Moon Man

Yeah, in any case, it's likely he took gold from Winterfell, either to mint into new coinage o to spend on the ships. At first Rodrik defers both proposals for review by the king. We never hear directly if Robb ever approved either, or if Rodrik decided to approve either or hand over any physical gold on his own accord. This tells us nothing by itself. I just think the structure of the chapter is about hinting at some things that float over our eight year old protagonist's head as they happen.

As I say, there are many logical reasons to dismiss this as nothing. My question is why the author chose to structure the chapter in this way. For related reasons, I don't see Ockham's razor as a useful tool for investigating literature. Certainly not mystery stories primarily concerned with perspective, intrigue, and deception. This isn't history or science. That said, I agree it's fairly clear that Manderly built his fleet of his own volition. But did he get money from Winterfell first? Did Robb ever know? These are questions I think we are meant to be able ask after a close reading. Thanks for the details.

Thanks for all this. I do think the big ships vs longship distinction is a possible, logical explanation for why Rodrik deferes one plan but orders another. But for me it's more about the structural element. The order sticks out in a chapter repeatedly about deferring to Robb. Manderly's request is deferred to the king, then a relatively similar plan is approved, and the Manderlys are implicitly ordered to carry it out, and the Umbers ordered to assist. The shades of difference between the two (or three: Manderly, Umber, and Rodrik) plans offers a reason for us to stop looking into it. But the structural foreshadowing of something still calls out to me.

But Rodrik orders the Umbers to supply Manderly with lumber. To "work with" Manderly. Was the Manderly plan already approved by Robb by the time of the Umber meeting? Or did Rodrik decide to approve on his own it between those meetings? Yes, he could be argued to be dreaming up a whole new plan for only longships for defense of the East coast, but we know from Davos later that this is not how the Manderlys interpreted this. They built the big ships. More important for me is what we are to make of the recurrent emphasis on the need to seek Robb's approval and what I see as this singular contradiction. There are lots of logical ways out of this contradiction, such as Robb actually approving the plan by raven. I'm more interested in the pattern and what it might deliberately foreshadow. Thanks for this

Exactly.

I think it's effectively, politically the same who ever is actually in the meeting. They are all representing their lords. I think this is about authority not manners. And for me it's more about the highlighting of a pattern and it's subversion. Thanks for reading

Or another king?

This is very intersting thank you. I was about to reiterate my disregard for the superstructural family/politic allegiances but actually claims to land and title are pretty materially relevant. Thanks.

But Rodrik orders the Umbers to assist in the *Manderly* plan. Was the Manderly plan already approved by Robb by that time or did Rodrik decide to approve on his own it between those meetings? More important for me is what we are to make of the recurrent emphasis on the need to seek Robb's approval and what I see as this singular contradiction. Thanks for reading.

Perhaps. But Rodrik orders the Umbers to assist in the Manderly plan. Was the Manderly plan already approved by Robb by that time or did Rodrik decide to approve it between those meetings? More important for me is what we are to make of the recurent emphasis on the need to seek Robb's approval and what I see as this singular contradiction.

