Chapter 51: The Obsidian Vein
Aeg held the torch aloft, its flickering flame casting a warm glow on the cave's walls, revealing the dark, glassy surface of the obsidian that lay within. "I intend to mine obsidian here," he declared, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. "What must we prepare?"
The old miner, his eyes squinting in the dim light, took the torch from Aeg's hand and passed it to his youngest son. He drew a small iron hammer from his belt pouch and began to tap and scrutinize the cave wall. After a moment, he straightened up, a thoughtful expression on his weathered face. "This mine is a natural formation, stable and above sea level, with air that circulates freely," he explained. "There's no need to fear collapses, water seepage, or toxic fumes. The obsidian is pure and requires no refining, making the mining process straightforward. Anyone with a bit of strength can manage it, and unlike gold mining, there's no risk of workers pilfering the ore."
He paused, then added, "The only precaution might be to construct a framework and lay down planks to prevent injuries from falling rocks."
Aeg nodded, respectfully seeking the wisdom of these worldly experts in matters unfamiliar to him. "Can you determine what we need?" he asked. "How soon can we begin mining? And roughly, what funding will be required?"
"The specifics of what we need, we'll have to list out," the old miner replied vaguely. "As for starting, with conditions this favorable, we could begin tonight if the funds and tools were available."
"And the funding?" Aeg pressed.
"That depends on how urgently you need the obsidian, how much you require, and the specifications for the ore," the miner said.
"Specifications?" Aeg echoed, his curiosity piqued.
"For instance, if you want to carve obsidian into the shape of those two dragon heads we saw at the castle gate, you'd need large, unbroken pieces, which would make mining quite challenging. But if you're looking to make beads for bracelets to sell, the workers can simply swing their hammers, greatly reducing the difficulty and cost."
Aeg stroked his chin, contemplating the miner's words. Obsidian, after all, was merely volcanic glass and unsuitable for crafting large weapons like longswords. The daggers and arrowheads fashioned by the Children of the Forest millennia ago were the most practical use for the material, proven by time. This meant that the mined ore only needed to be shaped and polished into daggers; anything larger would be wasteful. Against the White Walkers, close combat was a risky strategy, and the most reliable approach was to produce an abundance of obsidian arrows. to overwhelm with quantity rather than quality.
"The ore doesn't need to be large," Aeg decided. "It's fine as it is."
The old miner nodded. "I'll draft a list of what's needed and present it to you. Once you've reviewed it, you can tell me the quantities, and I'll find someone to procure them, which should save you a considerable sum compared to doing it yourself."
Aeg smiled inwardly. Though he had not been a leader before his transmigration, his ancestors had distilled wisdom into simple principles: benefits should be shared, not monopolized; plans should be concise, not numerous. It meant that when plotting significant matters, one should confide in a select few, and in execution, allow all participants to benefit, rather than attempting to control every aspect out of fear of losing profit.
"Water that is too clear has no fish," the old adage went. Stannis Baratheon had failed to grasp this truth, earning him the disdain of nearly every noble in Westeros. Aeg admired Stannis's fairness but had no desire to emulate his isolation. Discussing important matters. he only needed Tyrion. The old miner, offering his expertise with the obsidian mine and seeking opportunities for his son, was understandable, even his desire to skim some profit from the procurement of tools.
"Very well, since you're the expert, I trust your judgment," Aeg said. "Your youngest son will be appointed as the supervisor of this obsidian mine, with full authority over all mining operations. As for his salary, let's start with a hundred silver stags a month, with bonuses for exceptional performance."
"Aren't you going to thank the lord?" the old miner prompted, nudging his son, who quickly expressed his gratitude.
Aeg shook his head slightly. "I'm no lord. You can address me by my name. The work here must start immediately. Keep the initial funding within a hundred gold dragons, and ensure the first shipment of obsidian reaches Eastwatch-by-the-Sea within a month. As for the quantity. let's aim to fill the small ship we took to Dragonstone."
"That's not much. It seems that recruiting ten or so workers from the village on Dragonstone will be enough."
"Alright, you two can discuss all the specific details. Tyrion introduced you to me, so I trust you."
"Thank you, my lord."
"I told you I'm not. Ah, forget it." Aeg shrugged, "Let's go back to the village before it gets dark. I promised you all a feast."
Aeg's promise of a feast for his companions was met with an unexpected challenge. The villagers of Dragonstone were not attempting to swindle them; Stannis's stern rule ensured such deceit would be swiftly punished. The issue was that Aeg's coin seemed useless here. He wished to order pork, beef, or mutton, but none were available. Chicken, duck, or goose were equally absent from the menu. The only fare Dragonstone offered was fish, and the young guide, a long-time resident, must have grown weary of it.
"Is it the same in the castle?" Aeg inquired, curiosity piqued. "What does the cook do when Lord Stannis desires something other than fish?"
"Every ten days or so, a ship docks here," the guide explained helplessly. "Whatever the ship brings determines the castle's meals until the next arrival."
"In the future, we'll be transporting a shipload of obsidian from here each month. Let's ensure these ships don't arrive empty; they should bring chicken, duck, beef, or mutton. Include it in the food expenses and send half to Lord Stannis. Mining on his island without discussing taxes is a favor; the Night's Watch cannot take it for granted."
Aeg had seldom dealt with such mundane matters before his transmigration, but he understood the art of grace and beauty in handling situations, leaving no room for criticism. Some principles, he knew, were universal.
The old miner had mentioned that the obsidian mine could operate with as few as ten workers, and their food consumption would be minimal. If Tyrion agreed to join his fundraising plan, this expense would soon become negligible, mere pennies in the grand scheme of their financial chain. Moreover, the miners' food expenses were, theoretically, to be reimbursed by the Night's Watch.
In the end, Aeg kept his promise. He paid triple the market price for a laying hen to be slaughtered as the main dish, complemented by several fish courses, to reward the young guide who had led him to the ancient obsidian mine. Watching the guide savor the chicken leg, it was clear he hadn't tasted chicken in months.
After the meal, the quartet continued their discussion over ale, the old miner, now slightly inebriated, holding court with tales from his youth managing gold mines for House Lannister. His stories captivated his younger audience, especially when he recounted how Tywin Lannister, upon returning to Casterly Rock after his father's death, had dealt with his father's meddlesome mistress by having her stripped and paraded through Lannisport. Sex often became a topic of conversation in such gatherings, and even Aeg, finding the subject vulgar, listened with interest.
As the old miner began to describe the woman's naked body in vivid detail, the door to their residence suddenly swung open.
A woman stepped into the room.
"A visitor from the Night's Watch comes to Dragonstone, and I wasn't even informed?"
Before Aeg could turn to see who had entered, the young man sent by Stannis to guide them had already set down his cup and stood, terror in his eyes. "Lady Melisandre, what brings you here?"
*****
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