Hours passed, and night gave way to early morning. Still, the lords remained in the corridor and waited.
“Either things are going very well, or very badly,” remarked Rog when a maid came to them with a breakfast trolley. No one took much beyond coffee and tea, except Salgant, who was still heaping things onto a plate when the inside doors could be heard opening.
Glorfindel stood up swiftly and moved with the others to the doors. He had been sitting on the floor next to Ecthelion with his back against the wall. Neither had said much to one another all night, but every time even the slightest noise came from the inner chamber, they both tensed. Duilin had simply stared at the doors the entire time.
Now they listened intently – voices could be heard, and then laughter. Before anyone in the hall could question anyone else, the door opened and Erestor stepped into the hallway.
“The King wishes an audience with all of us.” Erestor stood against the door to hold it open. “He is waiting inside the council chamber.”
Slowly, the lords filed in past Erestor. Glorfindel looked over Erestor from a few feet away as everyone else entered. He seemed well, and only a little tired. When only Glorfindel remained in the hallway, he anxiously whispered to Erestor, “What happened? What did he say?”
“Come; we will be late,” prodded Erestor. “You know how Turgon hates one to be tardy.”
Glorfindel bit his lip as he walked into the antechamber and continued into the council room. None of the advocates or advisors were present, so the room felt quite empty compared to how it normally was. As he took his place, Glorfindel looked about for any signs as to what had transpired, but there were none.
The sound of the doors shutting preceded Erestor walking across the room and taking his seat beside Pengolod. Turgon was in his throne at the front, but his body was quite relaxed – he did not sit so stiff and rigid as he often did and as he had when they had first assembled late the previous evening. There were two half glasses of wine sitting on the floor next to the throne, and an empty bottle. Before Glorfindel had time to make any more observations, Turgon stood and commanded the attention of the room. “Exactly what did you expect a vote of no confidence to accomplish?”
Voronwe and Salgant bowed their heads to avoid eye contact with the King; Glorfindel swallowed hard when he was scrutinized by the King, as did many, but he did not look away or appear meek or cowardly as some had. When Turgon drew his focus to his lead captain, he added disappointedly, “Even you, Ecthelion?”
“Aye, but my wish was to stall the issue. Many things have happened, and much too quickly for my liking.”
“And... if you were King, things would happen at your desired pace?” questioned Turgon.
Ecthelion shook his head adamantly. “There is absolutely no reason I would wish anyone but you to be King of Gondolin, or of our kin for that matter. I am proud to serve you, your highness.”
“Usually, a vote of no confidence leads immediately to a coup,” explained Turgon. “You were part of something more than just a democratic action. That is, you would have been part of something more.”
“I had no desire to,” said Ecthelion firmly. “My only concern in all this is Maeglin’s age and lack of current experience.”
“His age and lack of experience? Are you sure you wish that to be your reason? Think carefully on that, Ecthelion.” Turgon pointedly looked at Glorfindel again before turning his attention to Erestor. “I want the majority of our conversation to remain private, else I would have invited an audience. However, there is a part of our discussion I wish for you to share with your fellow council members. Most of them know that they were voting against my decision of placing Maeglin as lord of the House of the Mole. Tell them what else this would lead to.”
Erestor took a deep breath and looked to a blank spot on the wall as he said, “The purpose was to stop the installation of Maeglin. If things turned badly, a second vote would have been called. In the rules established for a no confidence vote, if the vote succeeds but the action fails – that is, if everyone voted to ban Maeglin, but King Turgon had still insisted upon the appointment – then a second vote, called a forfeiture vote, could have been called for. A forfeiture vote is a call for a new King. The majority rule applies to the second vote, and...” Erestor focused his gaze on Ecthelion now. “You were going to be the sole nomination.”
“I would not have accepted,” stated Ecthelion quickly. He looked pleadingly at Turgon. “I knew none of this. You know my loyalty is with you.”
“Then have confidence in me, Ecthelion, and in my decisions. Allow me an explanation of my decision, and then I shall ask for your vote first.” Turgon slowly walked around the room as he spoke now, causing others now to bow their heads in shame as they considered the possible consequences of their King’s wrath. “Let me begin with why I did not choose Celebrimbor before we speak of Maeglin. Celebrimbor is not loyal to Gondolin. Celebrimbor is loyal to his kin. He may not have the temper of a Feanorian, but he is bound to that family by blood. It is not just some superstition; if something happened and they were to call for him, he would drive his army from Gondolin to go to their aid. It is a benefit, then, that he has no army to be called for. It shall remain thus.”
Turgon stopped in front of Glorfindel and said, “I had many, many doubts of my choice in placing you on the council and giving you leave to create an entirely new house. I worried about the resources that would be used, and the displacements that would happen. Most of all, I worried just how someone so young and inexperienced was going to be able to cope with making some of the most difficult decisions to be made. And now, I mean no offense to Ecthelion when I say this, but if I were one of the other council members and the forfeiture vote had been called, I would have nominated you over Ecthelion.”
Unsure of how to answer, Glorfindel bowed his head and looked slightly upset. “Thank you for the compliment, but I highly doubt I have the resolve that you possess. My decisions are less practical and more based upon emotion, and for that I would make a terrible king. We may not agree on every issue – certainly, I am yet cautious of Maeglin – but my loyalty remains to you. I question not because I wish to see you ousted, I question because when I was appointed to this council I was told it was among my duties to aid my King in making the right decisions. I am only doing what I was told to do. My misjudgment is clear to me now, and I will face whatever penalty I must.”
