Oslo's friend 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, his friend Issac Turner was employed directly by the Sallows, making everything from plates to bowls, cups and mugs, vases and pitchers, and practically anything else functional.
Bellavarn had actually taken pottery classes in high school. He took art electives quite seriously while he was there. Working on the potter's wheel to spin and throw clay was an incredibly therapeutic part of his day. Now that he thought about it, the potter's wheel would be remarkably similar to his design.
As they pulled up, he could see several brick kilns peeking over a short wall, several mugs and jugs being fired inside.
Before being fired, clay that is worked and shaped into an object is called greenware. Once it is done being worked, it is placed into a furnace, or kiln, and it's heated into what we call bisqueware. This process of "firing" the clay made it practically unbreakable. You could bury bisqueware in the ground, leave it there for ten thousand years, and archeaologists would find it practically unchanged.
This unaging and nearly indestructible property becomes dappened if it's fired for a second time. Why would someone do this, you ask? To add color and flair. By using special paints called glazes, artists can add color and transform a chalky beige bowl into a work of art. These glazes also serve as an effective waterproofing.
A glaze was never the same color twice. Depending on the glaze's consistency, how watered down it is, or if two different glazes are accidentally mixed, the result will likely differ from what you had in mind. This may sound like a nightmare for artists, and it is for some, but this brings a lot of variety and spice to a piece.
It was a struggle. Bellavarn remembered hating dealing with glazes, but eventually thought 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. Come, I'll introduce you."
The workshop doors opened inward, and Bellavarn could immediately smell the clay. Everything was thinly layered in it, which was quite normal since clay is three parts dust. Making your own clay can be dangerous because the particles can get into your lungs. People who worked with ceramics in their garage or areas without proper ventilation could end up in the hospital with damaged lungs.
"Hello? Turner, are you in here?"
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.
"Over here."
A masculine voice came from around the corner. After a few steps inside, Bellavarn saw a middle-aged man bending over a spinning wheel. It was powered by a foot pedal, and he currently had an entire arm stuck down a tall vase, shaping it from inside and out.
Bellavarn waited patiently for him to finish. It was always a wonder to watch masters work. Unfortunately, Turner's display of skill was over soon.
Turner stopped pedaling and looked up from his work. His eyes creased when he saw Oslo.
"Oslo! What a rare visit. Seeing as you brought the young master, I assume you didn't come to share a drink?"
Turner wiped his hands off in a muddy bucket of water. Wet clay slopped off and pooled at the bottom.
"Next time, I'm afraid. We're here on business this time. The young master has a new invention and is looking for a talented crafter. I told him I knew just the old coot."
Chuckling, Turner dried off his hands and grasped arms with Oslo before reaching out a hand to Bellavarn himself.
"Is that so? It isn't every day I get to work on something special. Lets hear what you have in mind. It isn't something bizarre, is it?"
Bellavarn smirked in amusement.
"Not at all. With the skill you displayed, I imagine you could make several in only an hour. It will take some slight sculpting, but it shouldn't be too far from your norm."
"You honor me, young master Sallow. It sounds like it'd actually bring some life back into these bones. Before we discuss more… I need to tell you something, my friend."
Turner further dried his hands on his apron. His brows furrowed as he looked to Oslo.
"I've been meaning to see you. You see, I was approached by Astor a few days ago."
Oslo's face twitched before he could control his reaction.
"What did they offer you?"
"They offered to buy the workshop at ten times my asking price. Along with a newer, larger workspace, and half a dozen apprentices."
"That's no small offer."
"I told them to scram. But then… They said they'd sponsor Kelly."
Turner sighed.
"I'm sorry, old friend."
"I see. So you've already accepted."
"I was going to visit and tell you in person, but, I guess you beat me to it. I'm sorry, to both of you. It wasn't a decision I made lightly."
Oslo and Turner have been close friends for decades. They met even before Oslo was working for the Sallows. Now, all of a sudden, his friend was leaving.
While Oslo reconciled and caught up with Turner, Bellavarn shared a whispered conversation with Kerv.
"Has someone been following us? Are there any listening devices nearby?"
Kerv creased his brows.
"I don't detect anything, and no one followed us. They'd have to be skilled to fool me."
"Check outside to be sure."
Kerv nodded and left through the side door. Bellavarn didn't think Kerv would find anything. Whoever it was, did they somehow know where Bellavarn would be going? Was this part of some other ploy to encroach on Sallow territory?
Was it House Astor who spread the rumors? If so, how did they find out in the first place? And how did Astor know to monopolize all the crafters in the capital? Perhaps as a merchant household, it was simply second-nature, but the timing of it all was too suspicious.
With increasing questions, Bellavarn tuned back in to the conversation.
"You know I have trouble filling enough orders to keep myself afloat. It's just me here after my last apprentice was poached. Astor's offer is too much to pass up."
"Why haven't you come to me sooner? I could have done something if you told me."
Turner exhaled and rubbed the back of his head.
"It isn't just that."
"What else is there?"
"While they were here, they mentioned that horrid rumor going around. I don't believe such a thing, but Kelly. She was eavesdropping and overheard everything."
