"Brooks, Terry - Jerle Shannara 01 - Ilse Witch" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

bones and found none. The only obvious physical damage seemed
to be to his face. Mostly, he was suffering from exposure and lack of
nourishment. Hunter placed a little fresh water from his pouch on
the man's lips and let it trickle down his throat. The man's lips
moved slightly.
Hunter considered his options and decided to take the man to
the seaport of Bracken Clell, the closest settlement where he could
find an Elven Healer to provide the care that was needed. He could
take the man to Mesca Rho, but the island was only an outpost. An-
other Wing Rider and himself were its only inhabitants. No healing
help could be found there. If he wanted to save the man's life, he
would have to risk carrying him east to the mainland.
The Wing Rider bathed the man's skin in fresh water and ap-
plied a healing salve that would protect it from further damage.
Hunter carried no extra clothing, the man would have to travel in
the rags he wore. He tried again to give the man fresh water, and
this time the man's mouth worked more eagerly in response, and he
moaned softly. For an instant his ruined eyes tried to open, and
he mumbled unintelligibly.
As a matter of course and in response to his training, the Wing
Rider searched the man and took from his person the only two
items he found. Both surprised and perplexed him. He studied each
carefully, and the frown on his lips deepened.
Unwilling to delay his departure any longer, Hunter picked up
the man and, with Obsidian's help, eased him into place on the
Roc's broad back. A pad cushioned and restraining straps secured
him. After a final check, Hunter climbed back aboard his mount,
and Obsidian lifted away.
They flew east toward the coming darkness for three hours, and
sunset was approaching when they sighted Bracken Clell. The sea-
port's population was a mixture of races, predominantly Elven, and
the inhabitants were used to seeing Wing Riders and their Rocs
come and go. Hunter Predd took Obsidian upland to a clearing
marked for landings, and the big Roc swung smoothly down into
the trees. A messenger was sent into town from among the curious
who quickly gathered, and the Elven Healer appeared with a clutch
of litter bearers.
"What's happened to him?" the Healer asked of Hunter Predd,
Ofl discovering the man's empty eye sockets and ruined mouth.
Hunter shook his head. "That's how I found him."
"Identification? Who is he?"
"I don't know," the Wing Rider lied.
He waited until the Healer and his attendants had picked up the
man and begun carrying him toward the Healer's home, where the
man would be placed in one of the sick bays in the healing center,
before dispatching Obsidian to a more remote perch, then fol-
lowing after the crowd. What he knew was not to be shared with
the Healer or anyone else in Bracken Clell. What he knew was
meant for one man only.
He sat on the Healer's porch and smoked his pipe, his long-