“Glorfindel, look at me.” Turgon waited until Glorfindel lifted his head. “What do you think I am going to do to you?”
“It is clear we made a mistake. If you feel I have wronged you in all of this, and it seemed we all have, it is your right to punish me as you see fit. I will not plead for mercy; my actions were my own, and I should have thought things out more thoroughly first.”
“I am not about to punish anyone,” said Turgon. “Even if I did, it would be very unlikely that you would be on that list.” The King turned his attention back to the rest of the council. “Humility – we would be better off if some of you had half of what he does.”
The King sat down on his throne again. “Maeglin is young and not very experienced. However, he has been to war, and been in battle, and his measure was tested in those dark days many of us shared and are still fresh in our minds. He is skilled at his work, and I have no doubt that his loyalty is to Gondolin. Be certain of this: If he does not fit the council or the position of lord, I will have no qualms over reversing my appointment, be he kin to me or no. As for your vote – Ecthelion, how would you answer now if a no confidence vote was to be called?”
Ecthelion took a long look around the room before answering. “I would stand beside you, your highness. My vote would be against it.”
“Then there is no need to call the vote... is there, Duilin?” Turgon turned his head, and the writer stared back at him. “Duilin? I await your answer.”
“No, your highness.” Duilin’s voice was restrained. There were more words he wished to speak. Glorfindel wondered what else Duilin meant to say, but the King was already making Maeglin’s appointment official, and Glorfindel placed his attention back upon the matter at hand.
When the meeting was adjourned, Duilin and Salgant left quickly, with Rog soon after that. Most everyone else mingled about, with Ecthelion staying close to Turgon. The pair exchanged a few words and then had the council chamber cleared of the other members.
“What happened to that lovely lady with the breakfast cart?” wondered Galdor when they were all in the hallway once again. “Does anyone know where she went?”
“Probably back to the kitchen,” said Erestor. “I think we should organize a search party.”
Egalmoth nodded. “A pastry rescue – we cannot let those poor, delicious tarts go uneaten.”
Glorfindel smiled as he and the others walked through the tower to one of the smaller dining halls. Now that the anxiety had diminished, he found he was a little dizzy and quite hungry. The ground of lords managed to commandeer an empty table and soon after enough pastries and eggs to suitable sate their hunger.
“That was pretty rough for Duilin, being called out like that,” remarked Egalmoth. “He hates being the focus.”
“Was it even his idea to call the vote in the first place?” Voronwe’s question was directed to Erestor, but it was answered by Galdor.
“It was a joint plan, really. I thought I was to be interrogated next, but I suppose Turgon probably tolerates me more than he does Duilin. On the other hand, I was only a party to the no confidence vote.” Galdor turned to Erestor now. “How did you know Duilin was going to attempt a takeover?”
“That part was not Duilin.” Erestor poured another glass of juice for himself. “That was Salgant. Salgant only agreed to the no confidence vote because he assumed Turgon was not going to allow it, or was going to ignore it at any rate. So he agreed to go along with it if we went for the other. I only found out about that just before the meeting was called.”
“And what about Enerdhil – it was odd that Turgon did not say anything more on that.” said Pengolod.
“Turgon was going to kill Enerdhil anyhow,” reasoned Galdor. “Whether he did it, or someone else did it, who cares? It is done.”
“How did you manage it?” asked Egalmoth. All eyes were focused upon Erestor – save for Glorfindel’s, who was looking down at his untouched breakfast with little desire to eat.
Erestor shook his head. “I am not at liberty to say.” A messenger approached the table, bowed, and handed a sealed note to Erestor.
“Something from the King?” asked Voronwe.
The seal was broken and Erestor opened the letter. “No, from Salgant. There is a casting call today, and he is advising me not to show up.” Erestor crumpled the note and tossed it onto the table. “Talk about arrogant – he forgets whose money keeps that theatre operating.”
Glorfindel shrugged uneasily. “Maybe he just needs a day or two to realize that you saved all of our necks.”
“That must be that humility thing Turgon was talking about,” said Egalmoth half jokingly. “Oh, look who is coming to join us,” said Egalmoth as he pointed toward the door. Everyone looked to see Faelion bounding over to the table, a scroll clutched in one hand. “He certainly seems excited.”
Faelion came to a halt at the table the lords were sitting at. “Good morning!” he announced. “Oh, that looks delicious. I would partake, but I must keep my singing voice clear for my audition. You,” he said, pointing the scroll at Erestor, “must come with me.”
“If you are talking about the casting call, I was asked not to show up.” Erestor picked up the note and balanced it on the end of the scroll pointed at him. “Tell your uncle I send my best regards,” he added amid the snickers of Egalmoth and Voronwe.
“I told Uncle that I refused to be in this silly play unless you had a fair shot at it as well. I like to be cast in the lead,” he said, “but I want to get it because I merit it, not because the better actor did not show up to the auditions.”
Erestor considered this briefly. “I suppose without the play, I am out of work.”
Galdor furrowed his brow. “What about your captaincy?”
“I resigned, under duress.” Erestor stood up and pulled the scroll from Faelion’s hand, leaving the note to drop onto the table. “Lead the way; it will be better for me if I do not come alone, though I must say, likely worse for you.”
“I have been accused of being a brat before; today will be no different.” Faelion and Erestor said their farewells to the group and left for the playhouse.
Glorfindel hardly listened to the remaining conversation. He spent most of the time nibbling on toast or pretending to eat. A nap seemed like a much better idea, and although he hated the idea of the flights of stairs that awaited him, he excused himself from the table and began the lonely climb up the tower.
