squall. Do you believe that? The Old Man-fallen overboard? And him as much a
part of his boat as the oarlocks. And Hort, who could swim like the fishes
themselves before he could take a step. Drown? Both of them? With their boat
still afloat?”
“Their boat was still afloat?” Hakiem pressed eagerly.
Omat eyed him for a moment, then leaned forward to share the tale at last. “For
weeks now the Old Man has been taking Hort out, teaching him the tricks of deep
-water boating. Oh, I know Hort’ll never be a fisherman. I know it; Hort knew
it, and so did the Old Man-but it was a handy excuse for the Old Man to show off
a bit for his son. And, to Hort’s credit, he played along-as patient with the
Old Man as the Old Man had been with him. It warmed us all to see those two
smile on each other again.” The fisherman’s own smile was brief as the memories
crowded in on him, then he continued: “Yesterday they went out-far out-beyond
the sight of land or the other boats. I thought at the time that it was
dangerous and said as much to Haron. She only laughed and told me not to
worry-the Old Man was more than a match for the sea at this time of year.” The
fisherman took a long pull at his drink.
“But they didn’t return. I thought perhaps they’d come ashore elsewhere and
spent most of the night roaming the other piers asking for them. But no-one had
seen them. This morning I took my boat out. It took ’til noon but I finally
spotted the craft floating free, with its oars shipped. Of the Old Man and Hort
I couldn’t find a trace. I towed the boat in and sought out the City Garrison to