Free The Hunter by Rose Estes Page B

closely. But even this brief glimpse was enough to see that great damage had been inflicted upon
     the place. It was in great disarray. Holes had been breached in smooth surfaces and objects torn from the walls, and the floor
     was strewn with water-soaked debris.
    The vision directed itself at the far end of the cavern where it was possible to see that the river had flowed at one time
     through a precisely carved channel. Water still eddied at the bottom of this channel, butting up against a landslide of black
     rock that filled the channel from its lowest point and rose to the roof above, solid and impenetrable. Finding no access,
     the water had found another exit, punching its way through a wall that had proved weaker than its relentless strength.
    Now he beheld a wall that bristled with strange objects and mysterious runes and a variety of blinking lights in all colors
     of the rainbow. It was confusing and painful to see, for Braldt understood nothing, recognized not a single item that had
     any reference to his life. The vision fixed on a single object, a handle of some sort, pressed flat against the wall. In his
     mind the handle seemed to raise of its own will until it was fixed in an upright position in a direction completely opposite
     the way it had been. The vision repeated itself twice again and then Braldt understood what was wanted. The handle was to
     be raised upright and he wasto do it. The vision repeated itself a third time and a warm glow filled his mind and he knew that he had not been mistaken.
    Then the view moved to another wall, this one damaged more heavily, and focused on a square object, white in color with a
     crimson mark fixed in the exact center, two straight lines, one vertical, one horizontal, crossing in the center. The image
     fixed itself on the white box and remained there until it faded away.
    Braldt blinked and raised his head, looking straight at Attruk but seeing the image of the white box still, knowing that it
     was the object they would seek; the thing that would save Auslic’s life.

6

    They left the following morning after being blessed by priests and cried over by Jos. Otius had laid his palm on their heads as well and then walked away, leaning on his walking
     stick more heavily than was his custom, with head bowed as though he had become an old man overnight.
    Before dawn Braldt had wakened, unable to sleep despite his extreme fatigue, and he had crept through the sleeping house and
     entered Auslic’s chambers, needing to feel his presence. Much to his surprise, Auslic lay with his head turned toward the
     door, awake and alert as though he had been awaiting Braldt’s arrival.
    Braldt hurried to the bed and knelt beside him. Although his face was still contorted and fixed, it was obvious that Auslic
     was far from the shores of the River of Death. He looked at Braldt and smiled fondly. “I knew you would come; you have never
     failed me yet.”
    “And never will I fail you, Father,” Braldt replied. “I must call Jos and your brother, they will rejoice to see you awake
     and well.”
    “No!” Auslic whispered harshly, seizing Braldt by the wrist and holding him firmly. “No one must know. I wish others to believe
     that the River of Death laps at my feet. I will not die this night but neither am I well. This is no great tragedy for I have
     lived far longer than other men and I will not argue when it is my turn to sail the Great River, but there is something to
     be done before I take my leave. Something I should have done many turnings ago had I but had the courage.” Auslic’s face was
     grave, the downward cast of his features lending his words a grim overtone.
    “Tell me what you wish done, Father, and I will do itfor you,” said Braldt even as he wondered at the thought of Auslic lacking courage, for Auslic possessed more strength of
     character than anyone Braldt had ever known.
    “You are already doing it for me,” Auslic said as he shifted