Gaunt had objected to the Charter for two days, and he intended to go on objecting until the Register took the last voice, because that was the only honest way a Smith could vote on anything.
He sat on the Smiths’ bench in the Great Hall with his bad hand flat on the wood beside him and his good one folded over his knee, and he watched the Chamber assemble for the Full Assent. The lamps were lit along the walls. The Register lay open on its brass stand at the Chamber’s head, and beside it, on a fresh sheet of the Hold’s own vellum, Tallow had set out the Charter of Hosting in his clean round hand, with the Mason’s Lending written underneath in the Ink, plainly, as Harrow had demanded. He had found no fault with the Lending, which annoyed him, and so he had found several in the preamble instead.
A Full Assent had to be spoken aloud, by each Hand in turn, so that nobody could say afterward that they had been counted without answering.
“Harrow,” said Tallow.
The Mason did not stand. He sat on the end of the bench with his square hands on his knees and his eyes on the Great Hall’s beams, and he was counting them under his breath, and he did not raise his head for some time.
