almost cost Mom Le-Ath Veronis. What could they have done?" Nissa was still turning her father's words over in her mind as she sat with her brothers in the pool area. The palace had a very nice indoor pool—heated, of course, and there were sunlamps spaced evenly around the perimeter if you wanted to use them. They weren't employed often, except by the comesuli, who didn't make it to the light half of the planet once a week as they should.
"Don't know, but we did find out that Grey House was invited into the Alliance after Trell got blown to bits," Ry responded. "And we researched the records—Grey House pays as much in taxes as Trell did. Just think—a single family paying what an entire planet did before. Grey House must be doing very well."
"Daddy says Grey House always does well. People are willing to pay high fees for the work," Nissa said. "And I get stuck removing rust from old daggers."
"Well, there has to be a market for that—loads of royal houses have those old swords and knives hanging on their walls. All that junk, sitting around collecting dust and rust," Tory was grinning. Nissa realized he was teasing her.
* * *
Toff had to wash his hands twice and he still had dirt under his nails. Mother Fern hadn't been happy with what he'd brought back to her, scolding Toff about the roots and detritus still in the clay. She grumbled that the Halves working with her had been able to get rid of most of that using their power. If Fern intended to make Toff feel small and useless, then she'd hit the mark.
"Father, I can't get this dirt out," Toff washed his hands a third time.
"Clay isn't easy to deal with, son," Corent eyed Toff's hands. "Here." Corent gathered the tiniest bit of light around him and removed the dirt and clay with power. "There. All clean." Toff sighed at the small amount of effort Corent had expended. Even a tiny amount of power would have been welcome, but he was destined to have none. Toff followed his foster-father to the kitchen, where Redbird had dinner waiting.
* * *
"The baby eunuch is going off to play in the dirt," Gren hissed at Toff as Toff left the small school building after lessons were over the following day. Gren was headed to his other lessons; Toff was going to dig for more clay. The day was fine and crisp, but Gren ruined it. Toff was thankful that Mother Fern's pottery shed was on the opposite side of the village—he had no desire to walk near Gren and listen to more insults.
Mother Fern lived very close to the northwestern border of the village—she'd chosen that location so the smoke from her kilns wouldn't bother the other inhabitants when she worked. Currently, she had four apprentices with power and one without. Toff was the one without. He was beginning to have doubts that Mother Fern would ever let him do anything other than gather clay, work out as much of the roots, rocks and other bits as he could and then dry and sift what was left. After Toff did his work, there would be workable, dry clay that could be added to water so the others could form the plates, bowls and other vessels the village needed.
Toff sighed and shook his head. He had no doubt that Gren would continue his verbal assaults. Toff was waiting, too, for Gren to form a new army—one that would be happy to deliver physical abuse at Gren's direction.
"Good afternoon, Mother Fern," Toff spoke the accepted, polite greeting as he joined the potter and her older apprentices. Mother Fern's apprentices looked up at Toff's entrance. Two were Halves; two were Fulls. The youngest of the four was twenty-two and had been working with Mother Fern for eight years. Toff was the newest and most unwilling, if he were honest. He was getting a later start than the others, who were all female. Gren regularly referred to him as a eunuch, so that didn't make him much different from the girls working for Mother Fern. Toff's shoulders slumped at the thought.
"I want you to find more clay. Try to get something cleaner
"Don't know, but we did find out that Grey House was invited into the Alliance after Trell got blown to bits," Ry responded. "And we researched the records—Grey House pays as much in taxes as Trell did. Just think—a single family paying what an entire planet did before. Grey House must be doing very well."
"Daddy says Grey House always does well. People are willing to pay high fees for the work," Nissa said. "And I get stuck removing rust from old daggers."
"Well, there has to be a market for that—loads of royal houses have those old swords and knives hanging on their walls. All that junk, sitting around collecting dust and rust," Tory was grinning. Nissa realized he was teasing her.
* * *
Toff had to wash his hands twice and he still had dirt under his nails. Mother Fern hadn't been happy with what he'd brought back to her, scolding Toff about the roots and detritus still in the clay. She grumbled that the Halves working with her had been able to get rid of most of that using their power. If Fern intended to make Toff feel small and useless, then she'd hit the mark.
"Father, I can't get this dirt out," Toff washed his hands a third time.
"Clay isn't easy to deal with, son," Corent eyed Toff's hands. "Here." Corent gathered the tiniest bit of light around him and removed the dirt and clay with power. "There. All clean." Toff sighed at the small amount of effort Corent had expended. Even a tiny amount of power would have been welcome, but he was destined to have none. Toff followed his foster-father to the kitchen, where Redbird had dinner waiting.
* * *
"The baby eunuch is going off to play in the dirt," Gren hissed at Toff as Toff left the small school building after lessons were over the following day. Gren was headed to his other lessons; Toff was going to dig for more clay. The day was fine and crisp, but Gren ruined it. Toff was thankful that Mother Fern's pottery shed was on the opposite side of the village—he had no desire to walk near Gren and listen to more insults.
Mother Fern lived very close to the northwestern border of the village—she'd chosen that location so the smoke from her kilns wouldn't bother the other inhabitants when she worked. Currently, she had four apprentices with power and one without. Toff was the one without. He was beginning to have doubts that Mother Fern would ever let him do anything other than gather clay, work out as much of the roots, rocks and other bits as he could and then dry and sift what was left. After Toff did his work, there would be workable, dry clay that could be added to water so the others could form the plates, bowls and other vessels the village needed.
Toff sighed and shook his head. He had no doubt that Gren would continue his verbal assaults. Toff was waiting, too, for Gren to form a new army—one that would be happy to deliver physical abuse at Gren's direction.
"Good afternoon, Mother Fern," Toff spoke the accepted, polite greeting as he joined the potter and her older apprentices. Mother Fern's apprentices looked up at Toff's entrance. Two were Halves; two were Fulls. The youngest of the four was twenty-two and had been working with Mother Fern for eight years. Toff was the newest and most unwilling, if he were honest. He was getting a later start than the others, who were all female. Gren regularly referred to him as a eunuch, so that didn't make him much different from the girls working for Mother Fern. Toff's shoulders slumped at the thought.
"I want you to find more clay. Try to get something cleaner
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