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“Dalton,” she whispered, “that pie moved of its own accord.”
Dalton kept the smile from his face. “You must be mistaken, Tess. A pie can’t move.”
“But I’m sure—”
With that, the crust broke, and a section of it lifted. A turtle poked its head up to peer at the Minister. A claw grasped the edge, and the turtle hauled itself out, to be followed by another. All around the room surprised guests laughed, applauded, and murmured in astonishment as turtles began climbing out of the pies.
The turtles, of course, had not been baked alive in the pies; the pies had been baked with dried beans inside. After the crust was baked, a hole was cut in the bottom to allow the beans to be drained out and the turtles put in. The crusts had been cut partly through so it would break easily and allow the animals to make good their escape.
The turtle pies, as one of the amusements of the feast, were a grand success. Everyone was delighted by the spectacle. Sometimes it was turtles, sometimes it was birds, both specially raised for the purpose of popping out of pies at a feast to delight and astonish guests.
While squires with wooden buckets began making the rounds of the tables to collect the liberated turtles, Lady Chanboor summoned the chamberlain and asked him to cancel the entertainment due to perform before the next course. A hush fell over the room as she rose.
“Good people, if I may have your attention, please.” Hildemara looked to both sides of the room, making sure every eye was upon her. Her pleated dress seemed to glow with cold silver light. “It is the highest calling and duty to help your fellow citizens when they are in need. Tonight, at last, we hope to take a step to help the children of Anderith. It is a bold step, one requiring courage. Fortunately, we have a leader of such courage.
“It is my high honor to introduce to you the greatest man I have ever had the privilege to know, a man of integrity, a man who works tirelessly for the people, a man who never forgets the needs of those who need us most, a man who holds our better future above all else, my husband, the Minister of Culture, Bertrand Chanboor.”
Hildemara pulled a smile across her face and, clapping, turned to her husband. The room erupted with applause and a great groan of cheering. Beaming, Bertrand stood and slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. She stared adoringly up into his eyes. He gazed lovingly down into hers. People cheered louder yet, joyful to have such a high-minded couple boldly leading Anderith.
Dalton rose as he applauded with his hands over his head, bringing everyone to their feet. He put on his widest smile so the farthest guest would be able to see it and then, continuing to applaud loudly, turned to watch the Minister and his wife.
Dalton had worked for a number of men. Some he could not trust to announce a round of drinks. Some were good at following the plan as Dalton outlined it, but didn’t grasp it fully until they saw it unfold. None were in Bertrand Chanboor’s league.
The Minister had immediately grasped the concept and goal as Dalton had quickly explained it to him. He would be able to embellish it and make it his own; Dalton had never seen anyone as smooth as Bertrand Chanboor.
Smiling, holding a hand in the air, Bertrand both acknowledged the cheering crowd and finally silenced them.
“My good people of Anderith,” he began in a deep, sincere-sounding voice that boomed into the farthest reaches of the room, “tonight I ask you to consider the future. The time is overdue for us to have the courage to leave our past favoritism where it belongs—in the past. We must, instead, think of our future and the future of our children and grandchildren.”
He had to pause and nod and smile while the room again roared with applause. Once more, he began, bringing the audience to silence.
“Our future is doomed if we allow naysayers to rule our imagination, instead of allowing the spirit of potential, given us by the Creator, room to soar.”
He again waited until the wild clapping died down. Dalton marveled at the sauce Bertrand could whip up on the spot to pour over the meat.
“We in this room have had thrust upon us the responsibility for all the people of Anderith, not just the fortunate. It is time our culture included all the people of Anderith, not just the fortunate. It is time our laws served all the people of Anderith, not just the few.”
Dalton shot to his feet to applaud and whistle. Immediately following his lead, everyone else stood as they clapped and cheered. Hildemara, still beaming with the loving grin of wifely devotion and fawning, stood to clap for her husband.
“When I was young,” Bertrand went on in a soft voice after the crowd quieted, “I knew the pang of hunger. It was a difficult time in Anderith. My father was without work. I watched my sister cry herself to sleep as hunger gnawed in her belly.
“I watched my father weep in silence, because he felt the shame of having no work, because he had no skills.” He paused to clear his throat. “He was a proud man, but that nearly broke his spirit.”
Dalton idly wondered if Bertrand even had a sister.
“Today, we have proud men, men willing to work, and at the same time plenty of work that needs to be done. We have several government buildings under construction and more planned. We have roads being built in order to allow for the expansion of trade. We have bridges yet to be built up in the passes over the mountains. Rivers await workers to come build piers to support bridges to those roads and passes.
“But none of those proud men who are willing to work and who need the work can be employed at any of these jobs or the many other jobs available, because they are unskilled. As was my father.”
Bertrand Chanboor looked out at people waiting in rapt attention to hear his solution.
“We can provide these proud men with work. As the Minister of Culture, it is my duty to our people to see to it that these men have work so they can provide for their children, who are our future. I asked our brightest minds to come up with a solution, and they have not let me, nor the people of Anderith, down. I wish I could take credit for this brilliant new statute, but I cannot.
“These scholarly new proposals were brought to me by people who make me proud to be in office so that I might help them guide this new law into the light of day. There were those in the past who would use their influence to see such fair ideas die in the dark recesses of hidden rooms. I won’t allow such selfish interests to kill the hope for our children’s future.”
Bertrand let a dark scowl descend upon his face, and his scowls could make people pale and tingle with dread.
“There were those in the past who held the best for their own kind, and would allow no others the chance to prove themselves.”
There was no mistaking the allusion. Time meant nothing in healing the wounds inflicted by the Haken overlords—those wounds would always be open and raw; it served to keep them so.
Bertrand’s face relaxed into his familiar easy smile, by contrast all the more pleasant after the scowl. “This new hope is the Winthrop Fair Employment Law.”
He held out a hand toward Claudine. “Lady Winthrop, would you please stand?”
Blushing, she looked about as people smiled her way. Applause started in, urging her to stand. She looked like a deer caught inside the garden fence at dawn. Hesitantly, she rose to her feet.
“Good people, it is Lady Winthrop’s husband, Edwin, who is the sponsor of the new law, and, as many of you know, Lady Winthrop is his able assistant in his job as burgess. I have no doubt that Lady Winthrop played a critical role in her husband’s new law. Edwin is away on business, but I would like to applaud her fine work in this, and hope she relays our appreciation to Edwin when he returns.”
Along with Bertrand, the room applauded and cheered her and her absent husband. Claudine, her face red, smiled cautiously to the adoration. Dalton noticed that the Directors, not knowing what the law was about, were polite but reserved in their congratulations. With people leaning toward her, touching her to get her attention, and offering words of appreciation, it was a time before everyone returned to their seats to hear the nature of the law.
“The Winthrop Fair Employment Law is what its name implies,” Bertrand finally explained, “fair and open, rather than privileged and closed, employment. With all the construction of indispensable public projects, we have much work to do in order to serve the needs of the people.”
The Minister swept a look of resolve across the crowd.
“But one brotherhood holds itself to outmoded prerogative, thus delaying progress. Don’t get me wrong, these men are of high ideals and are hard workers, but the time has come to throw open the doors of this archaic order designed to protect the special few.
“Henceforth, under the new law, employment shall go to anyone willing to put their back to the work, not just to the closed brotherhood of the Masons Guild!”
The crowd took a collective gasp. Bertrand gave them no pause.
“Worse, because of this shrouded guild, where only a few meet their obscure and needlessly strict requirements, the cost to the people of Anderith for public projects they construct is far and away above what would be the cost were willing workers allowed to work.” The Minister shook his fist. “We all pay the outrageous cost!”
