Anchors Away
Twenty-Third Day of the Fifth Month 294 AC
The little boat sent ripples through the water; one, two, three little silvery circles in the calm waters of the narrow tidal pool. It looked to all the world like a child's toy, albeit a child who was most concerned with making a 'proper' long boat, from the long broad oars meant to cut the waters to the sea serpent prow in the guise of Nagga. The thing could have been one of the ships of Balon Greyjoy's late and unlamented Iron Fleet, the last military force to actually fall to the ships of Robert Baratheon's Royal Fleet before the Kingdom of the Stepstones, the not-quite Imperium, having shown that the age of galleys had passed from the earth and would not be returning.
"What do you see?" A strong voice called out from the shore, a voice used to commanding men at sea and ashore, the voice of the new Lady of the Iron Islands.
"A longship?" Theon Greyjoy asked, trying and mostly failing to keep the skepticism out of his words. It was not that he would not vote with his sister, but he really did not see the point of all this mummery. Really, Lords Hightower and Redwyne would not have come to see her play with toys if they had not been interested with an alliance with the new Duchess of the Iron Islands.
"No, that is a toy, and if you were to make it half a hundred times bigger it would still be a toy," Asha replied. She laughed. "And let me tell you, that did not make good hearing for one who has thousands, likely tens of thousands of sailors who can man such a ship in her keeping, but the world ain't going to change on my account."
"Alas, not a sentiment one oft hears from Pyke, though one can hope that will change in the years to come," Lord Hightower said. His words were light, his eyes sharp, and anyone who thought them idle was a fool.
Asha did not seem to listen but went on with her speech. "This is a making of the age that was, as finely polished as a gem... and now as worthless as a glass bead. Time was when the easiest way to get from place to place was to slide a piece of wood along the waters by the power of oar and wind. If you ask an engineer they will talk your ears off about natural law and friction and all sorts of stuff that are not worth that much to us here. What matters is this. Take a Moonchaster, Hells, take
the Moonchaser, it is just as much at home a thousand feet above the waters as it is a thousand feet below it and it is faster than oar and sail could ever go. Sailing in a boat of wood makes about as much sense long term as trying to
fart yourself to your destination, my lords, and I don't think even the Lyseni make food spicy enough for that. Pity for us, we are at the ass end of the realm."
Lord Redwyne laughed, as if on cue... or more likely actually on cue. Not for nothing was his son marrying Asha. "Then I suppose you have a solution for us being 'at the ass end' of the Imperium, my lady?"
"I do indeed. Ignore the coasts, ignore the hills and mountains, rivers and lakes, and fly free as the birds. You don't need all the bells and trumpets on a sky vessel to actually fly. The djinn have been doing it since before our kin learned to forge metal and tan hides. I am about to have a lot of people on my hands with the skills to run and sail a ship, in navigation and aye, even command if you would trust an Ironborn. You, Lord Hightower, you have Oldtown and all its scholars, hopefully set to better tasks than they have been so far, and Lord Redwyne will have the rich lands of the Arbor to make sure all of us get fed while we are playing with that sorcery... not to mention wine to grease the wheels of learning. I heard that works wonders."
"From people more fond of wine than study, no doubt," Brenn Pyke, the last of those invited to the meeting, noted. "And might I ask what does the Stoney Shore get out of this plan, Your Grace?"
"You know that makes me look around for a king, 'proper courtesy' or not," Asha scoffed and rolled her eyes.
She really should stop doing that, Theon thought,
it maked her look younger. Not that she was going to let that stop her from sailing ahead. "You get a faster way out of farming stones which is what I heard is the best you can hope for up and down that coast, and you get some friends to make up for everyone in the North hating you for your last name." She paused and looked around the small gathering under the flickering lights that made the shadows of the sea caves all the deeper. "The only way we are going to get or keep any property, any relevance long term, is to get civilian sky ship routes up and running, and that is going to be a lot easier to push through with the help of the crown than on our own."
Hightower looked slowly from her to Redwyne. He was the only one not bound by blood or heritage to the rest of the small gathering. "I had heard that Ser Hobber is not yet wed, though he is to be your heir, my lord..."
"Indeed, I aim to change that soon," the elder lord replied, as though he had been expecting the words.
OOC: Behold, the Western Ship league, and before anyone objects to Imperialists and Monarchists in the same faction they are not really that different, so long as the monarchists are among those who are most content with the throne.