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"Everyone move in order to the designated area. Men to the left, women to the right. Tell the scribe in front of you where you come from and what work you can do."
Several miles north of Highgarden's walls, men in worn armor stood every dozen yards or so, shouting through makeshift wooden speaking tubes.
Rick, who had smeared mud over his face beforehand to hide his healthy complexion, blended in among the countless refugees from King's Landing and observed his surroundings as if by accident.
Apart from the Highgarden soldiers shouting through strange wooden speaking tubes, the men maintaining order among the refugees surprised him somewhat.
They also wore worn armor, but they carried no longswords or spears. Instead, each held a thick staff about a yard long.
Large groups of cavalry in fresh armor roamed farther away and did not approach, perhaps because they disliked the strange stench of so many refugees gathered together.
'Highgarden soldiers differ this much in equipment? I must remember this carefully.'
After marking what he considered useful intelligence in his mind, Rick twisted his slightly itchy back and muttered in a voice too soft to hear clearly, "I've been mixed in with these refugees so long I have not bathed in ages. My whole body feels damned uncomfortable.
"Thinking of the special entertainment arranged for me after I met Lord Tywin still stirs me.
"Tch. I need to scout more important intelligence. Once I receive a rich reward, I will enjoy myself properly."
Rick was a spy Tywin Lannister had sent to Highgarden.
Rick believed his excellent scouting ability had won recognition, which was why he had been personally received by Tywin in King's Landing.
After a night of special entertainment, several Lannister soldiers whose faces were completely covered escorted him into the refugees being driven by force from the River Gate. He then traveled south with them to Highgarden.
While the great mass of refugees outside Highgarden's northern wall was being settled in an orderly manner, the inner castle's council hall was holding a meeting that would decide the lives and deaths of hundreds of thousands.
Lord Mace slammed his fat palm on the long table and said sharply to Lord Randyll, "Lord Randyll, what rotten advice are you giving His Grace?
"Keep them? These are hundreds of thousands of mouths at the least. How much grain will they consume every day?
"Where will that grain come from? Or is House Tarly willing to contribute its stored grain?"
"Lord Mace, what I just proposed was keeping the able-bodied among the refugees. In my eyes, keeping them means keeping both labor and recruits. They can create value of their own.
"Some time ago, the white ravens from the Citadel announced the end of the long summer. Autumn should still last at least a year or so. If we use them well, we can still gain one or two harvests.
"Since our current strength is superior to Tywin's, why do we not use that advantage fully and crush him directly?"
Lord Randyll would not fall for Lord Mace's provocation. He avoided the question of grain and calmly stated why he wanted to keep the able-bodied refugees.
"Lord Randyll."
When Randyll finished, Olenna, who rarely spoke in council unless necessary, called his name.
"Lady Olenna, please speak."
Lord Randyll immediately turned to Olenna and answered respectfully.
"First, if you observed carefully, you would see that most of these refugees move as families.
"Therefore, 'keeping only the able-bodied' is a rather childish phrase. If that order is given, it will inevitably create unimaginable chaos.
"Second, the long summer has ended, and autumn usually lasts a year, yes, but Westerosi seasons are unpredictable. The false spring that lasted only two months more than a decade ago is proof enough.
"Third, even if everything you said before went smoothly, where would such a number of refugees plant crops?
"Do not speak of the burned lands around Highgarden. Those lands must be planted by the commoners repairing Highgarden. His Grace promised them that before."
Olenna stated her view of Randyll's proposal without wasting a word. She spoke slowly, each word clear, and when she spoke, she carried an authority that made everyone listen carefully.
"Yes. What Mother said is exactly what I wanted to say."
Rarely sharing Olenna's opinion, Lord Mace immediately echoed her with excitement on his face.
After Olenna pointed out the three key problems, Lord Randyll frowned slightly and for the moment could not answer.
"Then... can we do as His Grace proposed before, and have them work in exchange for food?
"They are, after all, hundreds of thousands of His Grace's subjects. There are so many lovely children among them. How could we bear to watch them starve?"
Whether to maintain her image or out of genuine kindness, Margaery joined the discussion with worry across her face after Randyll fell silent.
