The Temporal Void (89 page)

‘If they’re to move round unnoticed it will have to be through the trees,’ Larby said.

‘And the camps will have to be within range of villages,’ Topar agreed. He pointed at the summit of Mount Alvice at the south-eastern end of the valley. ‘There’s a plateau beyond the crest, with several villages. Sandmarket is a day’s ride beyond that.’

‘That kind of area is a possible for them,’ Boloton agreed. ‘Secluded but in range of Regentfleet.’

Edeard thought they were right, but didn’t say anything. He was content with someone else making all the decisions for once. Topar hadn’t said how long he was prepared to stay out here trying to track down the bandits, but they were carrying enough food for a fortnight.

Once they were back in the saddle, Topar led them onwards towards Mount Alvice. As before, they clung to the treeline to avoid being spotted. They were assuming the bandits would be using ge-eagles, and probably dogs. All of them had listened intently to Edeard on the first day when he told them about the tamed fastfoxes he’d encountered back in Rulan province.

By midday they were halfway round the mountain’s slopes when Topar stopped them. Their ge-eagles came flashing down to settle among the treetops. Verini, who was using the ge-eagle with ordinary vision, had spied two similar ge-eagles in the air above the shallow pass into the plateau country. The pair of them were orbiting high above the stony track, soaring round in a huge circle.

‘Definitely keeping watch,’ Topar said after they’d watched the ge-eagles for over half an hour. ‘We’ll have to go through the trees to get past them.’

Everyone dismounted and began to lead their ge-horses into the trees. Edeard went last, sweeping his farsight along the track through the pass to see if he could locate the bandits instructing the ge-eagles. There was no sign of them, not even if he used the counter to concealment – though that wasn’t reliable at any distance. They were either on the other side of the pass, or hidden behind some thick rock.

Their ge-wolves prowled through the forest of kalkand trees, using natural senses to scent anyone hidden amid the undergrowth. It was dank and cold under the boughs, as if the tall leaden trunks were somehow caging a winter’s mist. The cold soon wormed its way through their jackets and trousers to chill their limbs. Everyone had to use their third hand to ward off low branches and clinging damp fronds. The undergrowth of straggly bushes stunted by the lack of light tore at their legs, slowing them further. An endless canopy of scarlet sporecones dripped sap on to their hats which then dribbled in sluggish rivulets down on to their shoulders.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the far side of the mountain. The plateau was more hospitable than the saddle lands behind. A broad expanse of deciduous forests and long meadows laced with small streams. The peaks all around were low, without snowcaps. Miles away to the north-east they could see a village; its yellow stone buildings cresting a hillock. Thin strands of smoke wound their way up out of chimneys.

‘No wall,’ Edeard said under his breath. Even now that still startled him. He remembered his surprise on the long journey east with the Barkus caravan how the fortifications around settlements grew smaller and more dilapidated with every mile they travelled. Until finally in Oxfolk province on the other side of the Ulfsen Mountains they had been abandoned altogether, leaving towns and villages completely exposed to whatever lurked outside their boundary. Only nothing dangerous did lurk there, not any more. Not for hundreds of years.

With the pass guarded by the ge-eagles far behind them, Topar guided them along the treeline to a steep little valley leading away from the mountain. They hiked down to the stream at the bottom, and mounted up again. The ge-horses splashed along the stone bed, taking them out on to the plateau. Small martoz and bluebeech trees grew out of the steep slopes, their roots webbing the big flood boulders littering the valley. Long whip-like branches waved across the sky above them, providing more cover. Their ge-eagles flew low, barely skimming the uppermost branches, watching for any of their own kind; while the ge-wolves spread out across the boggy meadowland on either side, sniffing the air.

As the sun fell below the high, rumpled horizon they reached one of the many forests sprawled across the plateau. Here the trees weren’t so tight, and the ground underfoot was a mat of dead leaves and soft loam. Tall weeds and grass offered no resistance to the ge-horses. They made their way to the centre where they set up camp.

When the first glimmers of the nebulas began to shimmer overhead, Topar dispatched their five night-viewing ge-eagles to see if they could spot the watchers from the pass.

‘They’re here somewhere,’ Macsen said intently. ‘They wouldn’t keep a look-out on the pass otherwise.’

