"04 - Storm Season (a)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

"Investigate!" the fisherman spat noisily on the floor. "You know what they told
me-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 sudden
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
report the disappearance. You already know what they told me. Drowned in a
squall! And us still months away from the storm season. ..."

Hakiem waited until the fisherman had lapsed into silence before he spoke.
"Could it have been... some creature from the deep? I don't pretend to know
the sea, but even a storyteller hears tales."

Omat regarded him steadily. "Perhaps," he admitted carefully. "I wouldn't risk
the deep waters here in daylight, much less at night. Gods and monsters are both
best left untempted."

"Yet you risked them today," the storyteller persisted, cocking his head to one
side.

"The Old Man was my friend," the fisherman answered flatly. "But if it's
monsters you want for your stories-then I suggest you seek after the two-legged
kind that spend gold."

"What are you saying, Omat?"

Although they were already sitting close, Omat shot a furtive glance about the