"Margaery, I know you have always been merciful, but you cannot be too merciful in this matter. Highgarden simply does not have that much work."
Margaery had not yet formally become Robb's queen, so Lord Mace simply called her by name and shook his head in refusal.
Robb, who had been quietly listening, saw the council hall fall silent after Mace finished. He spoke in his deep voice.
"The Reach is flat and open, its soil fertile, and the Mander makes irrigation easy. That is why it is called the grain basket of the Seven Kingdoms. But in truth, the Reach still has a great deal of unused land.
"I mean the low hills found everywhere.
"Of course, some flatter hills have already been used, with castles built on them, as Highgarden itself was. But if the many abandoned low hills are opened up and put to use, the Reach's crop output this autumn will double."
The nobles in the council hall exchanged glances when Robb suddenly began speaking of opening farmland. These were nobles who had always cared only about the grain entering the storehouses after harvest, not how crops grew. For a moment, none knew how to answer.
Willas, whose knowledge was broad enough, spoke tactfully. "Your Grace, you may not know the details here well, having only recently come to the Reach.
"Over these thousands of years, every piece of land in the Reach that can be planted has already been cleared and cultivated. The low hills you mention are wasteland in everyone's eyes.
"Leaving aside how much time and labor it would take to transport water from the Mander basin up onto the hills, how could anyone farm slopes with no flat ground where even standing is difficult?"
"Ser Willas's question is very good. That question points to exactly how I will solve Highgarden's refugee problem.
"Highgarden truly does not have enough work for hundreds of thousands of refugees, but the Reach does.
"We will cut the hills into flat steps and build channels to bring water for irrigation."
Robb's final sentence seemed to echo through the council hall, stunning every noble seated there.
Cut the hills into steps. Dig channels to bring water.
Westeros's history had seen many bold ideas. There were bold ideas in war, such as building the magnificent Wall.
There were bold ideas in noble castle building, such as Harrenhal, built for giants, and the Eyrie, built on a sheer cliff.
But for thousands of years, no one had proposed a bold idea in farming.
Until today, when Robb Stark proposed one at Highgarden.
"Your Grace, are you serious?"
Willas, thinking he had heard wrongly, could not keep the tremor from his voice.
"Of course. From the map, the Reach's low hills are mainly concentrated in two areas: the north near the golden mountains of the Westerlands, and the southeast near the Red Mountains of the Dornish Marches.
"Because the region east of the Mander is still controlled by the enemy, I intend to use Goldengrove, which happens to be built near a tributary of the Mander, as the test site.
"After the hills near Goldengrove are successfully opened, we will slowly spread outward."
Robb nodded and seriously laid out the plan he had considered.
"Your Grace, please consider this carefully."
"Your Grace, there has never been a precedent for planting on hillsides. If our ancestors did not do this, surely it was because it cannot work."
"Your Grace, let me drive these refugees away. We can claim I acted on my own."
Seeing that Robb had even chosen the place and clearly did not mean it casually, the nobles burst into fierce objections.
"My lords, this proposal is not an empty fancy. I have already learned the method, and I am confident it can be done.
"In the Westerlands, I once encountered a spellcaster from Volantis. While speaking with her, I learned this technique of terraced fields from distant Yi Ti.
"Ser Crey, you should remember that spellcaster."
"Yes, Your Grace. She was a Moon Singer from Volantis."
Hearing Robb's question, Crey immediately nodded and answered.
Of course, he did not know whether King Robb had truly learned the method from that spellcaster.
Only then did the nobles' agitation settle somewhat.
Seeing that his lie had begun to work, Robb waited quietly for the nobles to think through the advantages terraced fields would bring them.
As for whether the lie would be exposed, Robb was not worried in the slightest.
In his previous life, he had worked in a city famous for its mountains and waters. During his free time, he had often seen magnificent terraced fields.
Even now, he still roughly remembered some knowledge about opening terraces, whether he had studied it deliberately or picked it up in passing.
Opening terraced fields was not an especially advanced technique. With knowledge from his previous life, they only needed to test it in a few places and improve it through practice.
