Chapter 280: Denouncing the Greats (Part 1)
The Chief Logistics Officer, who had been gone for two months, had suddenly returned. Upon arrival, he had stripped off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, looking aggressive and ready for a fight—and he had even ordered the brothers to come and watch! This news spread like wildfire through the towers and under the eaves of Castle Black. Countless men of the Night's Watch—those who had already voted, those who hadn't, and those just about to—stepped out of their quarters and converged on the Great Hall, the site of the election.
Time was of the essence. Egger didn't wait for the audience to fully assemble; he led his men straight toward the battlefield. The news of his arrival reached the room half a step before he did. The cellar, which had gradually grown quiet after a morning of deliberation, erupted into life again: a symphony of greetings, curses, and laughter mixed with the sound of tables being pounded and feet stomping.
Egger stepped into the cellar and was first spotted by Pyp, who was keeping a sharp eye on the door. Pyp put two fingers in his mouth and let out a shrill whistle—a specialty he'd mastered as a boy in a mummers' troupe. The scream of the whistle cut through the din like a sword. The hundred or so brothers remaining in the hall fell silent, and a stillness spread through the room as quickly as the chill pouring in from outside. In the end, only the sound of Egger's footsteps descending the stairs, the sound of breathing, and the faint crackle of logs in the hearth remained.
Everyone held their breath, watching the impending clash between titans.
...
"Lord Chief Logistics Officer, you have returned." Even knowing the visitor came with ill intent, Ser Denys Mallister greeted him with a smile; politeness and courtesy had become his second nature. "You certainly accomplished much during your journey to the North."
"The Logistics Department was hindered in fulfilling its duties; naturally, I had to step in. It was merely the call of duty, nothing worth mentioning." Egger knew that if he followed the old man's cynical lead, the other would accuse him of interfering in the war between the North and the Iron Islands. He couldn't take the bait; he had to strike first. "I have been busy beyond measure, but what the hell have you been doing? I was gone for two months and a Lord Commander still hasn't been chosen—and now, you've all withdrawn to support a recruit who joined the Watch barely a year ago?"
Cotter Pyke was not as polite as Ser Denys. He gave a cold snort, his small eyes glaring fiercely at Egger. "Who we choose to support is our business. It's none of yours."
"None of mine? You are electing the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, the future leader of me and every brother in black, the commander of the Shield of the Seven Kingdoms against the ancient enemies of mankind! This is a matter of life and death for everyone. How can you say it's none of my business?!" Egger spoke one word at a time, slowly walking past the long tables until he stopped at the front row. Across a distance of two meters, he raised a hand and pointed at Yohn Royce. "You've spent two months meddling, and in the end, you put forward this fellow? What qualifications does he have to run for Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?"
Since crossing into this world, Egger had made an effort to remain friendly regardless of the time, place, or person—not just for simple reasons like peace breeds wealth or more friends mean more paths, but for a more critical reason: his rise was built almost entirely on persuasion or, more accurately, manipulation. To gain support and help with nothing but your mouth, you first required people to be willing to stop and listen to what you had to say—and you couldn't achieve that without basic courtesy.
But Yohn Royce... First, Egger had caused the death of one of his sons, and then, during the Vale rebellion, Egger had offered a plan to King Robert just to show his face, which resulted in Royce being exiled to the Wall. Royce had specifically followed Cotter Pyke to Castle Black to ambush Egger and find trouble. Egger had merely avoided the brunt of the storm by leaving before the confrontation, only to return suddenly when the other was most off-guard.
Since the two were destined never to be friends, Egger decided to show no mercy at all.
He would strike first, launching a verbal assault so fierce the man wouldn't be able to fight back.
To be pointed at and told to his face that he was unqualified would make even a man of clay fly into a rage, let alone Bronze Yohn Royce, who already viewed Egger as a mortal enemy. He stopped his attempt to solicit votes from a nearby soldier, clenched his fists, and stood up to meet Egger's gaze.
