It was an excellent start of the day for Uv'lin Patheronian. The sun owned the sky, the warmth was gentle, and he had come early to the market before the best spots were taken. He set his pottery out in groups, medium decanters on the left of the table, small covered jars - the ones women held spices and face colors in - directly in the center, and large vases on the right. Each one turned to show their best side to the customer.

Lerin, his talented copper, brought another armful forward. Uv'lin took them one at a time, sorting and placing them in the best positions.

"You have done well this week," Uv'lin said. "Your eye for color is much improved, and your hand has steadied well with the patterns."

"I thank you, Master," Lerin said. Her smile told him the compliment was well received. Uv'lin knew it was essential to urge a growing talent, especially when a house was too small to afford abundant property. He needed many good days to feed and house those he owned.

"Mayhap, two more of the unlidded jars. Those small ones for odds and ends."

"Aye, Master," Lerin replied and returned to the wagon, her bound hair tail whipping about as she turned.

"I need an oil vase," a man said, holding his hands in such a way to denote a size as tall as the table. "It will need a cover, and I once saw one with a pour spout."

"Aye, aye," Uv'lin said. "I have such a thing, three in truth. I did not bring them here, but I can retrieve one by mid-day. They are difficult to cook, so I must ask fifteen coppers."

"Ten."

Uv'lin smiled his most pleasant smile. He had learned it long ago. It denoted respect and friendship, a tool of haggling. "Ten will not cover the time to create it. I can lower to fourteen for once such as you."

"Thirteen, and that price will raise the ire in my wife. Any more, and I will eat swill for a week"

"Aye, thirteen," Uv'lin said with a chuckle. He held out his hand, and they joined wrists. "It will be here before the sun turns downward." It was going to be a very good day. Selling large without effort was an excellent start.

The man walked farther down the tables as Liren returned with the jars Uv'lin requested. He placed them behind the other small pottery, lifting the last back to examine it closer. "You have made one like this before."

"I enjoy the pattern, Master," Liren said. "Is it not to your liking?"

"Nay. I mean Aye, it is a pleasing design," Uv'lin said. The first sold quick enough. Mayhap, this one will as well. "Mayhap, we will need more of them." He placed it more prominently on the table to see if it catches the eyes. "You will need to return to the house soon. I have sold one of those large vases, the ones with the spouts. It must be here by midday."

"Aye," Liren said. "A good start, is it not Master?"

"Aye, a good start."

A commotion began at the beginning of the market, near where the clothier sold bolts of fabric. All heads started to turn towards the front as a murmuring grew. Uv'lin stepped around the table to see what or who created the fuss.

A woman, far more finely dressed then Uv'lin had ever seen in a long while, was strolling down the market with hands clasped behind her back. Four uniformed guards surrounded her, and two coppers with eyes to the ground followed behind. Another guard followed behind them. Uv'lin returned to his position at the table and, quick as he could, scooted the most expensive pieces to the front.

"Those slender vases," Uv'lin said to Liren, "the ones meant for scents. Did we not bring some?"

"Aye, Master."

"Off you go with haste and gather them here," Uv'lin ordered. Liren ran off, and Uv'lin settled his excitement. It was rare to have one in this village who had coin to spare. It looked like this woman had piles to throw about. The day kept improving.

"Those smell divine," the woman said as she leaned close to the hanging smoked meats, two tables down.

"Long smoked, my lady," the vendor said.

A guard snapped forward, hand on his pommel. "Princess Alliette Victalica Tarvakian requires her title."

The vendor's face went pale as he bent at the waist. "Forgive me, your highness. I did not realize...I have not..."

"You did not know because I did not tell you," The royal said, then looked at her guard. "Filgot, he was merely uninformed and did not intend to insult."

"As you say, your highness," The guard said and backed away, though Uv'lin noticed his hand did not leave his sword.

"Long smoked, you say?"

"Aye, your highness. The best in these parts, if I may be so bold. Soaked in a seasoning that pleases the tongue, then treated to the burning scent of fragrant wood." The vendor smiled, proud that a royal had taken interest. "It is a secret blend, both seasonings, and wood."