Seeing that Robb seemed truly confident about opening the hills, Olenna reached her own judgment. When the other nobles were still discussing doubtfully, she deliberately asked Robb loudly.
"Your Grace, we must spend such effort and wealth on these refugees. Is it worth it?"
"If the terraces are successfully opened, every noble's harvest will double. Correspondingly, the more new terraces are opened, the more commoners and soldiers their lands can feed.
"That means that even if the domains of every noble lord here remain unchanged, the strength they command will greatly increase.
"Lady Olenna, I think you should ask everyone whether it is worth it."
Seeing that no one had mentioned this point for so long, Robb used Olenna's question to state it plainly.
"Yes. If terraced fields can truly be opened as His Grace says, our lands will certainly become richer."
"Ha! Most of our family's lands are hills. This is excellent!"
"The most important thing is that we do not need to pay much. We only need to provide some grain and let those refugees do the work.
"Worth it? It is more than worth it."
Once Robb pointed out the key, all the nobles predictably began voicing support.
Watching the atmosphere in the council hall change in an instant, Olenna met Robb's eyes casually. A faint smile touched her lips, and she said no more.
"Since everyone supports my proposal, I believe you will all be willing to donate some grain for the refugees who will open the terraces.
"Rest assured. After the terraces are opened successfully, the grain harvested this autumn will be returned to everyone in proportion to what you donate now.
"At the same time, after I sit the Iron Throne, the order in which future terraces are opened will be arranged according to the amount of grain donated.
"I assume no one has any objection."
After stating his final purpose, Robb swept his clear ice-crystal eyes over every noble present.
"Your Grace, on behalf of House Tyrell, I donate one million bushels of wheat."
"Your Grace, our family's grain stores are not especially large. May gold dragons be converted into grain value?"
"Your Grace..."
Under the double pressure of future benefit and Robb's authority, every noble in the council hall declared willingness to donate grain.
"Good. Ser Willas will manage the matter of grain donations. After the council ends, speak with him."
Seeing that his purpose had been achieved, Robb pointed to Willas, who was still somewhat stunned, and spoke. Then he continued.
"We have now settled the broad direction for handling these refugees. But we cannot be careless in the details.
"One point that concerns me is what Lord Randyll said just now: our military strength is superior to Tywin's.
"Tywin must know he is at a disadvantage in numbers. By rights, he should be conscripting enough new soldiers, even if only as bodies to throw into battle.
"Yet he sent such an enormous number of refugees directly to Highgarden. Was it truly only to make trouble for us? Or does he hope these refugees will hold back our attack?"
"Oh, Your Grace, so you already thought there was something wrong with these refugees. That is why you specifically used the nearly ten thousand prisoners who had surrendered to maintain order, while our Tyrell cavalry only supervise from outside."
Lord Mace looked suddenly enlightened.
"Yes. I have already arranged these refugees into separate areas by sex. Once the count is finished, we can begin the next selection.
"Crey, you will oversee this matter. Sort out the numbers and information on these refugees as quickly as possible and root out the spies hidden among them.
"Then keep the refugees with special skills. The rest will all be organized into teams for opening terraced fields."
"Yes, Your Grace."
With Crey accepting the order, the meeting that would bring Westerosi agriculture into a new age came to an end.
In the Riverlands, at Riverrun, the main keep shattered by wildfire had largely been dismantled. Reconstruction had already begun.
Different from before, the water gate beneath the main keep would not be rebuilt. It would be sealed permanently.
The rebuilt main keep would still follow the traditional style of the old keep.
After the Blackfish, Brynden, made his routine visit to Lord Hoster, who now had almost no waking time, he came before the keep under construction.
Footsteps sounded. Edmure, his maimed left hand tucked inside a long sleeve and a raven letter in his right hand, hurried toward Brynden.
"Uncle, a letter from Harrenhal. Those refugees who fled from King's Landing have rebelled under the Brotherhood Without Banners.
"They began from the eastern edge of the Riverlands and have taken Maidenpool and Saltpans. After killing every noble in those towns, they divided the nobles' wealth and lands among the refugees."
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