the sunlight.

But I saw it all with only half an eye. I was still thinking of the dark
hall behind me, and the cold, unwelcome stillness of the shuttered rooms.
I could understand his depression, now that he had come back to it. But
there was something else.... I was still thinking of it when I looked at
the _Eclipse_ again. It would have been hard to find a craft of more
delicate, graceful lines. They often said he had a flair for ships and
women. A shifting current, some freak of the wind and tide, was making
her twist and pull at her anchor, and for a moment the sun struck clean
on her broadside. A gaping hole between decks had connected two of her
ports in a jagged rent.

It was not surprising. My father's ships were often fired on at sea. Nor
was it strange that Brutus had a half-healed scar on his cheek. But why
had my father gone armed to his own wharf? Perhaps I might have forgotten
if I had not visited the stables.

Our carriage harness still hung from the pegs, dried and twisted by the
years, and minus its silver trimmings. The sunlight filtered through
cracks in the roof, and danced through the dust mites to the rows of
vacant stalls. Near the door my horse was feeding comfortably, and beside
him stood two bays that shone from careful grooming. One was carrying a
saddle with a pair of pistols in the pocket. Yet not a hair had been
turned from riding.




II