“Fantastic blend”, I said, marvelling at the taste, almost like a cross between a fruity herbal tea and a floral mead.

  “Thankyou”, he replied, “I always keep a little in stock in case of guests”.

  “Do you have guests often?”, I asked, trailing the fingers of one hand in the water beside the boat.

  “Every now and then”, Silas said, “Often the young or curious at heart”. I smiled at him, “I guess that makes me two for two”, I said, while raising my mug to accept some more of the lovely tea.

  We both sat back on the cushions and watched the riverbank slowly trundle by. “It must be amazing, being able to do this each day”, I said. Silas looked down at his mug, but not before I caught the look of sadness on his face. “Is something wrong?”, I asked, wondering if I had somehow brought up a difficult topic.

  “Can I tell you a story?”, he said.

  “Ah, sure”, I replied, hesitating slightly, not sure where this conversation was going.

  “This boat was not always mine alone, I used to share it with another but she was taken from me many years ago.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!”, I said, “I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories from the past. Are you sure you want to talk about it?”

  “It’s fine”, he said, “Back then I was a young man, eager to see the world and living in the moment as so many young people do. One day during my travels I had stopped to camp by a riverside and after setting the tent had gone down to the water to fill my water bottles. As I approached the water, I heard the sound of splashing - thinking that someone may be in distress, and quite forgetting that I could not swim, I rushed to the edge of the bank and dived in towards the commotion. It was then that I realised the error I had made as my waterlogged clothes and heavy boots began to pull me further under the water. I began to panic, still unable to touch the bottom, when I felt a hand take mine and pull me upwards.” He paused for a moment, a bright smile on his face, seemingly lost in his recollections.

  I waited for what felt like forever before he continued on.

  “She dragged me to the riverbank and deposited me half on the shore, where I lay gasping like a landed fish. She retreated back into the current, just her head and shoulders showing above the water, watching me recover, her head tilted to one side as if wondering if I would expire despite her rescue.”

  “She was beautiful”, he said, “Not just because she had rescued me from certain death, but she looked like some sort of fantastical river goddess in my young mind, long flowing black hair, eyes of the deepest blue and a scatter of freckles across her aquiline nose.”, he sighed.

  “Her name was Syrene”.