Emotionally, Yohn Royce desperately wanted to plant a fist in the face of the despicable villain before him and put an end to his incessant babble. But reason stayed his hand. To strike a high-ranking officer and a challenger in the Great Hall of Castle Black, in full view of everyone, would make the situation spiral out of control. The Night's Watch was a military organization, and its requirements for discipline were stricter than anywhere else in Westeros: you could argue all you wanted, but the first person to throw a punch lost.
Yohn Royce was tall, but he was an old man. Standing before Egger, even standing at his full height, he appeared slightly shorter. This caused the old man's attempt to reclaim the psychological high ground to fail.
"I have no qualifications? Then what qualifications do you have to tell others they are unqualified?"
"Does one have to be a chef to judge the taste of a dish? I am not a candidate; I am merely questioning your ability. What qualifications are needed for that? However, since you asked the question, I would be happy to discuss my qualifications!" The provocation worked perfectly; this confrontation was following Egger's script from the very beginning. But he couldn't be careless; the opponent already held more than half the votes. He had to win a decisive victory to stop him from becoming Lord Commander. "Since I became Chief Logistics Officer, I have personally or through my agents brought over a hundred new recruits to the Watch; I have provided over five hundred gold dragons in cash; I have delivered grain worth over a thousand gold dragons, no less than ten thousand pounds of various meats, and enough dragonglass weapons to fill this entire hall!"
"One-tenth of the current members of the Night's Watch were brought to the Wall by me personally or by people I sent. For the past two years, every brother in this Watch has had at least one meal a week with meat and fat paid for out of my pocket. Even the lowest soldier now has more than one change of clothes, socks, and shoes, as well as warm coats, thickened bedding, gloves, and boots... All these things, if you flip over the lining, are embroidered with the insignia of the Night's Watch Logistics Department! Not to mention the wildfire I dragged from King's Landing and Queenscrown to stockpile in every stronghold! My contribution to the Night's Watch is my qualification!" Egger stared into Royce's face and roared at the top of his lungs, leaving no room for a counterattack. "Compared to the thousands of years of support from the North and the Gift-dwellers, what I provide is a mere trifle, nothing to brag about. But for everything I have done, the Watch has not provided a single man or a single copper in support; I completed it all independently. I am the Night's Watch Logistics Department, and the Logistics Department is me! Among the living brothers of the Watch today, I am the most qualified man here!"
...
The note Sam had given Egger was a list, detailing every supply Egger had provided to the Watch since he left for King's Landing. It was so thorough—down to every gold dragon, every pound of grain and meat, every garment and weapon—that it served to remind Egger: use these irrefutable, real-world contributions to shut everyone's mouths.
If one counted the Westermen elites who accompanied Jaime Lannister to the Wall, Egger had indeed brought over a hundred recruits. Aside from that slight exaggeration, every other figure was genuine, if not an understatement.
Yohn Royce had intended to take the position of Lord Commander today in one fell swoop, placing himself in an unassailable position to settle scores at his leisure. Although Sam's public disruption that morning had ruined his best chance for a quick victory, by the time Egger walked through the cellar doors, eight hundred votes had already been cast, and nearly six hundred of those were for him... According to this trend, as long as the remaining two hundred votes didn't all go to someone else, he would be elected Lord Commander by nightfall, even with some abstentions.
Royce had not expected Egger to return to Castle Black today, nor had he prepared in the slightest for a debate. Egger, however, had come prepared specifically to target him. Caught off guard, how could Royce withstand the assault? He wasn't sure of the accuracy of the data. He was speechless for a moment and instinctively looked toward the Chief Steward in charge of the stores and the commander of Eastwatch, Cotter Pyke. Seeing both remain silent, he realized the claims were likely true. He paused to consider a strategy and finally spoke after a long silence.
"Your contributions to the Night's Watch cannot be erased. But as Chief Logistics Officer, logistics is your duty. While you were comfortably providing support from the rear, we were fighting hard on the front lines. Every brother who risks his life to guard the Wall contributes no less than you!"
"I do not dispute the idea that the front-line brothers contribute as much as logistics," Egger shrugged. "However... we? I'd like to ask, Lord Royce, as a member of the rangers, how many patrols have you participated in beyond the Wall? How many wildling raiders have you killed? How many Others? I am but a humble man, yet I have participated in nearly twenty patrols and killed an Other. There are plenty of brothers who have patrolled more than I have, but as for those who have killed more Others for the Night's Watch... I'm sorry, to my knowledge, there are none. What do you have to say to that, my lord?"