Turner rubbed his hand through his hair.
"I told her it was slander and noble gossip, but she wouldn't have it. You know how she is. She threw a fit and said if I didn't accept his offer thats she never talk to me again, and she'd even enlist in the army to get away from this place.. I held out for a while, wanting to talk to you first, but after everything with her mother, I couldn't hold on. I'm truly sorry, my friend."
Turner appeared to age a decade right in front of them. Oslo knew that being a single father wasn't easy; he couldn't blame his old friend.
However, Bellavarn felt a migraine coming on.
It wasn't just Astor poaching someone. This was deliberate.
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 and secured a life for his daughter.
"I understand your reasons, Turner. I wish things were different."
Turner put his hands in his pockets and resigned himself to the situation.
On Bellavarn's part, this meant he couldn't give Turner any information on his invention if he were defecting to Astor. It's already been revealed that Sallow was working on something; he couldn't give the competition any more clues.
Kerv returned through the front entrance and gave Bellavarn a shake of his head. Bellavarn rolled his neck, eliciting a crack.
"When do you plan on moving?"
"In a week's time.. Astor will be sending hands to help me move my tools. The new workshop isn't far, but it isn't close either."
"What if I asked you to move sooner?"
Everyone looked at Bellavarn, but he could no longer afford niceties when it came to business.
Turner quirked his head.
"How soon are we talking?"
"As early as tomorrow. I'll pay you for any equipment you leave behind as a severance fee. I will even hire someone tomorrow morning to move whatever you need. You will be up and out within a day."
"Well. I suppose. That would save me a lot of trouble. That is very kind of you, master Bellavarn."
"I have two conditions."
Bellavarn held up two fingers.
"The first is that you can't speak to Astor House about your time under the Sallows."
"Hmph. I wasn't going to anyway. I won't sell you out if that is what you are worried about. I owe Oslo more than that."
The words were bittersweet. On one hand, Oslo's 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 a lot of respect towards Oslo and the Sallows for putting up with him for so long.
"The last condition is non-negotiable."
Turner rubbed his stomach, and Oslo seemed suddenly concerned.
"You will never return to Sallow employ."
This startled Oslo. It was equivalent to cutting away Turner's safety net. If Astor suddenly reneged on their deal, Turner would have nowhere to go.
"Bell-"
"Our feelings are irrelevant in this matter."
Bellavarn shrugged off Kerv.
"This is as fair as I can be. Regardless of the past, this is a coordinated attack by the Astors. By spreading malicious rumors and influencing the market, Astor has practically gained a monopoly in the capital. Out of respect for your friendship over the years, I am giving him a chance at a huge severance pay and seeing him off. Do not belittle my kindness."
"Master Bellavarn, Turner has been loyal for decades. If something were to happen, he should be able to return."
"I can't do that, Oslo. 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."
Oslo wanted to fight Bellavarn's words, but he knew them to be true. It was his fault for letting his work get in the way of his friendships over the years. If he had checked in more often, perhaps things would have been different.
Turner spoke, ending Oslo's inner thoughts.
"This is fine. I understand your reasons, and I don't begrudge this kind of deal. Bellavarn is being more than reasonable. I am glad he grew up with a head on his shoulders."
"Turner."
Oslo buckled a bit from the hand slamming on his shoulder. Turner laughed with a smile.
"We can still share that drink. Who knows what secrets I might spill while drunk, eh?"
Oslo glanced at Bellavarn, and he nodded softly. Letting them remain in contact was a chance for leaks of both sides, but Bellavarn couldn't bring himself to deny Oslo his friendship.
"You will be paying with the Astors' money."
Turner just laughed harder.
"Fair enough."
In a sour mood, Bellavarn trudged outside with Kerv while Oslo lingered behind.
"What do you plan on doing now, Bell? Any easy options are now gone."
"I'll do what I said. I'll make them myself. There will be fewer leaks this way."
Bellavarn's expression was set.
"I'm paying for Turner to leave most of his tools behind. The workshop is a short ride from the house. It looks like I'll be spending more time here instead of the library."
"What about my couch?"
"Get used to a stool."
Kerv resigned himself. The cold weather would prevent him from napping, and there would be security concerns with how exposed the workshop was. He'd have to ask Henry to join him to stave off boredom.
The duo was walking back to the carriage when Kerv spotted someone approaching. 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 emblem on the carriage.
Not good.
Kerv tried to hurry Bellavarn and block his view, but it was too late. Bellavarn stopped walking.
There was seething hatred in the girl's eyes as if Bellavarn were her mortal enemy.
"Bell, don't-"
He was about to make an excuse, but stopped when he saw Bellavarn's face. Kerv was expecting Bell to be furious after the day's events, but Bell's face was as if he'd seen a ghost.
His words quiet.
"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 glared at Kelly. She was just another face passing by, but after a day like today, it was she who tipped Bellavarn over the edge. He cursed her and Duke Astor all in one breathe.
He watched Kelly stomp inside and nearly bowl over Oslo as he walked out. Oslo furrowed his brows, his mouth slightly parted.
"Did something happen?"
Kerv glowered.
"Yeah. She just made a bad day worse."