The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

new and better ways of doing things. He couldn’t face that.
    Finally he decided to request a transfer to another guild. It was a daunting prospect, but better than what awaited him at the fulling mill, he was sure. But he had no idea which new craft to pick, since he’d been so certain about his first choice, and it had proven so disastrously wrong.
    Today the decision had been taken out of his hands. No, he’d thrown it away. Now his path, for the next year at least, was set. It seemed like an exciting, attractive path, but at the end of it he’d be right back where he started, stuck in a craft he couldn’t love.
    He came to the fountain, a graceful stone statue in the center of the intersection. Water poured from elegant pitchers on the two sides facing Potter’s Way, and from cleverly carved awls and laths on the sides that faced Cobbler’s Street. Above them a stream rose into the air and splashed back down, gurgling into the cupped hands that symbolized the Mother’s blessing on all who continued her work of creation.
    Josiah stuck his buckets under the streams of water. He studied the carvings. Maybe he should choose the Stonemasons’ Guild. Even apprentices were allowed to decorate their work as they chose.
    He sighed. The problem was, he wasn’t an artist. He had little sense of how to create the balance and proportion that lifted a work into the realm of the beautiful. No matter how much his mother and father tried to teach him to shape the clay, his bowls remained merely competent. Set next to Benta’s gracefully curving vases or Namir’s cleverly modeled twining vines and clusters of fruit, his attempts looked awkward and dull. The same thing happened whenever he tried his hand at any craft that required a sense of aesthetics.
    What he’d really like, he mused as he lugged the heavy buckets home, would be the opportunity to spend a year or so on every craft in turn, studying the basics of how each process worked, and then moving on to the next. But that was impossible. He’d never gain the status that came with expertise, never become a master and a full citizen of Tevenar.
    Josiah shrugged to himself as he shouldered open the shop door. He had a year of reprieve. He’d have all the new and intriguing sights he could ever wish for. Perhaps by the time they returned he’d be able to see his path more clearly.
    The living quarters bustled and hummed with activity. Everyone had come inside but the donkey, who Josiah suspected would enjoy the quiet of the deserted yard.
    He poured the two full buckets into the cistern, managing not to spill too much. He went to the washbasin to wash his hands, and finding the pitcher empty, returned to the cistern to fill it. Before he was done Mother called everyone to the table.
    Elkan was seated at his mother’s right hand. Mother and Father were in their usual places at the head and foot of the table. Tirza sat in her child’s chair at Mother’s left, and the other children ranged down the sides. Josiah sat next to Elkan. He hoped his noisy, boisterous, chaotic family wasn’t making too bad an impression on his new master.
    Elkan appeared to be enjoying himself. He praised the food, especially the salad of new spring greens and berries. By the end of winter everyone had grown tired of the dried and salted food that remained from autumn’s bounty. The first fresh fruits of spring, which were just now becoming available, were a treat.
    Josiah slathered his warm brown bread with butter and honey. He turned to Elkan. “Will we be leaving tomorrow?”
    Elkan shook his head. “I’ve been helping at the Mother’s Hall, mostly doing little tasks the wizards here have been too busy to attend to, like checking on the cloth.” Josiah squirmed, although Elkan didn’t look at him and there was no reproach in his voice. “Sixthday is always the busiest, so I plan to stay and work with them tomorrow, celebrate Restday, and then set out for the mountains on