"So?" Hakiem asked, feigning surprise. "It was some other one-armed fishermanwho this very day told a garrison captain about the disappearance of the Old Manand his son?"

Omat favored him with a black glare. "I should know better than to expectsecrecy in this town," he hissed. "Bad news draws curiosity-seekers like thePrince's gallows draw ravens. As they say, you can get anything in Sanctuary buthelp."

"Surely the authorities will investigate?" the storyteller asked, though healready knew the answer.

"Investigate!" the fisherman spat noisily on the floor. "You know what they toldme-these precious authorities of yours? They say the Old Man must have drowned,he and his son both. They say the Old Man must've fallen overboard in a suddensquall. Do you believe that? The Old Man-fallen overboard? And him as much apart of his boat as the oarlocks. And Hort, who could swim like the fishesthemselves before he could take a step. Drown? Both of them? With their boatstill afloat?"

"Their boat was still afloat?" Hakiem pressed eagerly.

Omat eyed him for a moment, then leaned forward to share the tale at last. "Forweeks 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 knewit, and so did the Old Man-but it was a handy excuse for the Old Man to show offa bit for his son. And, to Hort's credit, he played along-as patient with theOld Man as the Old Man had been with him. It warmed us all to see those twosmile on each other again." The fisherman's own smile was brief as the memoriescrowded in on him, then he continued: "Yesterday they went out-far out-beyondthe sight of land or the other boats. I thought at the time that it wasdangerous and said as much to Haron. She only laughed and told me not to