Lundenhold
POV of Domeric Bolton
"Order! Order!" The older man shouted while banging his wooden hammer. "Officer Torrhen, send the next man in."
Tyrion and Domeric sat at the end of the room, their faces hidden by hoods. They watched the proceedings as the next man, another farmer, entered the room and pleaded his case to the judge.
"His name is Kyle. Known as Old Kyle to the people of his village." Domeric said while looking at the judge. "He was the village elder of his village. He has been in that position for the past 30 years and has taken his village from a forgotten backwater village to one of the most prosperous villages in my land. If there's anyone who knows all about the life of a common farmer, then it is this man."
"He does seem wise," Tyrion admitted that Judge Kyle had held the hearing for the next farmer while they continued whispering at the back of the room. Their voices were not reaching the others thanks to the one-way voice muffling charm he silently put around him and Tyrion when he entered the room, along with a few other charms to make the people ignore their presence.
"When I first turned 10 years old, my aunt had me sit in the Great Hall of the castle and listen to the problems of the men for the entire day. She taught me how to solve those problems for the next two months. Like how to find out when someone is lying about their problems, what to do when two parties conflict, and many other things that I would need to know when I come of age and take over the running of my lands. Though admittedly, Lady Barbrey had already given me control over my lands a great deal earlier than it was required of her."
"So, what happened?" Tyrion asked. "Did you get bored and push off the Hearing to the smallfolk? Letting them solve their own problems and all that."
"In a sense." He admitted. "I am a very talented man, Tyrion. I say this not to brag but as a fact. And I am very knowledgeable about certain things that even the maesters in the Citadel would not know of. But for all my talent and knowledge, I am nothing but a single man. And I cannot take my realm to the heights I wanted if I had to do everything alone. No, that path is complete madness. So, guess what I did?"
"Delegate," Tyrion said with a smile.
"Exactly. You see, I have an eye for talent. You put ten people in a room and give me half an hour with them. By the end of the half an hour, I'll find out which one of them was a fraud, which one of them was a liar, which one of them was a braggart, which one of them was an honest, hardworking man, which one of them was dishonest, which one of them would go the farthest in their lives and which one would likely die by their own foolishness." And that was all true.
He had read the minds of so many people in both his lives that by this point, he could focus on their inner thoughts for a minute and have a pretty good idea of what kind of man or woman that person actually was.
It was both a gift and a curse.
"So, I select the best and put them in charge." He explained to Tyrion. "No bribes. No nepotism. No favoritism. Only the most talented people who show results have the chance to reach the highest position in the guilds I form. And when you put competent people in charge. Good things start to happen."
Tyrion listened intently to him and nodded his head. A surface legilimency probe told him that Tyrion remembered his work in the drains and sewers of Casterly Rock. How good a job he had done, and he was now wondering about his own self-worth.
If the only criterion for getting ahead were to be talented, he would be able to get ahead in life.
"Back to the topic at hand." He said, bringing Tyrion out of his thoughts. "Soon after I started sitting in these hearings, I realized that no matter how good I become at this, I'll never be the best at this job."
At Tyrion's look of confusion, he continued.
"A lord, no matter how sympathetic to the plight of his people, could not truly understand them." He explained. "A lord cannot understand the hunger of a farmer, the greed of a merchant, the danger a captain faces in the sea, the satisfaction a blacksmith gets when completing a masterwork. So, if we don't even understand our people, then how can we hope to sit on a chair and judge them correctly?"
Tyrion looked thoughtful at that and asked. "Is that what this is? You created a system to replace the 'Hearing' held by the lords. Instead of a lord, a farmer is sent to the… a Judge who had once been a farmer and would better understand his problem. A merchant is sent to a Judge who had once been a merchant and could understand him and judge accordingly."
"Correct." He said with a smile. "A tool for the right task. And the task for the right tool."
"And now you sound like my father," Tyrion said in jest, shaking his head.
"I suppose I did there for a moment." He said with a chuckle. "Now come on. I want to show you the Hospital I told you about."
"The place with the healers?" Tyrion asked, and he nodded.
"The first of its kind in the seven kingdoms and possibly the world. I do hope that this practice will pick up and more and more people will become healers. So many people die every year of simple wounds because there wasn't anyone nearby to bandage the wound properly, and it caught an infection. So many women die of childbirth every year when the proper medical care would see them live." He said while looking at Tyrion, who nodded with a morose look on his face.
"I also want to see this Library of Alexandria that the maesters and scholars couldn't stop talking about," Tyrion told him as they walked out of the Court.
"The building is still a work in progress. But if you wish, I will gladly take you there after the visit to the Hospital."
"Let's see this hospital of yours then," Tyrion said with false cheer, his mood a little down after the mention of maternal deaths.
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Ch.132: What Has Mance Got to Do with This
Ch.133: Visiting the Past