‘Unless they’re in the valley on the other side of it,’ Dinlay pointed out. ‘And we crossed each other sometime when we both crept through the trees.’

‘Ever the optimist,’ Macsen grunted.

‘Practicalist.’

‘That’s not a word.’

‘Realist,’ Larby supplied.

‘Thank you,’ Dinlay said.

‘They’re here on the plateau,’ Topar said.

Edeard was one of those guiding the ge-eagles, his farsight enabling him to send it over vast swathes of land. It soared up into the air, giving it a broad view of the rolling plateau. Topar had asked him to cover the south-east, where there were forests and narrow gullies and long talus slides spilling out below from faultline crags.

The ge-eagle flew swift and silent, showing him the muted ground, as if he was peering down on a world shrouded by the thickest stormclouds. He saw a drakken pack scampering along a slim gorge like an oily tide; then they began to churn around a chamalan carcass. Small rusals skipped nimbly up bushes and trees, searching for cones and pods to store for the winter. Trilans wove their low dams across streams, producing wide bogs that proved treacherous to other animals. Several flocks of chamalans huddled together, those on the outside nervous of whatever skulked through the night.

After an hour observing the relatively harmless nocturnal activities of the plateau’s wildlife, the ge-eagle caught a flash of motion next to a sprawl of hatlash trees growing along the marshy banks of a small lake. Something bigger and faster than anything else it had seen that night. The ge-eagle dipped its wing and curved round until it was coasting along several hundred feet above the tops of the hatlash trees. Their trunks were swollen from the lake water, pressed together in a battle for space; the pushing and shoving resulted in the trees leaning at steep angles, producing an interlocked tangle. Perfect cover. The ge-eagle turned again, scouring the swaying treetops for any sign of incongruous movement.

It glimpsed something on the third pass, and began a tight spiral. Through its eyes Edeard saw a fastfox slinking along, picking its way through the ragged curtains of weeping boughs. The big predator sped up when it reached a small clearing where dead trunks were rotting into a rancid pile of fungi. Even so, the ge-eagle clearly saw the collar round its neck.

‘They’re here,’ Edeard announced quietly, and gifted the ge-eagle’s vision to the others.

‘Sweet Lady,’ Dinlay muttered.

‘I never thought I’d ever see one of those things,’ Macsen said.

Edeard instructed the ge-eagle to back off.

‘Why?’ Larby asked.

‘Its master won’t be far away,’ Edeard explained. ‘They’re not that easy to keep control of, I know. He might farsight our ge-eagle.’

Sure enough, a few minutes later the fastfox left the hatlash trees. A man was with it, jogging along effortlessly.

‘Dear Lady,’ Edeard gasped. The man was wearing a simple dark tunic and knee-length boots. Two belts were looped over his shoulders, crossing his chest. Slim metal boxes were clipped to it, the kind that held bullets for the rapid-fire gun that was hanging on a third strap. ‘He’s one of them!’ Shock was making him giddy. His hands started pawing at his chest as he sucked down air.

‘Them?’ Macsen asked. ‘You mean the bandits?’

‘The ones from Ashwell. He’s dressed exactly the same as they were that night. I swear on the Lady, he’s got to be one of
them
.’ He became aware of the nervous glances the others were trading. ‘Them,’ he insisted.

‘To be expected,’ Topar said. ‘They chased me before.’

‘That’s no bandit from the wilds,’ Larby said.

‘Are you okay?’ Macsen asked in concern.

Edeard nodded a slow reassurance. Seeing this nemesis return out of his own past was profoundly shocking.
But I’ve grown since then. This time it’s their turn to know fear
.

‘Do you recognize this actual one?’ Dinlay asked.

Edeard returned to the ge-eagle’s view. The bird was still gliding higher, keeping level to the bandit and his fastfox. The profile was hardly distinct, but . . . ‘No,’ Edeard said. ‘I don’t remember any faces, not really.’
Though there’s one mind I will know forever
.

‘All right,’ Topar said, ‘Let’s follow him, see where he takes us.’

