"Do we have more detailed information about the losses?" Lord Estermont asked carefully.
"Yes." Kevan consulted his notes. "Of the more than two hundred vessels Lord Tyrell had in formation as recently as yesterday, thirty-eight remain. It is true that the two-hundred-oared flagship Lion and Rose was preserved—and that vessel alone is worth several ships. More than forty thousand rowers, sailors, and fighting men took part. Now one can hardly count eight thousand, though, of course, some individual ships may have been scattered and still have a chance of making their way back."
"Incredible!" Estermont leaned back in his chair. "Such losses!"
"You cannot bring the men back," Tyrion said gravely. "But we have, in effect, knocked the teeth out of those bastards. They have nothing left with which to bite us. Or am I mistaken, Uncle?"
"Yes, most likely that is so. Lord Tyrell writes that their losses are comparable to ours—which means it is doubly hard for them now, and they lack the strength to wage war."
"What of the Greyjoys?" Rowan inquired.
"Both Euron and Victarion live and have withdrawn the remnants of their fleet to regroup at Banefort. As I understand it, they have had their fill and will calm down for a time."
"The thirst for violence runs in the blood of islanders," Pycelle rasped.
"We can build new ships faster and recruit more men. We possess greater human and financial resources," Jaime said evenly. As a professional warrior, he regarded losses calmly, as an inevitable evil.
"Building a ship isn't the same as bedding a whore," Tyrion smirked.
I could not help wincing at my uncle's vulgarity. Though in substance, he was entirely correct.
To construct a medium-sized galley requires roughly four hundred oak trunks, several thousand nails and rivets, an unimaginable quantity of forged metal fittings—various hinges, brackets, rings, fastenings… Several tons of hemp are needed for rigging and sails, made from hemp fiber. Sails may also be sewn from long sheep's wool, but only certain breeds are suitable for that purpose. A sail of average size requires up to three tons of wool, while a single sheep yields no more than two kilograms of this valuable material per year. Sails may also be made from linen or silk—the weight of these fabrics is lighter, though the cost, especially of the latter, is considerably higher.
Then there is pitch and oakum for caulking, varnish for sealing, and numerous copper sheets to sheath the rams on those vessels equipped with such a feature.
From all this it follows that building a warship is not only costly—it demands time and skilled craftsmen. And afterward, a crew must be assembled and at least several voyages made to drill and coordinate their actions.
What we had just heard was, if not a catastrophe, then certainly a serious crisis. A vast fleet had been grievously damaged, and only a small part of it remains. Now, until new ships were built—and that would take close to a year—we were limited in maneuver and action. A fleet meant mobility: the ability to transfer troops and supplies, and to blockade fortresses from the sea.
There was one consolation—the Greyjoys had suffered heavy losses and had not broken through to the south. Now, even if they wished to raid along the western lands, the scale of their activity would not be so dire.
For some time we continued our deliberations. Men proposed ways to secure the necessary resources, where to begin laying down new hulls, and how to restore our naval strength as swiftly as possible.
It was decided that once they had recovered, Paxter would return to the Arbor, Tyrell would come back to King's Landing, and Daven would lead the army of the Rock northward. He was ordered to retake the Crag and Banefort, restore control over the valley of the Tumblestone, and secure the ability to move troops and provisions between Casterly Rock and Riverrun along the River Road. All forces of the Westerlands would come under Daven's command, save for the few thousand currently stationed in the capital.
We also resolved to provide Lord Estermont with a considerable sum of money and send him to Myr, where he was to purchase new ships and commission the remainder at the shipyards. He would be responsible for their condition and for transferring them to King's Landing. Given his experience in naval matters, we all trusted he would accomplish the task.
Well then, the time had come to spend the money we had managed to accumulate. After all, it's no use just letting it sit in the vault!
Trusted servants brought wine, cheese, and fruit, and we all moistened our throats a little. Immediately afterward, we turned to the situation at the Trident.
"So far, matters are not unfolding in our favor," Jaime said with a smile, as though to suggest that it was only a matter of time. When speaking of land warfare and actions on solid ground, he was entirely at ease. "The Arryns have entrusted overall command to Brynden the Blackfish. The old goat not only survived Riverrun but appears to be in excellent health. He led some ten thousand men out through the Bloody Gate—roughly two and a half thousand cavalry, two thousand archers, a thousand pikemen and swordsmen. The rest are ordinary infantry—slingers, drivers, foragers, and assorted rabble."
"Not especially impressive," Tyrion smirked.
(End of Chapter)
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