Chapter 102: The Council (2)

Kass continued.

"He has already asked questions about the forest that most of you did not think to ask. I simply think that this council requires a man who asks the right questions."

Encrid’s eyes remained lowered.

Kass leaned back.

"I have nothing else to add."

Tolm Bree opened one of his ledgers.

"I do."

He turned several pages.

"These are the Fourth Watch’s supply returns from the last two winters."

He looked toward Encrid.

"Three days after I requested a complete reconciliation, the Third Office returned it."

Dane said, "And?"

"All of the calculations here are correct."

Bree closed the ledger.

"That is all."

Someone at the table gave a quiet laugh.

Bree looked at them.

"You laugh because you think I am making a small argument, but I am not."

He rested his hand on the ledger.

"Three days. I asked for something that should have taken weeks. He produced it in three days, and when I checked the numbers, they were right."

Bree looked around the table.

"How long has it been since anything on this Wall was correct three days after we asked for it? Or do you guys know someone who could correctly give an account for something that happened a year back if we ask them to provide it in three days?"

No one answered.

Bree nodded once.

"Yeah, I thought so. That is my argument."

Garrick Dane spoke next.

He looked at Encrid.

"I have no doubt that Encrid is competent."

"Thank you," Encrid said, not missing the opportunity.

Dane, however, ignored the interruption.

"But competence is not the same as authority."

He folded his hands.

"This Council is not a collection of specialists. It is the body responsible for deciding how the Wall operates. Every person sitting here has spent years commanding soldiers, managing people, or maintaining some part of this fortress."

His gaze moved toward Encrid.

"What has he commanded? Nothing. What has he led? A clerk’s office. And now we want to give him a permanent vote over the people who actually do those things?"

Dane shook his head.

"That is my objection."

Lund spoke after him.

"My concern is slightly different."

She looked at Encrid.

"I do not doubt his usefulness. I have seen the results myself."

Dane glanced at her.

"But usefulness does not answer the question of what this seat is supposed to do."

She folded her hands on the table.

"If we create a new seat because one man has become useful, what happens when he leaves? Do we remove the seat? Give it to his replacement? Do we turn it into a Quartermaster’s seat?"

She looked at the Lord Commander.

"We are not simply choosing a man. We are changing the structure of this Council. I want to know what the seat of Chief Strategist is responsible for."

Encrid thought that was a fair argument.

Lund continued.

"I am not saying he should never sit here. I am saying we should know what we are creating before we create it."

Ostrand finally spoke.

"I agree with part of that."

He looked toward Encrid.

"I have worked with him. He is intelligent, cautious, and considerably less foolish than I expected when I first met him."

A few people smiled.

"But intelligence can become dangerous when it is not accompanied by experience."

Ostrand’s voice remained calm.

"I want to know how he behaves when his calculations are wrong."

Encrid considered that.

"I suppose you will find out eventually."

Ostrand nodded.

"That is exactly what worries me."

Ysolde Marr had been silent until then.

She leaned forward.

"I have a question for the petitioner."

Everyone looked toward her.

She looked at Encrid.

"Why do you want the seat?"

The question was simple enough.

Encrid considered for a moment before he answered honestly.

"Because I believe something is coming from the forest."

A few faces changed.

Ysolde continued.

"And you believe sitting on the Council will allow you to prepare for it?"

"Yes."

"Even if the Council disagrees with you?"

"Especially then."

That answer seemed to interest her.

Ysolde leaned back.

"At least he is honest."

Fold gave a quiet scoff.

"Honesty does not make him right."

"No," Ysolde agreed. "It does not."

She looked at Encrid again.

"But I would rather have a man sitting here who tells me what he thinks is coming than one who tells me what he believes I want to hear."

Fold’s expression hardened.

Bastian Ryn spoke after that.

"I do not think Gannon is unqualified."

Encrid looked at him.

Ryn sighed.

"I know what I said before."

"You said you would vote against me."

Encrid nodded.

"I still will."

A few people looked amused.

Ryn continued.

"The problem is not that I think he is incapable. The problem is what happens if we start giving permanent Council seats to young men because they have shown promise."

He glanced at Encrid.

"If he gets one now, the next ambitious officer will ask why he cannot have one. Then the one after that."

He shook his head.

"I think he should wait."

"How long?" Encrid asked.

Ryn hesitated.

"Ten years."

Encrid stared at him.

Ryn gave him an apologetic look.

Erol Vask remained silent throughout.

Lord Commander eventually looked toward him.

"You have not spoken."

"I have nothing to say."

"Do you not have an opinion?"

"I do."

"And? Would you like to speak?"

Vask looked at Encrid.

"No."

Ulrich frowned.

Vask simply leaned back.

The discussion continued for some time.

Some supported Encrid because of his competence.

Some supported him because of the warning he had brought before the Council.

Others believed he was too young, too inexperienced, or simply too dangerous to give a permanent vote.

There was no consensus.

Eventually, Lord Commander Vance raised one hand.

The room fell silent.

"We have heard enough."

He looked around the table.

"The Council has not reached an agreement."

He paused.

"In that circumstance, the oldest law of this Council applies."

Several of the commanders straightened.

Encrid knew the rule.

When a matter formally brought before the Council could not be settled by agreement, it had to be decided by vote.

Vance placed both hands on the table.

"We will vote."

The chamber became still.

Encrid remained standing beside the door.

For the first time since he had entered the chamber, he allowed himself to breathe slowly.

Whatever happened next would no longer be decided by persuasion.

It would be decided by numbers.

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