The ge-eagle stayed high in the air above the bandit, gliding idly to keep pace. Topar got them all back in the saddle as the bird reached the edge of Edeard’s perception, and they started to ride slowly after the bandit, leaving the forest behind. All of them cast a seclusion haze, even though the nebulas above were wan shadows of their usual iridescence. The mild psychic baffle should be enough to deter all but the sharpest farsight at night. To bolster their safety the ge-wolves ranged around them, while two of the night-viewing ge-eagles under Verini’s instruction scouted ahead. Their own farsight was used to guide the horses through the darkness.

‘Is it just one?’ Macsen asked after half an hour. The bandit was making good time, alternatively jogging, then walking, heading south-east, and making use of the spinneys and thickets

that were scattered across the plateau. He was clearly adept at moving unseen across the land, even the ge-eagle had trouble keeping track of him in some of the deeper terrain.

‘I can’t see any others,’ Edeard admitted. They’d deliberately kept a long way back in case the bandit had a powerful farsight. ‘But I know from experience they can all use concealment.’

‘Great Lady,’ Boloton said. ‘There could be an army of them following us.’

‘There isn’t,’ Edeard promised him.

It was almost midnight when the bandit reached the top end of a narrow gulley. He stopped, and squatted down amid a clump of tall weather-worn stones coated in thick kimoss. The fastfox sped away, back the way they’d just come.

‘Let’s get into cover,’ Topar said. They guided their mounts towards the nearest small wood.

The fastfox chased back along its path, stopping to sniff cautiously every now and again.

‘He’s double checking,’ Fresage said. ‘Wherever he is, he considers it important. He’s not going on until he’s satisfied he’s clear.’

‘Pull the ge-eagle back,’ Topar told Edeard. ‘If their camp is nearby, we can’t risk exposing ourselves.’

Edeard instructed the bird to spiral higher. The lay of the land was revealed to him, falling away to the east and split by several rocky gullies.

‘Two of those gullies meet up, look,’ Verini said. ‘It’s a hollow with a cliff along one side. Perfect place for a concealed camp.’

‘This is where I go in and check, then,’ Edeard said.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Dinlay said immediately.

‘Thanks, but this is just a scout round to see if they’re there. My concealment is stronger than anyone’s, and I know I can shield myself if they do spot me.’ He could sense the concern in everybody’s mind.

‘Just be careful,’ Macsen said. ‘There’s no city to protect you out here.’

‘I’m just going to look, I swear on the Lady.’

They all watched through the lone ge-eagle as the fastfox returned, and the bandit started down the gulley.

‘You’ve got two hours,’ Topar said. ‘After that we will come looking for you.’

It took Edeard a while to decide his approach. The top of the little cliff would surely be guarded; and fastfoxes had an excellent sense of smell. But the gullies, too, would be watched. Possibly there’d be a tripwire that he might not detect.

The cliff top it is, then.

As soon as he left the wood he spun a concealment around himself, becoming no more than a dense wisp of dark air. His farsight swept out, alert for any hint of danger.

Just as he’d suspected, there were fastfoxes acting as sentinels above the cliff. They were curled up amid the boulders littering the long grass, wide awake, sniffing the night air for foreign scents. He reached out with his longtalk, and began subverting their orders, coaxing them away from their obedient attentive state, allowing them to stretch and settle down comfortably, scratch their hides and groom some of the day’s mud away. A sensation of contentment began to percolate through their thoughts. When one finally registered his scent, it dismissed the intrusive smell as being an irrelevance.

There was a lone human watcher standing near the edge of the cliff. He was concealed, but Edeard could sense his farsight washing back and forth intermittently. Once he’d worked out the approximate location, he used his own farsight to gently prise apart the concealment. The bandit was revealed, with the customary twin belts of ammunition boxes across his chest, and a repeat-fire gun on a strap over his shoulder. There were also several knives and blade discs in various pouches. He even had an ordinary pistol. For all his toughness and weapons, he hadn’t noticed how slack the fastfoxes had become. His thoughts remained blissfully unsuspicious.

Edeard picked a section of the cliff eighty yards away from the bandit, and crept forward.

‘Nine of them?’ Topar asked. ‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes,’ Edeard said for the third time. ‘One on top of the cliff controlling the fastfoxes. Five asleep below an overhang, and the one we followed settling down for the night. Then there’s two watching the gullies, both concealed. There’s also two fastfoxes in each gulley. I saw five ge-eagles, and nine terrestrial horses.’