Invention (3)

The potter actually lived closer to the mansion than almost anything else. It was only a ten-minute ride between the two locations versus the half-hour it took to reach the nearest smithy. According to Oslo, the Potter was employed directly by the Sallows making everything from plates to bowls, cups and mugs, vases and pitchers, and practically anything else functional. It was cheaper and easier to produce than most silverware or glassworks.

Bellavarn had actually taken classes in pottery. Working on the wheel was a fun experience. He wondered if the wheel was invented. A potter's wheel, that is. Used to throw clay. Not actually tossing it. It was most likely the wheel inside was manual and not electric. Or maybe there was a magical alternative.

As they pulled up, he could see several brick kilns outside. The snow around them was melted, an indication of recent use. There was likely to be several pieces inside right now. Unless a potter was alone, kilns ran at all hours since it took a long time to fire. They also needed to be fired twice. Once for to turn the still moldable greenware into bisqueware. This process made the clay practically unbreakable. You could bury bisqueware and leave it for ten thousand years without it degrading.

The second time you fired a piece was to make the glaze stick. Glaze is the equivalent of paint in ceramics. It didn't need to be applied, even if it almost always was. Unless someone wanted a chalky bowl, glazes were used to decorate and hide blemishes. It also served to waterproof the object.

There were also different types of kilns, clays, and glazes. A glaze was never the same color twice. This may sound like a nightmare for artists, and it is for some, but this actually brings a lot of variety and spice to a piece. You can get the general color you want. However, depending on the glaze's consistency, how watered down it is, or if two different glazes accidentally mixed, the result will likely differ from what you had in mind.

It was a struggle. Bellavarn remembered hating dealing with glazes but eventually warmed to it. Thinking of it as allowing the artwork to take on a life of its own. There were times when he was too controlling, needing to plan and piece together every detail perfectly. Keeping an open mind was one of the hardest hurdles Bellavarn had to overcome.

It was too bad he ended up quitting.

"Turner should be inside."

It was the potter's name. Bellavarn wanted to make a joke about it but the wording didn't quite line up the way he wanted it to, so he refrained from embarrassing himself by trying.

Bellavarn opened the door and could immediately smell the clay. To be exact. It smelled dusty. Everything was layered in dust. Reason being that clay was a third dust. Making your own clay could actually be dangerous because of the particles getting into your lungs. People who did ceramics in their garage without filtering the air would end up in the hospital with a terrible cough and ruined lungs.

"Hello?"

There was no bell on the door as this was a workshop and not a store. Visitors were unlikely to come by the actual workplace unless they were buying in bulk or were looking for an apprenticeship.

"Can I help you?"

The voice came from around the corner. Bellavarn walked over and saw a middle-aged man sitting bent over at a wheel. It was powered by a foot pedal, and he was currently in the middle of shaping a tall vase.

"Sorry to interrupt. I had a business proposal I wanted to discuss."

Turner stopped pedaling and looked up from his work. His eyes widened when he saw Oslo, recognizing him. As it turned out, Oslo and Turner are old friends.

Turner's eyes moved to Bellavarn and immediately placed him.

"Oh. I see. Well. You caught me at a bad time."

Turner wiped his hands in a bucket.

"The young master has a new invention and he wanted to discuss how many you could create."

"An invention? It isn't something bizarre, is it?"

Bellavarn laughed.

"No. No. It is just a small thing. I imagine you could create a dozen on the wheel in an hour. It will take some slight sculpting, but it shouldn't be too far from what you are used to."

Turner wiped his hands on ruined pants. His brows furrowed as he looked to Oslo.

"I've been meaning to see you, Oslo. You see, I've received another business proposal recently. It will likely take up most of my time and I may even move shop. I was offered a new space and even apprentices to lighten the workload."

That was a generous offer.

"Who offered you the job?"

Turner scratched his back and looked awkward.

"It was actually Duke Astor."

"Astor! He was trying to poach you?"

Turner sighed.

"He didn't just try. I already accepted. I was putting off telling you."

He'd known Turner for over two decades. They met when he was just starting out as a butler for the Sallows. Now all of a sudden he was leaving? Oslo spoke a few more words with Turner while Bellavarn whispered to Kerv.

"Have we been monitored? Was there anybody following us, or is there perhaps a bug on our persons?"

Kerv creased his brows. He made a motion with his hands, casting a basic spell that scanned for magical signatures.

"I don't detect anything, and no one followed us."

"Check outside to be sure. This is too much of a coincidence."

Kerv nodded and left back out the front door.

"You know I have trouble filling enough orders to keep myself afloat. It is just me here after my last apprentice left to start their own business. Astor is offering me a larger workspace and eager apprentices. I can't just pass it up, Oslo."

"Why haven't you come to me? I could have done something if you told me."

Turner breathed in, exhaling.

"It isn't just that..."

"What else is there?"

"Kelly. You know, my daughter. She heard some rumors about master Bellavarn and has been pressuring me to leave. I told her it was slander and noble gossip, but she wouldn't have it. Last week she threw a fit and declared she wouldn't talk to me unless I accepted Astor's offer. I held out for a while. Wanting to talk to you first, but I haven't been able to leave the workshop."

