Borne of Fire

Chapter 4

As he left his father in the outhouse and resumed his journey to meet his friend, Randyl felt a cauldron of emotions. He had always been close to his father, who for the main part had treated Randyl more and more as an equal as he had gotten older. A hard word here or there over the years but never the sorts of beatings he heard about from other boys his age. He knew what was expected of him as a son and did his best to ensure his chores and responsibilities were carried out properly and to the best of his ability....for the most part anyway. Because of this closeness, he puzzled over the words his father had said but the meaning behind the words his father had left unsaid were more puzzling still. The way his eyes had glistened in the dim light of the outhouse only served to fuel his anxiety.

His spirits were raised quickly as he walked across the village however. A crisp, clear day coupled with the prospect of meeting his best friend for a morning of fishing would alleviate most of his troubles and today was just such a day. Thoughts of his father were soon pushed to the back of his mind.

Nodding a greeting to the neighbours he passed, shouting a "Hello!" to the O'Mally girls as they fed their goats in the yard, he was further relaxed by the awareness that despite the excitement of the previous night, most people seemed to be getting on with their day as normal.

He exited the village by an unorthodox method - climbing the border fence which had been erected more to keep any loose livestock from roaming too far than for any kind of defensive reasoning, and dropping onto the waste land beyond. This meant that he had only a short hike before he met up with Braxter. Going out through the main village gates and walking all the way round the Northern boundary would take up way too much of his valuable time.

The ground on this side of the village was stony and barren. A few ambitious souls had tried to cultivate it over the years but quickly gave up without yield. Even cattle were reluctant to graze here because of the sparsely growing grass and roots. It was solid beneath Randyls feet however, the snow from yesterday already melted in the early morning sun and run off down the gentle slope to feed the Belling Brook which ran around three quarters of their village and from which their village took its name. In fairness it could have, perhaps more accurately, been called Belling River, and by turn Riverdale, due to the sheer mass of water as it flowed around the Eastern side of the village but on this opposite side it was not much wider than a grown man is tall and not much deeper than it was wide. Underground springs were the cause of such variation of volume, fuelling the brook from underground until by the time it passed the village and went on its way it was close to fifteen feet wide and growing wider as it went.

Before long he could see in the distance the copse of trees growing by the waters edge which marked the chosen fishing spot he and his friend had picked out years ago.

Only a handful of trees, and not overly large specimens, they offered invaluable protection from the elements as well as a place to hang their catch, fuel their fire and an ongoing supply of fresh leaves in which to pack any fish for the walk home.

Braxter was sat with his back against a tree, his leggings rolled up past the knees, relaxed and looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "Didn't think you were coming. You decide to have a lie-in did you?" he smiled as Randyl dropped his equipment next to him.

"Just a few things I had to take care of first, we can't all live as carefree as you unfortunately," he returned in a half serious tone.

The boys had known each other for years, had grown up together and were like brothers in all but name. Whereas Randyl came from a loving, stable home however, Braxter's parents had been dead for years. His mother died in child birth and, left alone to look after a baby, his father struggled for a time before a wine induced accident while working the land brought about what some would say was a long, drawn out but ultimately inevitable outcome.