Has anyone ever discussed the fishy circumstances of Rodik ordering the Umbers to provide lumber for the Manderly naval plan in Bran II ACoK? I'd love to see some links or have a discussion on this. I'll tell you what I mean. The Repetitive Structure of the Harvest Festival Meetings In Bran II ACoK, Bran wakes to a Winterfell full of guests for the Harvest Festival. The chapters is largely structured by the audiences each of the Stark bannermen have with Bran as "the Stark in Winterfell", and heavily stresses the need to seek approval from King Robb on all new matters brought before the high seat. That is, except in the case of the Umbers contributing to the Manderly naval plan. Which is more than passing strange, and could indicate something conspiratorial. The Manderly Naval Plan The meetings are administered by Rodrik and Luwin. Before the audiences begin, Luwin implores a wistful Bran to "Listen, and it may be that you will learn something of what lordship is all about." And listen he does, "to old men speak of things he only half understood." The first meeting is with Wyman Manderly. He petitions for approval of new customs officers, pitches minting coin for Robb, and then preposes the building of a war fleet. "Grant me the gold and within the year I will float you sufficient galleys to take Dragonstone and King's Landing both." Bran likes the idea but, as instructed by Luwin, says nothing. Then comes the first invocation of the motif that will define the chapter but for one important contradiction. "Ser Rodrik promised only to send the proposal on to Robb for his consideration, while Maester Luwin scratched at the parchment." Here we see that the administrators claim no authority to approve proposals brought before Winterfell while the King in the North is away at war. They merely offer to bring it before Robb and await his will on the matter. Luwin is taking minutes of the meeting which will, presumably, be sent off to Robb in some form by raven. The Hornwood Issue Then, after midday meal, Manderly makes the first mention of Lady Hornwood's situation and his own proposals of marriage, and then brings up is captive son. Rodrik does directly instruct Manderly not to take any deals from the Lannisters, but it's obvious that this is a matter of settled policy that all the bannermen and Rodrik know Robb's feelings on. The next morning, Lady Hornwood herself discusses the harvest and winter storage, brings up "the bastard of Bolton" for the first time, and mentions her marriage prospects. Rodrik's responses are reassurances of the basic responsibility of Winterfell to uphold the law in the north and protect bannermen from each other. The Umber Contradiction On the third morning of audiences it gets interesting. Mors and Hother Umber come before the high seat. Mors immediately proposes marriage to Lady Hornwood. Once again, Rodrik promises only to bring the proposal before the king. Hother, coincidentally, has come seeking ships. Longships and sailors to help defend the Bay of Seals from wildling incursion. Rodrik is quick to notice the opportunity and the following exchange occurs: "You have forests of tall pine and old oak. Lord Manderly has shipwrights and sailors in plenty. Together you ought to be able to float enough longships to guard both your coasts." "Manderly?" Mors Umber snorted. "That great waddling sack of suet? His own people mock him as Lord Lamprey, I've heard. The man can scarce walk. If you stuck a sword in his belly, ten thousand eels would wriggle out." "He is fat," Ser Rodrik admitted, "but he is not stupid. You will work with him, or the king will know the reason why." And to Bran's astonishment, the truculent Umbers agreed to do as he commanded, though not without grumbling. Somewhat of a departure from the response to the original Manderly proposal. It's possible of course that in the time between the lunch break on day one and the start of the morning Umber audience on day three (something like 44 hours) they have sent and received back a raven carrying instructions from Robb to coordinate the Manderly naval plan with haste and at their discretion. I will return to this shortly. Later on day three the Glover steward comes before Bran and company. They discuss harvest policy and the Hornwood bastard who is ward to Lady Glover. It's here "that Bran soon realized that it was the steward, not Lady Glover, who truly ruled at Deepwood Motte." This highlights the potential power of the position Rodrik holds in Robb's kingdom a page after he gives that order to the Umbers. Bran Sees the Pattern On day four Bran reveals what he has learned, as if to make sure we are paying attention as well. Leobold Tallheart discusses his nephew's raising of a company of lances and possible plans to go South and join Robb. Rodrik instructs that no such action is to be taken, as it has not been ordered so by the king. Tallheart then brings up the Hornwood issue, suggesting that his own son be named heir to the Hornwood lands. This time it's Bran who "knew what to say. "Thank you for the notion, my lord," he blurted out before Ser Rodrik could speak. "We will bring the matter to my brother Robb. Oh, and Lady Hornwood." He had been listening. Every new proposal that is brought before Winterfell in the absence of it's king, save one, is taken to be passed to Robb for his approval. Rodrik and Luwin issue a few orders on grain storage policy and other matters for which it's easy to guess they already have instructions and have been empowered to cary them out. But everything new is a matter for the king. Except the order given to the Umbers to provide lumber for the Manderly naval plan. What could this mean? Clues of Conspiracy There are other fishy things about the Umber audience and the Manderly plan. Firstly, the coincidence that they are also looking for a navy. Secondly, their impolitic resistance to dealing with Manderly at all. Suspicious as I am by nature, it occurs to me that these could be related. I'm always suspicious of the personal, idealistic motivations given by the characters for their political choices. For example, I am immediately suspicious that the undying loyalty of the Manderlys is actually motivated by their gratitude for the Starks of old taking in their itinerant, displaced house and giving them Whiteharbor hundreds of years earlier. A case made explicitly as a performance, I might add, in Davos II ADwD. In the real world, these kind of political narratives are superstructural, the facade over the more material motivations and structural forces that shape history and politics. I tend to think that is how Martin writes it, but that is a discussion for another time. The point is the Umbers rude protestations that they would ever have anything to do with the Manderlys sounds like bull. It's also a great cover against anyone (readers included) getting it in their head that there is, in fact, no naval coincidence at all. By scoffing at the concept of working with Manderly on a navy, they loudly deny, without anyone asking, that they had consulted on the matter before arriving. Suspicious. Over Robb's Head or with His Approval? The chapter is structure around repeating over and over again the importance of deffering to King Robb for any novel decisions. In the last audience, in case we haven't noticed, Bran helps us see the pattern by demonstrating that he has seen it so clearly as to blurt it out of turn, impressing his minders. This should be a strong clue to us that the author is trying to highlight the contradictory example of the Umbers being ordered by Rodrik to cooperate on the Manderly navy plan. Could Winterfell have actually gotten approval, unmentioned by our author, for the navy and instructions to coordinated it as best they saw fit in the 44 hours they hade to turn around Raven communication with Robb? I have no idea. The speed of raven communication isn't something I'm really interested in discussing here. Though I would guess this chapter has been used in the past to speculate about raven travel time. Additionally, seems to me that Robb has left Riverrun well before this time. So there is the added question of whether he is keeping Winterfell apprised of his address on his secret rive into the Westerlands. Seems risky and complicated. This point is impossible to grasp on the first read or without a lot of research that has been done by readers. The next point is plainer to see. There is also some evidence that Luwin is not sending off minutes to Robb at every meal break. After the last audience and the final discussion of the Hornwood conundrum, Rodrik and Luwin discuss all the proposals they've heard and Rodrik says, "We must think on this carefully. Robb should have our best counsel before he makes his decision." This cold imply that they are holding back the minutes, waiting to discuss them all and make recommendations before sending anything to Robb. Indeed, this could be the purpose of the repeatedly discussed Hornwood issue, which is first brought up at the first meeting with Manderly. This invocation of sending their "best counsel" connects the first and last meetings with this idea of delaying those ravens. The Real Questions are Not About Ravenry The question is this: Is the inclusion of perhaps just enough time for a raven to make the round trip built into the timeline of the meetings (which is easily tracked) to allow for Rodrik to confirm that the Manderly plan has been approved by Robb and is going forward? Or is the inclusion of this 44 hours intended by our author to throw us off the sent of something fishy when we begin to look into the odd case of Rodrik's order to the Umbers? We could easily conclude that because it is possible that they've communicated with Robb that they must have, because Rodrik and the Manderlys couldn't possibly be up to anything shady. But of course they could. This is the game of thrones, after all. So what does it mean if there is something shady going on? Firstly, the Manderlys and the Umbers are in on the navy plan from the beginning. They both propose similar ideas, for apparently unrelated reasons. The Umber reticence obscures this coordination. The effect for all who are privy to this information is that the Umbers were forced into this arrangement under protest. But why do the Umbers propose it in the first place? If they are worried about their Manderly cooperation being discovered, why come around asking for shipsat all? Are they just incredibly lucky when Rodrik give them what they want without ever hearing from Robb? No, they must have brought up the issue to give Rodrik the opportunity to give them the order. In this case, Rodrik is in on it, perhaps only being recruited between the two meetings. Perhaps he's being given an opportunity to correct his mistake of not rubber stamping the Manderly plan in the first place. What will it say in the minutes sent to Robb? Speculative Conclusions The Manderlys and the Umbers want to build a navy. The Umbers don't want it known that they were in on this plan from the beginning, which gives them plausible deniability of whatever the navy is really for when it finally happens. Rodrik is also in on this plan, on some level, and the Umber longship request is contrived to confuse the matter of it's approval. It seems they do not want to risk an answer of no from Robb about the ships. Indeed, if they are aware that he has struck out from Riverrun, which they may well be, they may intend for this matter to get lost in the mists of memory before Robb ever hears about it. By the time he hears of it, the confusion will have held, the project will have started, and Bran, the 8 year old boy, may be confused as to exactly what was said to whom. Manderly may be prepared to claim farther down the road that he received the approval to begin immediately at his audience. Luwin and his minutes might have contradicted this, but who knows what plans they might have to deal with that? Of course we might also ask if Luwin is in on it. It's him who oddly tells Bran, "One day you will be a good lord for Winterfell, I think." This prompts Bran to correct him about the likely line of succession of the Kingdom in the North, without even mentioning that in some sense there is no "Lord of Winterfell" anymore. Rodrik covers for him with something about the uncertainty of the future, but its interesting that Luwin and Rodrik here have broken from the party line of Robb's kingdom. It's a slip of the tongue, to be sure, but revealing what? I think I know what they are up to, but that is for another post, and a larger theory. I am interested now in what anyone has to say about this event and this line of thinking. Doubtless it's been talked about about somewhere before, and I'd love to see that. Thanks for reading.