Bellavarn felt a migraine coming on. Even here? Oslo didn't know what to say, and Bellavarn couldn't begrudge Turner. Unlike the rest, Turner had very valid reasons for refusing his offer. Astor offered a huge improvement in quality of life while also gaining the approval of his daughter.

"I don't begrudge you, Turner. I understand your reasons."

Turner put his hands in his pockets. It was as if saying his hands were tied. Bellavarn couldn't give Turner any information on his invention if he were defecting to Astor. He already revealed too much.

Kerv returned and gave Bellavarn a shake of his head. Bellavarn rolled his neck, eliciting a crack.

"When do you plan on moving shop?"

"In a week. Astor will be sending someone to help me move my tools. The new shop isn't far, but it isn't close either."

"What if I asked you to move sooner?"

"Sooner? How soon?"

"By tomorrow. I will pay you for any equipment you leave behind as a severance fee. I will even call someone tomorrow morning to move whatever you need. You will be up and out within a day."

"Well, that will save me a lot of trouble. That is very kind of you, Master Bellavarn."

"I have two conditions, though."

Bellavarn held up two fingers.

"The first is that you can't speak to Astor House about your time under the Sallows."

"Hmph. I won't sell you out if that is what you are worried about. I owe Oslo more than that."

The words were bittersweet. Oslo held mixed feelings. On the one hand, his long time acquaintance was leaving to join a rival House. On the other hand, it wasn't like all the years working together would be obsolete. Turner clearly held respect towards him and the Sallows for putting up with him for so long.

"The last condition is non-negotiable."

Turner rubbed his stomach.

"You will never return to Sallow employ."

Everyone else present was surprised. This was cutting off any fallback for Turner.

"Bell..."

"No. I don't care."

Bellavarn shrugged off Kerv.

"I am being fair. I've been insulted one too many times today. Now someone close to home ups and leaves, moved by a stupid rumor. I've had enough. I am giving him a chance at a huge severance pay and seeing him off. I am being plenty kind."

"Master Bellavarn, Turner is an old friend. If something were to happen, he should be able to return."

"I can't do that, Oslo. Not only does Duke Astor seem to be poaching every major crafter in our territory near the capital, but he has also been spreading and growing that rumor to turn people to his side. If Turner defects to Astor, I can't ever trust him again, even at your word. Willingly or unwillingly, he would just be another spy in our midst."

The words were true, but Oslo was conflicted. Bellavarn was letting past experiences color his vision but was also thinking logically. Turner spoke, ending Oslo's inner thoughts.

"Oslo, it is fine. I understand. Bellavarn is being reasonable. I am glad he grew up with a head on his shoulders."

"Turner..."

Oslo buckled a bit from the large hand slamming on his shoulder. Turner laughed with a smile.

"We can still grab a bite to eat. I just can't work for you anymore."

Oslo glanced at Bellavarn. He looked mad but just gave Oslo a small nod. Letting them remain in contact was also a chance for leaks, but Bellavarn couldn't bring himself to deny Oslo of his friendship.

"You will be paying, with the Astors money."

Turner just laughed harder.

"Fair enough. Fair enough.

=

"What do you plan on doing now, Bell? Your options are gone."

"I'll do what I said. I will make them myself."

Bellavarn's expression was set.

"That is why I am paying for him to leave his tools behind. The workshop is nearby to the house. I will just be spending more time here instead of the library."

"Does that mean I will be joining you?"

"Yup. Get used to it."

Kerv resigned himself. He would ask Henry if he was busy. This place was a lot colder than the mansion library. He wouldn't be able to sit still.

They were walking back to the carriage when Kerv noticed someone approaching this way. They were bundled up in clothes, but it was clearly a woman. Using context clues, he gathered this was Turner's daughter, Kelly. She paused when she saw the carriage. She was close enough for Kerv to see her face.

He tried to hurry along Bellavarn and block his view, but it was too late. Their eyes locked and Kerv could see the seething hatred in the girl's eyes. As if Bellavarn was her mortal enemy.

"Bell, don't-"

He was about to make an excuse but stopped when he saw Bellavarns face. He was expecting Bell to be furious after what he said inside, but Bell's face was as if he'd seen a ghost. Bellavarn's words were meek.

"What did I do? ...For her to look at me that way."

Kerv switched tactics.

"Bell. She doesn't know. She was told a story. She doesn't know you."

"She is glaring at me like I killed her mother in front of her."

"Bell..."

Bellavarn turned away and walked into the carriage, closing the door himself.

Kerv looked back at Turner's nameless daughter. Just another face passing by. But it was her who tipped Bellavarn over the edge. He cursed her and Duke Astor.

He watched her stomp inside and nearly bowl over Oslo as he walked out. Oslo furrowed his brows, his mouth slightly parted. He directed his question at Kerv.

"Did something happen?"

"Yeah. She just pushed Bellavarn off the edge."