"I desire it," the princess said.

"I would gladly gift you a strip, your highness," the vendor said. There was excitement in his eyes. Uv'lin felt jealous for a moment, watching the princess hover over another merchant's products. The mere mention of such interest would drive numerous deals for two or three seasons.

"You miss my meaning," the princess said. "I have a long trip ahead, and I seek sustenance that does not bore me. I desire all that you have on display." She again looked at her guard. "Haggle with the man, but not too hard. Then have these slugs," she indicated the two coppers that followed her, "get it loaded. Make sure they don't steal a sample."

"Aye, your highness," Filgot replied. The princess moved to the next table, ignoring the haggling that commenced. It was only a formality, for the guard settled on a price that Uv'lin knew to be high. The meat vendor was all smiles and bows—more jealousy.

The coppers hauled away the meat with eyes never leaving the ground. Uv'lin could swear they shivered when the guards neared. What they say of Tarvakian property must be truer than the words.

"What lovely jars," the Princess commented. She freed her hands from behind her skirts and lifted one of the small lidded jars to examine closely.

"I thank you, your highness," Uv'lin said with a deep bow. At least he would not be caught in disrespect.

"Oh, and look at the design on this one." The princess lifted the one whose pattern pleased Liren. A sure sign that it demanded duplication. "Do you make these?"

"My house does, your highness," Uv'lin replied. "House Patheronian."

"Not by your hands, then?"

"Nay. One of my property, your Highness," Uv'lin said as he noticed Liren returning with two of the slender vases in her hands. "In truth, she approaches now."

"I have seen one like this before, a week past, if I am not mistaken," the princess said as she turned it around. Uv'lin took the vases from Liren and whispered the status of the woman before them.

Lerin lowered to her knee and dropped her eyes to the ground. "Good day to you, High Mistress."

"It was a friend of mine who held one just like this," the Princess continued, ignoring Liren as if she did not exist. "It had stuck in my mind, and I asked him if I could procure it from him." She shook her head. "Alas, he had traded it for information."

Liren's eyes rose. Uv'lin signaled her to lower them again. He didn't want that guard behind his table.

"Only two of those have been made, your highness," Uv'lin said. "The other was sold to a man dressed less well than yourself. It would be odd that your paths crossed."

"A tall man?" the princess asked.

Uv'lin nodded. "And cloaked with hood, your highness. Smelled of the road, not of finery."

The princess smiled. "The one I know is an odd one. I believe we speak of the same person. Sometimes, he finds himself traveling on my father's business." Her voice lowered. "Best if we pretend we aren't talking of the same man or talking of him at all."

"As you wish, your highness." Uv'lin felt a sense of importance grow in him. The princess had taken an interest in his pottery and even shared a bit of royal intrigue. He stepped in front of Liren, who seemed to insist on raising her eyes. A Tarvakian didn't tolerate disrespect from property, and he would prefer her not lashed. The one lesson was all Lerin needed, and he would have happily avoided that if it weren't necessary.

"I am in a mood," the princess said. "A fine day and a fine jar." She looked at the piece closely, her eyes lighting up. "My mother is seeking large vases, waist-high and as wide as half your table. She desires to brighten the rooms in the palace with flowers each spring. I must speak to her of your house's talents." She pursed her lips. "Of course, there would be many of them, the palace being so large. And a long way from here."

"It would be my pleasure to serve the Queen, your Highness," Uv'lin said. A warm glow began to permeate his body. A beautiful day to be alive. "I have done large works before, and have had success. Mayhap, you can take that piece to her Majesty as my gift. Proof of the talents of my house."

"I will show this to my mother, though I shall keep it myself. I thank you," the Princess said, and added a chuckle. Uv'lin thought it a friendly thing. "I would like to have other of your wares as well." She turned to her guard. "Filgot, these small pieces would make elegant gifts for the ladies who share my days. You fetch me a fair price with that tongue of yours."

"All of them, your Highness?" Filgot said.

"Aye, and the property who made this. I should like it as well."

"Your Highness?" Uv'lin asked.

"I wish to try my talents at pottery. Well, the design of it. It will take some skilled hands to mold the idea's in my mind." The princess was examining the jar as if it were giving her ideas.