...
(Egger was once a ranger too!)
Yohn Royce felt a surge of annoyance. He had been so dazed by the storm of words that he had forgotten that detail.
When he was sent to the Wall by King Robert after his failed rebellion, the Night's Watch had already ceased routine patrols to the north. Where would he have had the chance to build a record? As for the Others—those intelligent, magical beings—how could they be as foolish as wild animals, just waiting for someone to kill them? Aside from the one Egger killed, in the subsequent large-scale operations beyond the Wall, the Watch had only managed to kill a second one by blind luck in an ambush.
Since then, the Others had rarely even shown their faces.
Strictly speaking, there were only two people in the world today who were alive and had killed one of those things. And of those who had killed more than Egger? Zero.
Egger's contribution to the Night's Watch was massive; no one could deny that. And after he had left Castle Black to avoid the spotlight for two months, the resentment most brothers felt toward him over Commander Mormont's death had gradually subsided. Returning now to talk about contributions reminded everyone of his merits, and they began to think well of him again.
...
(Egger's sudden return has caught everyone off-guard. No one, let alone Royce, can win this argument about contributions.) Ser Denys Mallister quickly realized this. Seeing the brothers of Castle Black pouring through the door to witness the spectacle, he stepped forward to defuse the situation. "Lord Royce has not been with the Night's Watch for long and hasn't had the chance to accumulate battle honors. But if given the opportunity to show his ability, he will prove himself a qualified Lord Commander."
Normally, when things reached this point, any person with a modicum of reason and self-control would choose to take the exit provided and end the argument. But Egger had no intention of stopping. This was a struggle he could not afford to lose; it was a matter of survival. He could not allow a man who loathed him to become Lord Commander. He had no path of retreat.
"Will prove himself?" Egger shifted his gaze to Ser Denys Mallister and gave a cold laugh. "Interesting. I am curious, Ser Denys—what great feats has our Lord Yohn Royce achieved to make you so confident in him? 'Bronze Yohn' is indeed famous in the Vale and the South, but in that nickname, how much is out of respect for the second-greatest house in the Vale, and how much is praise for Lord Royce's own ability and talent?"
Ser Denys remained calm. "The title is a testament to Lord Royce's loyalty, his steadfast will, and his prowess in combat."
"Loyalty and steadfast will? Perhaps. But to put it bluntly, I know many Northmen, and in this frozen wasteland, the thing we lack least is loyalty and steadfast will. As for combat prowess... hmph. I've heard the Royce family owns a suit of ancestral bronze armor, thousands of years old, inscribed with magical runes to protect the wearer from harm." Egger stared back at Royce without a hint of politeness. As he spoke, he walked toward the front podium and turned to face the growing crowd of black-clad brothers so that everyone could hear him. "I can't help but wonder—if 'Bronze Yohn' simply refers to the fact that he owns a suit of bronze armor!"
Yohn Royce's face turned bright red, and the veins on his neck bulged, making one wonder if he was about to have a heart attack. Unfortunately, he was no match for Egger in a battle of wits. After struggling for a long time to find a way to strike back, it was Ser Denys who stepped forward to criticize the speaker. "Lord Egger, to mock a man's nickname and use mere speculation is the height of rudeness!"
"I apologize!" Egger's immediate admission of fault caught them off-guard, but he continued the assault without a second's pause. "But for an ordinary lord who only inherited Runestone because he was the firstborn—a man who failed a rebellion even while holding a natural defense as formidable as the Bloody Gate and was exiled to the Wall, an old man who led the once-second-greatest house of the Vale into decline—I find it very hard to have confidence in his ability. I cannot believe this nonsense about how 'he will prove himself a qualified Lord Commander'!"
...
"Furthermore!" He didn't give Ser Denys a chance to break the momentum. Instead, he turned to the hundreds of brothers in the hall and shouted a question. "In the face of a crisis the likes of which we haven't seen in thousands of years, is a 'qualified commander' really all we need right now?"
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