said. "The thing would suit Dragonstone Castle down to the ground."
Petyr Baelish gave Renley a quizzical look. "Can you even tell when Stannis is happy?" he asked, genuinely interested.
"It's the eyes, he doesn't narrow them at you disapprovingly as much" Renley explained, not entirely in jest.
The Master of Coin laughed but in his mind he was feeling slightly concerned. While the new Hand of the King was nothing to worry about, the Starks had quick tempers but slow wits in his opinion, Prince Joffrey had never indicated he had any particular wits at all, let alone the intellect he was starting to display now.
Baelish knew that Tytos Lannister, father of Tywin had frittered away his families wealth and made them almost a figure of fun to be mocked and disregarded but it hadn't taken Tywin long to restore the strength and fortunes of the Lannisters once he inherited Casterly Rock. The last thing his planning and scheming needed was another bloody Lannister with brains and ability to come along just at the wrong moment Balish thought to himself, inwardly grimacing at the prospect. Why did the little blond son-of-a-bitch have to grow up and take on a few family traits now of all times, just when things were going so well?
Lord Varys continued to observe the boy with interest as he had done surreptitiously throughout the meeting. An intriguing and quite unexpected turn of events he pondered to himself, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on the Prince in future.
Notes:
Note from the author:
The Small Council is the body that basically runs the kingdom on behalf of the king (even more directly than normal if that king is Robert Baratheon who rarely bothered attending). The Hand of the King acts as his deputy, the Master of Coin keeps the realms finances, the Master of Laws is responsible for law and order, the Master of Whisperers is chief spymaster, the Master of Ships controls the navy and the Grand Maester acts as an advisor. Normally the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would attend the Small Council too but not under King Robert.
Given how much a single gold dragon is worth to an ordinary person in Westeros the staggering sum being offered as prize money at the tournament King Robert wanted to hold is practically nonsensical in itself, but for the kingdom to already be six million dragons in debt is going to astound and horrify anyone with any sense.