"Liren...I mean, my property is not for sale, your Highness," Uv'lin said. He tried to add a smile as he would with any other friend.

"Of course it is," the Princess said, and walked away as if she held a valuable gem in her hand.

"I am sorry, sir," Uv'lin said to Filgot as the Princess drifted off. "Liren is not for sale."

"That is regrettable, sir," Filgot said. He leaned in close. "That last houses that disappointed a Tarvakian didn't fair well. Mayhap, you know their names - Barrenkee and Mortique?"

Uv'lin shivered, then looked down at the still kneeling Lerin. She was loyal and had a growing talent, one that would be superior to the others. It is hard to find property with her temperament and patience to create pottery that did not shatter in the oven. And he liked her. Not all property was likable in such a way.

"Her Highness's purse is large, sir," Filgot continued. "And her word is golden. She will speak to her mother on your behalf. It is best you grow your house, not destroy it."

"Destroy it?" Uv'lin said, confusion as to what to do hurt his head. "I...I..."

"You have been a good master," Lerin said in a quiet voice. "I will hold no ill against you if you do what you must."

"It is house Tarvakian," Uv'lin countered. The look on the guard's face made it seem like Uv'lin had uttered a curse.

"Do you desire more words with her Highness? Or perhaps your thoughts about a great house should reach its owner."

"I mean no disrespect," Uv'lin pleaded.

"Then set your price, sir, and I will remember your words more fondly than they were spoken," Filgot said.

Lerin rode in the back of the wagon, her eyes downcast as were the other coppers seated next to her. All were sullen and still as the guards rode in front and behind. The princess was atop a horse, a large white animal that held its head high as if it knew who graced its back.

It was a confusing transfer, done as if Lerin were nothing but a log of wood, or perhaps a cow. Papers hastily drawn and completed without a chance for her to say goodbye to those at house Patheronian. She should have been terrified, yet the words of the Princess to her old master incited curiosity. Truths were swimming in lies; things said only the red-headed one could know.

And that guard, Filgot. So stern, yet when he took her by the arm, his fingers never squeezed. His instructions were simple, 'keep your eyes down.' They were whispered as if others weren't meant to hear as he led her along, lightly steered her more like. He never pushed or pulled with vigor, though his stature and power were undeniable to all those eyes in the market, as was her compliance.

The wagon rolled out of the village, bouncing on the rutted road. Lerin worried about the pottery the princess had bought. It was packaged hastily, the straw thinly layered between pieces. They were part of her, embedded with sweat and creativity. Her children, since the All-Father had seen fit to disallow her another path to motherhood. She would prefer another lesson to the careless waste of her creations. They were meant to live beyond her and enjoyed by many. It mattered not that the owners would never know her name.

The entourage was well past the farmlands as the end of the sun's travels became apparent. The wagon was led deep into the trees. It was an odd place to stop, secluded, and well off the road. Filgot sent sentries out. Lerin was no soldier but felt it would have been easier to guard property in a field, where sight was not hindered.

"We are alone, your highness," Filgot announced.

"Thank the All-Father," one of the other coppers said and jumped off the wagon. Lerin sat in shock as the others started talking and doing chores without orders, their eyes traveling where they willed with smiles in abundance.

"Lerin, is your name?" The Princess had ridden up to the wagon behind Lerin, surprising her. In confusion, she resorted to what she knew and kneeled in the wagon.

"Aye, high Mistress."

"Off your knee," the Princess said. Lerin looked up into a smile. "It is best you stay with us until we enter house Tarvakian proper, but know that you are free."

"I do not understand, high Mistress," Lerin said, rising from her knee as ordered. The horses moved a bit, and she had to grasp the side of the wagon to remain standing.

"I am high Mistress in front of unknowing others, Lerin. To a free woman, I am titled Highness. Behind the walls of house Tarvakian, I am Alliette or my lady to those who don't know me well." She smiled again. "Kelton questioned you many days ago, and it is my calling to see that his words go no farther. I was sent to retrieve you."

"Sent?" Lerin didn't imagine a princess could be sent anywhere.