I have a few more scattered thoughts to add to this for further investigation in the future. 1. "The sphinx is the riddle, not the riddler," prophetic girberish told to Sam by the dying Aemon could possibly have something to do with the consciousness of dragon life. The human head on the body of a dragon as seen in Valyrian sphinxes would be an artistic representation of the once human consciousness that is the mind of every dragon. Given that the Valyrians made statues illustrating this point, it may be obvious enough that it was never fully lost to the Targaryens. Imagine Egg and Aemon, having researched the materials available, come to understand this point and that they must put a human consciousness into an egg to hatch it. Meanwhile, their dragon dreams or the interpretation of past Targaryen dragon dreams are telling them "the dragon has three heads". There is a question here, a riddle. If a 'dragon has three heads,' why does the Valyrian sphinx have only one? From their perspective, the existence of these single headed sphinxes made by the dragon lords themselves simultaneously confirms any other suggestion that human consciousness is needed, while confounding the assertion that 'the dragon must have three heads.' In a sense, the sphinx is therefore asking the question. The sphinx is 'the riddler'. Perhaps Aemon is realizing that the sphinx is not actually posing a question because there actually is no contradiction. The Valyrian sphinx is, yes, a representation of human consciousness in a dragon. It is also true that the dragon must have three such consciousnesses. However, the Valyrians feel no need to represent the sphinx with three heads because their dragons have a blended consciousness. A strange concept perhaps to anyone but the children of the forest. The Valyrians knew that the 'three heads' effectively become one. Thus the sphinx is not posing a contradiction, but rather demonstrates the answer to the the meaning of the 'three heads of the dragon" riddle: blended consciousness. 2. Rheago's consciousness being a valid fulfillment of this requirement for egg hatching, as well as the possibility that he was not a still birth but was murdered, brings up the possibility that many Targaryen miscarriages have actually been murders committed to procure suitable human consciousnesses to hatch an egg. 3. While a consciousness might be deposited in an egg upon someones natural death and wait there in storage for quite some time, we should specifically consider all Targaryen deaths near the hatching of dragons as candidates for dragon life. Especially interesting are times when lots of Targs die and dragons are born.

