grateful.
And towards the river, a house apart from others … which seemed oddly
discontinuous from its surrounds: in squalor, it had a garden, and a wall; and
yet had a quaint decrepitude. Mradhon Vis stood outside the gate – sore and much
out of sorts. She was there: she had found herself a young man much the image of
Sjekso, who presently held the warmth and the light inside.
He had walked that far.
And finally, knowing what he knew, he did the harder thing, and walked away.
A GIFT IN PARTING
by Robert Asprin
The sun was a full two handspans above the horizon when Hort appeared on the
Sanctuary docks; early in the day but late by fishermen’s standard. The youth’s
eyes squinted painfully at the unaccustomed brightness of the morning sun. He
fervently wished he were home in bed … or in someone else’s bed … or
anywhere but here. Still, he had promised his mother he would help the Old . Man
this morning. While his upbringing made it unthinkable to break that promise,
his stubbornness required that he demonstrate his protest by being late.
Though he had roamed these docks since early childhood and knew them to be as
scrupulously clean as possible, Hort still chose his path carefully to avoid
brushing his clothes against anything. Of late he had been much more attentive
to his personal appearance; this morning he had discovered he no longer had any
old clothes suitable for the boat. While he realized the futility of trying to
preserve his current garb through an entire day’s work in the boat, newly