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Chapter 37 - Textiles

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298 AC

Bolton Lands

Town of Marathon

"Production has risen by thirty percent over these past few years, my lord," said Master Kelar, the overseer of the Textile industry and its mills.

"I know Master Caro has already shown you the figures, but we are now the largest clothing and textile producers on this side of the north, even among the eyrie and river lands. Our new patterns and designs have performed admirably these last three years. And we do in a single hour what once required a full day of work." He says optimistically.

"I am always eager for good news, Master Kelar," Domeric Bolton replied as he walked along the concrete corridor of the great factory.

"Master Caro tells me our cotton imports will increase by another fifteen percent by the end of the next quarter. If so, our textile exports may rise by eight, assuming we also improve labor productivity. And the second weaving hall based on the information i've been provided should be completed before the moon's end, and we will take on another two hundred workers at once." Domeric voices contently.

He paused for a second glancing up at the beams overhead in curiosity.

The results pleased him more than he wanted to show. The four factories already in operation had exceeded every quota set for them, turning steady profits and supplying the realm and beyond with cheaper, sturdy and easily manufactured clothing, carpets, and textiles.

Innovation had been key here like the many other industries. Better looms, quicker spindles, and newly introduced sewing machines that had hurt his head on replicating a 18th century design.

This though had replaced so much tedious hand-stitching had propelled them far beyond their rivals. Even his standing army now wore uniforms produced within these vert same walls. Wool gambesons, shirts, trousers, gloves, banners, and other garments of war.

Domestic clothing was also available in abundance than never seen before. Cloaks for winter months, expensive dresses , robes and and silks were also sewn here. Even his other invention which he had commissioned a few years back the boxers, slips, or briefs had become popular. 

Proper underwear was good nevertheless 

And here once more among the toil of hands and thread lay another pillar of modernization and industry.

Bolts of wool were stored in one large corner, some were dyed a rich crimson as they rested on carts awaiting inspection Kelar had said.

He spotted more Silks, the fabric as thin as parchment and paper, shimmering like oil on water, all if not most were sourced directly from Essos.

Though he had nursed far off fantasies of breeding silkworms one day within the sheltered hot houses along the Weeping Water that dream was far off.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Only the test of time would truly tell.

"Word continues to reach us," Kelar interrupted his thoughts once more, "Merchants from Dorne and River run petition for more contracts. The Dornish ladies adore the new slips and lacework. And our carpets have proven extremely popular among the Riverlords."

"As expected, but business as it is would continue through the Trading Company." Domeric says as he thought back on his conglomerate made and centered in the north to dominate Westerosi and Essosi trade

"We have advised them of this, so too have I mentioned it at the High council"Kelar stated gently.

"And no doubt once reviewed and thought out correctly, then all contracts would be approved", Domeric eased the man's mind.

They continued their tour until they passed through the central corridor where majority of the sewing-machines were positioned with their operators, they clicked like metallic insects as foot pedals drove needle into cloth autonomously.

Women and girls worked around these machines mostly, the youngest no older than thirteen.

They worked in unison , they all worked quickly and at remarkable speeds, hands steady, motions unwasted nor clumsy . A forewoman paced behind them tapping notes against paper on a piece of thin board, calling corrections when seams drifted incorrectly or whenever mistakes were made.

Before these machines, the work would have required a score of seamstresses laboring from dawn to dusk. Now a single shift accomplished what dozens upon dozens would have over hundreds of hours.

They stopped at a window and he looked beyond the yard towards Marathon itself. The settlement sprawled with new timber, stone and brick tenements, brick storehouses, and long apartments for less earning members of society.

Smoke from chimneys and kilns mingled in the air above. It was nice. Very nice and comforting to see the continued changes of society happem.

"This is the future," he murmured.

Kelar assumed the remark was for him and nodded.

"Well the common folk seem to think so too , my lord. Wages are steady and better than farmhands earn for three seasons' soil work. Many families send their daughters to the mills now."

"This is another sign that we are doing something correct," Domeric replied.

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"How much for a loaf of bread?"

"Eight coppers", the baker said.

"Eight!?" The lady exclaimed

" I spend three for a loaf back in kings-landing what the hell is this made of , the maiden's crotch!?

"Well you ain't in fucking kings landing anymore, this is the north and my products here are exclusive amongst this market, not the same weevil infested tarts and loaves you've been eating in that shit hole. If you want 3 copper loaves go over Guthries over there or the one beside it", the baker pointed out

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