Ethan glanced around. The other stall owners were still busy with their own affairs—calling customers, collecting coins, giving change—seemingly indifferent to the scene unfolding nearby. Yet their eyes occasionally flicked over, then quickly darted away.
No one stepped forward to explain what had happened before or what was happening now.
No one seemed to care whether this barely self-supporting boy had suffered an injustice, or whether that same injustice might one day land on their own heads.
The real issue clearly wasn't whether the "protection fee" was actually one silver stag a day.
The issue was the absolute dominance these two thugs—and their "Longfish Gang"—held over the fish market.
Ethan sighed inwardly. The trouble had almost certainly started because someone had seen the silver stag he gave the boy.
"Kevin—give me a silver stag."
Kevin fished one out of the pouch and handed it over. Ethan gripped the coin and turned toward the two thugs.
"This is his fee for today."
The short, fat thug sneered and reached for the coin—only to find it wouldn't budge.
He looked up. Ethan's calm eyes met his narrowed, dangerous glare. Ethan smiled easily.
"I think this shouldn't cause any trouble for the small business owner, right?"
The thug gave a short, ugly laugh.
"I'll give you face—just this once. Let him go today."
This time Ethan released the coin with a gentle flick. It landed neatly in the thug's palm.
The man blew on the silver stag, held it to his ear for a second as though listening to its ring, then pocketed it with satisfaction.
He turned to the boy and snarled, "Kid—you got lucky today. Keep your eyes open next time."
"Remember—in this market, if I say you can sell, you sell. If I say you can't, you can't do a damn thing. See them?"
He waved a thick hand toward the surrounding stall owners.
"If you disappear tomorrow someone else will take your spot. Believe me—there are already people thinking about sending their cousins or nephews to replace you!"
He tapped his own temple in warning, then turned and swaggered off. His partner followed without another word.
Once the two were gone the boy silently righted his overturned cart. One by one he gathered the scattered oysters—many now coated in mud—and placed them back on the cooling stones.
The fire in the clay oven had long since died. The oysters were ruined.
Ethan watched quietly as the young vendor tried—futilely—to salvage his day. The boy completely ignored Ethan standing nearby. Finally Ethan spoke.
"Little friend—I just gave you a silver stag. Aren't you going to say thank you?"
The boy shot him a cold glance.
"I didn't ask you to give it to me."
Kevin bristled.
"Hey—kid! My teacher helped you! Is that how you show gratitude?"
The boy stayed silent.
Ethan raised a hand to quiet Kevin.
"Young boss—one silver stag isn't a small amount. Since you can't do business today anyway—how about this: be our guide and show us around the city. Consider the silver stag an advance payment."
The boy thought for a long moment, then gave a short nod.
"Okay. But only for today."
"If we don't have enough fun we'll hire you again tomorrow—and I'll pay extra."
"Deal!"
After hiding his cart in a nearby alley and covering it with an old straw mat the boy led master and apprentice on a leisurely walk through the outer harbor.
During their conversation Ethan learned the boy's name was Jimmy—a very ordinary name.
Jimmy was eleven—three years younger than Kevin—but his thin frame and small stature made him look even younger.
Two weeks earlier his grandfather—his only living relative—had died at home.
With help from neighbors Jimmy had used every last coin of the family savings to give his grandfather a proper burial.
Afterward he supported himself by selling grilled oysters from a tiny stall in the fish market.
He gathered the oysters himself but still had to buy charcoal and garlic.
After a full day's work most of his earnings went to the Longfish Gang that controlled the market—leaving him barely enough to eat.
But the silver stag Ethan had given him today would keep him fed for a while.
Once they left the oppressive atmosphere of the fish market Jimmy visibly relaxed. He chattered happily with the two until full dark had fallen before they returned to the vicinity of Fishmonger's Square.
Before parting Ethan made an offer.
"Kid—you did well today. Meet me here tomorrow morning—just like today. One silver stag."
Jimmy's eyes lit up. He bowed deeply.
"Yes—thank you, honored scholar!"
All day Jimmy had heard Kevin address Ethan as "Teacher." Given Ethan's refined bearing and educated manner Jimmy naturally assumed he was some kind of traveling maester or learned man.
Ethan didn't correct him.
