Fire and Lightning

Do We Have A Deal?

Ryn's father stood over him, still frowning.

Ryn couldn't meet his gaze.

"You," said Ryn's Dad. "My office. Now." He opened the front door and Ryn trotted inside, keeping his head down. Ryn heard his Dad kiss his Mum hello behind him and her say quietly, "Don't be too harsh on him, Orvis."

"I'll be just as harsh as I need to be, Lystra. No more; no less."

Inside his Dad's study Ryn stood in front of the desk. It was littered with weather-charts and crop diagrams, the big almanac over to one side open on a page listing dawn- and dusk-times for the month. There were no story books to escape into here. The shelves were filled with ledgers containing records of harvests, milk production, trade takings, exchange rates and savings accounts, Ryn knew. His father had tried inducting him into the arcana of all of them, but Ryn didn't see the point of being introduced to any of it until he absolutely needed to be. Why bother? He wasn't interested in any of it.

What he was interested in was Carlotia, cochobo racing with Kris and Alix, and reading, maybe writing, fantasy-adventure books. A pity none of those things was likely to earn him a living. Well, writing books could, but only if he turned out to be extremely good at it, managed to get a story taken on by a press, and then was lucky enough to become a bestseller. But there was as much chance of that as of his father suddenly sprouting wings and telling Ryn he could have the whole Summer off to drink, chase girls and read before flying off into the night in a fit of giggles.

Ryn's father came in and shut the door, then padded round to the other side of the desk where he sat down. He did not signal to allow Ryn this luxury. His expression was stern and his considerable muscles were tensed. He steepled his fingers, then tapped them against his lips for a moment.

"Ryn. Do you remember that you agreed to—"

"I agreed to help you set up for the Summer Fair this evening, I know Dad, I'm s—"

"Don't interrupt me. What did you have to do that was more important?"

Ryn didn't see any point in lying. His Mum knew anyway, and would only tell his Dad later if Ryn didn't tell him now, and if she hadn't already. He said it as quickly as he could to get it all out and over with as fast as possible, like pulling a thorn from his palm.

"I was cochobo-racing in the woods and drinking wine with Kris and Alix."

His father opened his mouth to say something, but Ryn quickly continued, "But the only reason I forgot about set-up is because I asked a girl to go the Summe Fair with me and she said yes!"

"I said don't interrupt me!" shouted Ryn's Dad, standing.

Ryn stiffened and his guts turned to water. He had thought that his Dad would be proud of him at this news and that it would placate him, but evidently not.

"When you make a promise to be somewhere at a certain time, you damn well be there at that time!" His father thudded the desk with a fist on the word 'be'. "It's time you learned some responsibility, boy! Don't you understand that one day you'll take over all of this?" He gestured around his office. "Don't your understand that our family, your mother and I, is a pillar of this community? People look up to us. They depend on us. We've a reputation to uphold. And how can we do that if whenever you're meant to be somewhere you're off gallivanting around the woods with those two layabout Hosserson boys, or drinking, or chasing skirts, or with your head stuck in a storybook somewhere?"

The dig about the book got in. It wasn't as if Ryn had even been reading when he should have been helping set up. His temper lit.

"Well maybe I don't want to take over 'all of this'"—he waved at the office in imitation of his father—"one day!" he shouted. "Did you ever think of that?"