"Then, who?" the storyteller frowned.
"That's the mystery," Omat scowled. "The ship was far off, but from what I couldmake out it was unlike any ship I've ever seen, or heard of. What's more-itwasn't following the coast or making for the smuggler's island. It was puttingout straight into the open sea."
"Did you tell this to the authorities?" Hakiem asked.
"The authorities," snorted the fisherman. "Tell them what? That my friends werestolen away by a ghost ship out of legend that sailed off over the horizon intouncharted waters? They would have thought I was drunk, or worse- added me to thecollection of crazies that Kitty-cat's been gathering. I've told them too muchas it is, though I've told you even more. Beware, storyteller, I'd not likelosing another day's fishing because you put my name to one of your yarns andstirred the curiosity of those do-nothing guards."
Hakiem would have liked to inquire further about the "ghost ship out of legend,"but it was apparent he was on the verge of overstaying his welcome. "I tell nostory before I know its end," he assured his glaring host. "And what you've toldme is barely the beginning of a tale. I'll hold my tongue until I've learnedmore, and even then I'll give you the first telling for free in payment for whatyou've given me now."
"Very well," Omat grumbled, "though I'd rather you skipped the tale and bought around of drinks instead."
"A poor man must guard his coinage," Hakiem laughed, rising to go, then hehesitated. "The Old Man's wife... ?" he asked.
Omat's eyelids dropped to half-mast, and there was a wall, suddenly, between thetwo men. "She'll be taken care of. In the Fisherman's Quarter, we look after ourown."
Feeling awkward, the storyteller fished a small pouch of coins from within his