Chapter 8
The dead calm which engulfed the city had extended its long hands as far as the harbour. The deserted wharfs stuck out like skeletal fingers, reaching for leaden waters. The damp salty air stuck to our eyes and hair and just breathing was exhausting.
I moved warily towards the Cala. The small fishing boats bobbed up and down like empty abandoned shells. There was no sign of any fishermen. Yet I was sure that the jewels I had brought with me would convince someone to run the risk of taking passengers on board.
We walked the whole length of the harbour in a vain search for a human presence. I was starting to lose hope, wondering if my idea was mere folly.
In the distance I thought I could see some movement and we walked in the direction of the larger quays where galleys and sai
