Caller of Lightning by Peter J. Wacks & Eytan Kollin

Author:Peter J. Wacks & Eytan Kollin [Wacks, Peter J. & Kollin, Eytan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Historical, Action & Adventure, Alternative History
ISBN: 9781982124632
Google: r_BcygEACAAJ
Amazon: 1982124636
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2020-06-02T04:00:00+00:00

The

Stevenson Home

Craven Street

London, England

February 28th

24

I Will Not Be Spoken

to in This Way

With William due back any day from his long-planned tour of the countryside, accompanied by King, Ben thought it high time to indulge in some long overdue London shopping. The hunt had been a great success. So much so, in fact, that come late afternoon of his second day of shopping he sent his overstuffed carriage home to Craven Street under Peter’s supervision while he stayed at the glassworks shop to oversee the crafting of some special lenses and other experimental equipment. Having completed this, he had overseen the packing of his purchase, then hired a sedan chair to carry him home. He held the wrapped goods carefully on his lap, eager to return to his rooms so he could begin his new experiments.

As Ben climbed out of the sedan chair, however, Peter hurried out the front door to meet him. Ben was surprised to see that his normally imperturbable servant was deeply agitated.

“Is something the matter?” Ben asked.

“Yes, sir. Master William is here, and very upset. He has commanded me to bring you right to him and not say a word.”

Ben’s mouth opened, then closed, followed by a deep knitting of the brow. Finally, he shrugged and motioned for Peter to lead the way, while carefully holding his lenses under his other arm. He followed Peter into the house, then upstairs and into the main sitting room. There he found his son sitting in his favorite side chair, a plush and comfortable short legged lounger. William’s hands were clenched so strongly his knuckles had gone white, and his face was red. “Leave us, Peter,” he directed, with evident heat. When the slave was gone he rose from the chair, bypassing common civility in a way Ben had never seen before, and launched straight to his point as he jabbed a finger in the air at Ben. “Father, it is all your fault. I can’t believe you let this happen! No, made it happen!”

“I beg your pardon?” Confused, Ben took a moment to think by walking to the window and gently depositing the cloth-wrapped parcel on the end table. “What exactly is my fault, William?”

“It is your lax attitude with the slaves that has caused this to come to pass. You treat them like they are something more, and they get ideas. You cannot deny it!” The young man’s tone was haughty and supercilious; an aspect of his nature that showed itself rarely, and which always troubled Ben when it did. He found it keenly repugnant.

“Watch your tone, boy.” Ben spoke quietly, stoically, as felt his own passion rising to meet his son’s. The observation gave him pause. He felt suddenly certain that this was one of William’s transparent chess moves—he was trying to work Ben up into anger, so he would be unable to respond as rationally as he might later wish.

But why?

“How dare you call me ‘boy’! Like I’m just one of them,” William screamed, gesturing in the direction of Peter’s exit.

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