After Jimmy walked away Kevin asked quietly:
"Teacher—we've already seen most of the places Jimmy showed us today. Do we really need him as a guide again tomorrow?"
Ethan explained:
"Did you notice those two thugs watching us from a distance when we left the fish market?
I'm worried that if he keeps setting up his stall over the next few days something might happen to him.
But if he doesn't work he has no income at all.
To us one silver stag is nothing. To him it's everything."
White Harbor stayed lively well into the night.
Not long after Ethan and Kevin returned to the White Salmon the bard hired by the innkeeper began to play his lyre.
Accompanied by the gentle, flowing notes the bard sang—in a rich, melodic voice—the tale of the legendary knight Ser Duncan the Tall.
Even patrons who cared little for stories found themselves drawn in by the beauty of the singing.
Clearly many felt the same. When the first section of Ser Duncan's tale concluded the common room erupted in enthusiastic applause.
Amid the clapping the bard swept off his hat performed an elaborate bow and then retreated to a quiet corner to rest.
Ethan took a sip of wine.
"Is he finished?"
Kevin shook his head.
"No—as usual he'll take a short break and then continue."
"Have you heard this story before?"
"The tale of Ser Duncan the Tall? I heard it as a child. He became Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and served King Aegon V Targaryen—a true model of knighthood. Every boy who dreamed of becoming a knight grew up hearing his adventures."
"I see… Then what does the 'Trial of Seven' in the story mean?"
Kevin scratched his head trying to explain.
"The Trial of Seven… how should I put it?
It's when someone accuses you of a crime and you deny it. Both sides can demand a trial by combat—letting the Seven Gods decide guilt or innocence."
"A trial by combat is a one-on-one duel—fought either by the accuser and accused themselves or by their chosen champions. The winner proves their side right."
"If either party feels the single combat is unfair they can escalate to a Trial of Seven. The rules are the same: the victors are vindicated the losers condemned."
Ethan asked curiously:
"Then what role do the Seven Gods actually play?"
Kevin answered matter-of-factly:
"They protect the innocent of course."
Ethan gave a dry scoff.
"So the winner is innocent and protected by the Seven—and the loser is guilty. Ha. Doesn't that just mean whoever is stronger or better at fighting can do whatever they want?"
After expressing his clear dissatisfaction with the sacred custom Ethan continued:
"The Trial of Seven is held under the eyes of the Seven—so what about the North? You told me before that Northerners worship the Old Gods."
Kevin shrugged.
"I don't know about other parts of the North—but White Harbor is different. House Manderly originally came from the south. Many southerners pass through here. So far more people in White Harbor worship the Seven than the Old Gods."
Ethan nodded thoughtfully.
If the opportunity arose he decided he would visit one of the Seven's septs here.
To be honest—the identity of "knight" was proving quite useful. There was no exam no certificate no formal license required.
Since he couldn't shake the label anytime soon it made sense to learn more about the doctrines of the Seven and solidify that persona.
At that moment the bard reappeared to loud cheers and resumed his performance.
The next morning Ethan and Kevin dressed neatly and arrived at the agreed meeting place.
Today little Jimmy had not only washed his hair and body—he had also put on his cleanest (though still heavily patched) clothes.
The garments weren't fully dry but it was obvious he took this temporary job very seriously.
When he saw his new employer Jimmy placed a hand over his heart and bowed.
"Good morning honored maester."
"Good morning little Jimmy."
"Where would you like to go today maester?"
"Take us to see the sept of the Seven in White Harbor. We'd like to offer prayers."
"May the Seven bless you maester. The grandest sept in White Harbor is in the inner city—it's called the Snow Sept…"
With Jimmy's cheerful rambling commentary Ethan toured the white-stone Snow Sept and several smaller neighborhood chapels.
Afterward he sent Kevin to continue searching for ships bound for King's Landing.
He himself—guided by little Jimmy—headed to Silversmith Street where the city's gold- and silversmiths were concentrated.
White Harbor was not only a thriving commercial port; the surrounding lands held rich silver mines. Because silver deposits often lay near gold the processing refining and exchange of precious metals was highly developed here.
