“The strong make laws for the weak,” the old man said to him in a low voice. “If the strong is honest, for the weak it is well. Things are hard for the weak here; and therefore say somewhat, for it may be of use.”
“It can be none, unless the strong is at hand to see that the law is kept.”
“Sometimes the market will see that a rule is not broken, for itself. There is no rule for this matter.”
Again Havelok passed his hand over his eyes, and he was long in answering. The loaf lay at his side now. Presently he looked straight before him, and, as if he saw far beyond Lincoln Hill and away to the north, he said, “This is my will, therefore, that from this time forward it shall be the law that men shall have one among them who may fairly and without favour so order this matter that all shall come to Berthun the steward in turns that shall be kept, and so also with the carrying for any other man. There shall be a company of porters, therefore, which a man must join before he shall do this work, save that every stranger who comes shall be suffered to take a burden once, and then shall be told of this company, and the custom that is to be. And I will that this old man shall see to this matter.”
And then he stopped suddenly, and seemed to start as a great shout went up from the men, a shout as of praise; and his eyes looked again on them, and that wonderingly.
“They will keep this law,” said the old man. “Well have you spoken.”
“I have said a lot of foolishness, maybe,” answered Havelok. “For the life of me I could not say it again.”
“There is not one of us that could not do so,” said his adviser. “But bide you here, master, in the town?”
“I am in service at the palace.”
Then the old man turned round to the others and said, “This is good that we have heard, and it is nothing fresh, for all trades have their companies, and why should not we? Is this stranger’s word to be kept?”