Chapter One
Hunter Predd was patrolling the waters of the Blue Divide north of the island
of Mesca Rho, a Wing Hove outpost at the western edge of Elven territorial
waters, when he saw the man clinging to the spar. The man was draped over the
length of wood as if a cloth doll, his head laid on the spar so that his face
was barely out of the water, one arm wrapped loosely about his narrow float to
keep him from sliding away. His skin was burned and ravaged from sun, wind, and
weather, and his clothing was in tatters. He was so still it was impossible to
tell if he was alive. It was the odd rolling movement of his body within the
gentle swells, in fact, that first caught Hunter Predd's eye.
Obsidian was already banking smoothly toward the castaway, not needing the
touch of his master's hands and knees to know what to do. His eyes sharper than
those of the Elf, he had spotted the man in the water before Hunter and shifted
course to effect a rescue. It was a large part of the work he was trained to do,
locating and rescuing those whose ships had been lost at sea. The Roc could
tell a man from a piece of wood or a fish a thousand yards away.
He swung around slowly, great wings stretched ... read full excerpt from: Voyage of the Jerle Shannara: Ilse Witch ebook
