A cool breeze danced across the waves of the Kanack Strait and blew through the remains of whispy ashen hair of Malfi Seaworth. The sun dripped down like honey and Malfi closed his eyes, looked up and took a deep breath. Another day in paradise.

He sat at the edge of an old dilapidated wooden dock, fishing line cast and a wicker basket half full of Perch next to him. 'A few more, Gulliver. Mrs S will be happy today, oh yes she will,' His chestnut nag neighed as if in agreement. 'Right you are, Gul.' He chuckled to himself.

A tug at the line pulled his concentration back on to the task at hand. 'Another nibble, Gul. At this rate we'll feed the whole bloody village, oh yes.' He said, licking his chapped lips.

The line pulled tight and bent his quaint wooden rod, putting it under considerable strain. More than what the Perch would. 'It's a big one, Gul. Here we go, boy.' He said excitedly as he stood up to strengthen his base. His old knees creaked under his hefty weight. Good job I got that new reel the other week, he mused as he slowly reeled in the line. His mind racked at the possibilities of what he was reeling in. If it was a large Kanack Karp he would fetch a tasty amount of Potch for it. Again, he licked his lips.

Dreams of Kanack Karp and Potch were short lived. He pulled with all the strength he could muster until something black breached the surface. 'Black cloth? Really you, you—'He glared at the blue waters and then thought better of cursing the gods.

The black cloth moved and Malfi thought for a second that he seen a body. It had been a body! Without thought, he leaped from the dock and crashed feet first through the water. As a young man he was a keen open water swimmer and he still could handle himself despite his seventy years.

Wrapping his arms around the black figure he pulled it tight to him and paddled his feet to move towards the stony shore. He could feel steel on his arm and for a second pondered how much it would fetch at the market next week.

His legs were like jelly when he made it to the shore. He hadn't moved that much in recent years due to his knees, as his faithful Guliver would testify. Turning the black figure over, he noticed it was a young man. Long black hair covered most of his pasty face. Malfi unstrapped the steel breastplate, that he would be selling next week, and beat his chest. 'Just like that young doc showed me, Gul.' His boulder fist slammed down repeatedly. 'I'll not be kissing the poor fella, mind!' Gulliver neighed again, and Malfi chuckled.

To his surprise, the man jerked up. Seawater sprayed from his mouth and covered Malfi. He grabbed the man and rolled him on to his side. 'That's it, lad. Cough it up. Come, Gul.' The horse came to him and he grabbed the strap from the saddle and gingerly got his feet. The man tried to stand, in amongst his coughing fit, and fell. 'Take it easy, fella. You've just spat up half the Kanack.'

The man looked at him curiously and tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse and cracked. Eventually he mouthed to him slowly and Malfi nodded. 'Kanakan, young man. How'd you end up in the sea?'

Again he mouthed after a bout of coughing. Something about a war? Malfi wasn't sure. He threw him a skin of water and took the skin of wine for himself. 'What's your name, son?'

This time the man used his fingers. T… R…O…Y... Malfi smiled. 'Well Mr Troy, it seems today the sea gods have given you a second chance. My village is half an hour inland from here. Let's get you patched up.' He took another glug of wine and patted Gulliver. 'Mrs S is in for a surprise today, Gul. Oh, yes.'