Ethan carried one hundred Azeroth gold coins. He planned to exchange them for Westerosi gold dragons in this district. Otherwise he would have to haggle over exchange rates every single time he needed local currency—an annoying hassle.
Upon reaching Silversmith Street Jimmy's posture and movements became noticeably more reserved.
This was inner-harbor territory. Street patrols were heavier and the pedestrians were far better dressed.
In his patched rags Jimmy clearly did not belong here. Had Ethan not been walking beside him the boy would almost certainly have been grabbed by the collar and thrown out.
Noticing this Ethan gently patted Jimmy's back.
"Hey kid—stand up straight. Even if it's only for one day you're my follower now. Don't embarrass me."
The words were stern but the tone was kind. Jimmy straightened his shoulders and his expression relaxed considerably.
Ethan smiled.
"Good—much better. Very spirited."
The street was lined with many silversmith shops all with very similar storefronts. Ethan couldn't tell one from another. Jimmy knew nothing about these establishments—they might as well have been on another planet.
So Ethan simply chose a shop that looked clean and prosperous and walked inside.
Behind a counter reinforced with thick iron bars sat an old man with sagging skin and gray hair patiently tapping thin silver bars into shape.
Ethan greeted him.
"Sir?"
The old man paused set down his tools.
"What can I do for you?"
"Can you exchange foreign gold coins for gold dragons here?"
"Where are the coins from?"
"See for yourself."
Ethan placed one Azeroth gold coin on the counter. The old man picked it up examined it closely under the light and said:
"Standard gold coins and gold dragons have a fixed rate. But I've never seen this mint before. May I test its purity?"
"Please."
The old man took a small file scraped a tiny amount of gold dust from the coin's edge weighed it on a delicate scale and handed the coin back.
"If you're willing I can buy it for one and a half gold dragons."
"What if I sell in bulk?"
"Bulk would be cheaper. Scarcity increases value—you understand."
"Very well. I'll think it over."
Ethan left and visited several other shops.
After checking every silversmith on the street he found the rates were all roughly similar.
The best offer was 1.7 gold dragons per Azeroth coin.
Though there wasn't much premium considering the convenience of using local currency going forward he chose the highest bidder and arranged to return the next morning with the remaining coins for a full exchange.
On the walk back toward Fishmonger's Square after leaving Silversmith Street Ethan asked:
"Jimmy—I only have Kevin as my student right now and I'm short a servant who can drive a carriage. Would you be interested in coming with us and doing odd jobs?"
Jimmy visibly tensed.
"Ah—ah—I—I can't drive a carriage."
"You can learn."
Jimmy was still very young and perhaps overwhelmed by the sudden offer. He hesitated for a long time before finally nodding—but then quickly added:
"Scholar—may I think about it?"
"Of course. Tell me your decision tomorrow."
"Okay. I'll definitely give you an answer tomorrow."
After two days together Ethan was convinced Jimmy was clever brave and still pure-hearted.
Moreover Jimmy's situation reminded Ethan powerfully of another friend from Azeroth—Jimmy Boy.
That Jimmy had started as a humble peddler often bullied because he had no connections.
To survive he eventually joined a criminal syndicate rose through its ranks and became its leader—but in doing so lost his innocence and freedom forever.
Ethan did not want this child to follow the same path.
Even more he feared Jimmy might fail to survive that path and end up starving in some dark alley.
After returning to the inn and reuniting with Kevin Ethan learned they still hadn't found a suitable ship to King's Landing.
He could only sigh.
"If nothing works out we'll travel south overland. Craig and the others shouldn't have departed yet. Let's go reclaim the carriage Harry gave me. The three of us can take turns driving—it'll be much easier on you."
Three? Kevin blinked.
"Teacher—aren't there just two of us?"
Ethan slapped his own forehead.
"Oh—I forgot to tell you. I think little Jimmy is quite good. I've been loading too many chores on you lately—it's slowed your training. So I'm considering taking him on as a servant. What do you think?"
"Of course—no problem. But he's very young right now. He can't do much yet."
"It doesn't matter. Even a piece of toilet paper has its uses—let alone a living person."
But plans rarely survive contact with reality.
The next morning when Ethan arrived at the agreed meeting place it wasn't Jimmy waiting for him.
It was another small boy he had never seen before.
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