"Aye," Alliette chuckled. "Chaos must be managed."

"Mayhap, it is best if I explain it, my Lady," one of the other coppers said.

"Aye, Borlin. I leave it to you." Alliette dismounted and led her horse to a makeshift stable, where the other guards had hobbled theirs.

"House Tarvakian is a free house," Borlin began. He signaled for Lerin to sit again. "In a world where great houses are built of property, it is best if all others believe the house is not free." He climbed back onto the wagon as others wearing the copper began to unhitch the horses without orders or direction. Lerin struggled not to look feeble-minded as the world shifted around her. "The house thought it best that Kelton's travels are unknown to all, and with this in mind, you have been given a gift that should have been yours since birth."

"He's postulating again," another of the coppers said in passing. There was humor in the words as if they had all heard it before.

Borlin shrugged at the comment. He reached up and pulled the copper ring from around his neck. "No one was born with a ring. It was put upon your neck whether you desired it or not."

"I am free?" Lerin asked. She cared not for the politics of it. Change in her life was meaningful, not the rest of the world. In all her time, she could barely influence things within arm's reach.

"Aye," Borlin said with a sigh. "You are free, yet not so. To run off this day would leave you, and us, exposed to queries. Not to mention limiting your means of survival. Travel with us, and you can seek profits with house Tarvakian. A good life for ones such as us."

"Profits?" Free, and she could seek coin.

"There is much that can be taught. Do you fancy yourself a seamstress, mayhap, cooking or such?"

"I work clay and make pottery," Lerin said, still not believing what she heard.

"Pottery?"

"Aye."

"There is none of that at the house," Borlin said.

"She has talent," the Princess said, again sneaking up from behind, this time on foot. Lerin turned, still uncomfortable with a royal talking to her, or about her. "Mayhap, the house could build what you need. Could you train others who have the desire?"

"Aye, your Highness," Lerin said, the honorific sounding strange and forced. "As I was trained." The idea that property could act upon their desires was like heaven, yet before death.

"My words were only half a ruse, Lerin," Alliette said. "I do have ideas of containers I have never seen made. Mayhap, others would desire them as well. Profits are made of such things."

"There you have it," Borlin said. "When one of the great ladies of the house says something will happen, it will."

"What thing will happen?" Lerin asked.

"House Tarvakian will make pottery," Borlin said. "But that is not the scary part."

"Scary part?" Lerin asked. Everything was moving too fast. There were moments when she thought she was amid the addle minded.

Alliette laughed. "You'll be the overseer of it." Lerin stared slack-jawed. "Come. We will share a tent this night, away from these men. I tire of their tales of bravado." Lerin took the princess's hand and dismounted the wagon. It was the offered hand that convinced her that she was truly free.

Though she was a princess, Lerin found Alliette to be a kind as well. It was deep into the night when eyes were heaviest when Lerin felt bold enough to ask the questions she most needed asking. Her eyes closed to the answer of her bed being hers, and she could fill it as she saw fit. Pottery created of her own will, and maybe so much more. Kelton was more than his story; he was touched by the All-Father himself.

Heldi Summerfield moved among the maturing plants, examining the slender leaves and searching for the blight that invaded the patty in the south. She was pleased to see only healthy plants and a bevy of those tiny green bugs that flitted from one leaf to the next for no apparent reason. They didn't eat or damage the rice, so they were welcome to call it home.

A whinny attracted Heldi's attention. She rose from the paddy, stepping high on the water dam that bordered the field. A wagon approached flanked by guards. A strange sight not seen since Tarvakian entered the jungle. She sucked in a breath when she recognized the colors on the guards. Heldi walked with a purpose back to the house.

"Tarvakian has returned," Heldi said to Grag. She pointed to the approaching wagon. "It is best if we hide our knowledge of Kelton. Mayhap, he did as I asked and traveled far from that infested house."

"It is a woman who rides in the front," Grag said. His eyes were always better then Heldi's, able to spot detail well before she knew the image had any.

"Collared?"

"Nay. Fancy dressed and riding a proud beast." Grag squinted. "Not the right clothes for traveling, I would guess."