Beautiful. Thank you. This makes perfect sense. In this scenario it would be very natural for people who had seen fresh eggs to conclude that the older eggs in question had turned to stone. We could perhaps quibble as to whether they had turned to literal stone. We could ask whether the hardened scales have turned from proteins into something more mineral, but we might exceed the limits of the citadel's power of magnification and understanding of chemistry. Indeed, avian shells are mostly calcium carbonate which is basically limestone, confusing the issue further. It sounds like Benifer is not aware of any stone egg ever being sawed in half to see what happens to the inside. So the question would remain, are the truly 'stone' or merely stone-like? Even so, this perfectly answers the question of why someone would make this determination and is a very plausible and well thought out possible version. The answer being that they do noticeably, materially change. As for me, since we don't have any of this information and since the claims of eggs 'turning to stone' come from sources who would not have ever seen a fresh egg, I'm forced to wonder if there has not been a misunderstanding. Because of how we hear only dubiously about eggs turning to stone and because Danny's eggs do end up hatching, I think it also makes that the eggs could always have the same weight, feel, and appearance. Post Dance Targaryens and others ignorant of dragon secrets see that they aren't hatching, notice that they look and feel like stone, and conclude that they must have turned from a more egg-like composition into the way they are now. Rather than eggs turning to stone, what has happened is merely a loss of knowledge or lack to begin with. We don't really even know if they ever truly gave off their own heat or if that's some kind of extra sensory hallucination of Danny's and other egg lovers before her. So perhaps because of how I read ASOIAF as a literarily ambitions and experimental work in which the author has challenged himself to tell a coherent story in which all exposition is delivered from the perspective of characters who are nearly always wrong about everything, if I could put money on what's in Martin's head this is the bet I would place.

I'm really not looking for proof of anything. This is more of a thought experiment. I'm trying to asses what you or anyone thinks it could mean when characters in the story tell us some eggs have 'turned to stone'? I'm literally asking what you think has caused them to say this? Is it how they look and feel? If so, what makes the characters who say this think they weren't always exactly as they are? Is it that they've seen healthy eggs and the ones before them are different somehow? How? Do you have any ideas on this?

In your opinion, what were the eggs like before turning to stone? Were they fragile like a chicken egg? Could you crack a fresh one open and fry it? Did they look different? Feel different? If a fresh egg and a 'stone' egg were sitting in front of you, can you describe a possible way to tell the difference? Is it just that they give off heat? Or something more?