Chapter 268: Questions for the Strategist [BONUS]

"Before Inquisitor Varne begins, I have one question of my own. It concerns the Winter Oath."

Grane said it as soon as Encrid sat down. They were in the same small room in the keep where the Inquisitors had questioned everyone else, with a narrow window and a table covered in the Wall Council’s water-stained minutes and three of Vess’s ledgers. Varne sat beside Grane with her notebook open and her pen ready.

Encrid was quite taken aback.

Winter Oath was the name of his sword - even he had only learned about it when Appraisal’s proficiency increased - so he was wondering how the Inquisitor learned about it. Of course, he didn’t let it show on his face.

"Your father told me," Grane went on, "that on the bridge you used a relic of your house. A seal of frost, set into the guard of the Gannon war-sword and unused for nine generations. He says that is where the extreme cold and incredible power you displayed came from, and that it is spent now."

Both Inquisitors were watching Encrid’s face as Grane said it.

Encrid kept it still, but his thoughts moved very fast. The Inquisitors had been to the Gannon estate before they came north, and somebody had asked his father where his son’s power came from.

The Duke of the North, a man who weighed every word as though it cost him gold, had answered with a story about a sword. He had put his name and the name of his house to something he could not possibly know was true, something that would break him with it if it ever broke, all to keep him safe.

’He lied,’ Encrid thought. ’For me.’

It was a strange feeling, and he did not have time to understand it. He knew only that if he added a single detail, what the seal looked like, how it felt, where on the guard it sat, Grane would check it. Somewhere, it would fail to match. The safest answer was one that gave him nothing to check at all.

"Then my father has told you everything worth knowing," Encrid said.

"You won’t describe it?"

"My father is the head of my house, Inquisitor. When he has spoken for it, I don’t add to what he said."

Grane studied him for another moment. Years of experience as an Inquisitor told him that both father and son were playing a game with him. The trouble was, he had yet to find anything substantial enough to challenge them on.

So, he gave a small nod, as if that was more or less what he had expected, and turned to Varne.

"Inquisitor."

Varne opened one of Vess’s ledgers and turned it toward him.

"The Steward’s records show you asking about grain stores eleven weeks before Master Corr returned from the Great Green Forest," she said. "Before anyone knew a horde existed. Why?"

"Because of the javelins," Encrid said.

Varne waited.

"In my first month, I found that the Wall had paid for four thousand javelins that didn’t exist. They were in the ledger and not in the racks. After that, I counted everything. Grain was next on the list." He touched the page. "The Third Office audit is in the ledger under it. You’ll find the javelins first, then the grain."

Varne checked, found them, made a note and moved on.

"Master Corr says you wrote five letters on the night the warning went out. To whom, and when?"

"On the fourteenth night before the Reevers reached our trenches. Corr will have the exact date. He keeps better records than I do." Encrid counted on his fingers. "One to the Crown’s petition desk in Caelmar. One to my father. One to my sister. The other two were private."

"To whom?"

"To people who might help, if the first three didn’t. Both of them showed up thankfully."

"Who?"

"The Grand Magus - the one who made sure that the horde didn’t reach south of span and the other was the one who helped me survive. I’ve already told the Inquisitor-Captain that I won’t bring trouble to his door."

Varne glanced at Grane, and when he said nothing, she went on.

"What did the letter to the capital say?"

"Forty thousand Roamers are heading towards the wall with an Elder. The date I expected them. And a request for at least two legions." Encrid paused. "If nobody has lost it, it’ll be in the Hall of Petitions."

Beside her, for the first time that morning, Grane picked up his own pen and wrote something down.

"The Center Gate," Varne said. "It was opened while its winch crew was away eating bread at the eighth hour. The order that sent them was yours."

"It was signed by me, Yes. But the idea was taken from Commander Ostrand. He’d been feeding the Eastern Gate that way for years, and it worked very well when we were defending against the horde, so on the fourth day of the siege I gave it to the whole Wall. It’s in the Council minutes for day four."

"Then Trask knew exactly when the crew would leave."

"Everyone knew. That was the point of the order. Men who know when the bread is coming don’t leave their posts to look for it." Encrid was quiet for a moment. "Trask knew too. I should have considered the possibility of traitors. I didn’t - that was my mistake."

Varne wrote it down exactly as he said it.

"Wilm Trask voted for your seat on the Council," she said. "Why would a traitor want you there?"

"I’ve thought about it a great deal too. He voted for almost everything that year. Grain, cores, the school. Everything that contributed even a little bit more to stopping the horde - I am afraid I don’t know the reason,." Encrid looked at the minutes on the table. "But I can tell you what he told me - he said he believed I would distract the council and that would make their work easier to execute."

"So he used you."

"He wanted to, but he underestimated me too much."

Grane looked at Encrid.

The man was almost boasting about himself but for Grane it looked more like confidence.

Varne turned to a fresh page.

"On the bridge. What did you do?"

"I held it like others," Encrid said. "What it looked like, others can tell you better than I can. The Grand Magus was there. My sister. Gus. I was inside it. From inside, it was mostly cold and very loud."

Varne looked at him for a while.

A few more questions followed, some from Varne and some from Grane - Encrid answered all of them calmly and to the best of his ability without giving them any edge.

Then Varne closed her notebook, which seemed to mean she was finished, but she was not.

"One last question, Lord Encrid," she said.

"What are you hiding?"

Grane did not move. He simply watched. Encrid thought about the windows that hung in front of his eyes whenever he looked at someone, about the dragon somewhere above the ridge and the iron box in the room upstairs, and about fifteen volumes of a story that had not happened yet.

"Mostly," he said, "how tired I am."

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Bonus Chapter for 500 powerstones (2/3). Thank you~