The Temporal Void (90 page)

‘What about supplies?’ Larby asked.

‘A pile of sacks and bags, probably enough food for three weeks at least. And three boxes of ammunition. They’re not done with raiding yet.’

‘Bastards,’ Verini growled.

‘So can we take them?’ Topar asked. ‘They outnumber us.’

‘By one,’ Fresage said dismissively. ‘And we have surprise on our side.’

‘I think it’s possible,’ Edeard said. ‘We’ll need to approach down a gully. I can keep the fastfoxes calm long enough for us to get past them. The trouble will be the three watchers, they longtalk each other all the time. As soon as one is taken out, the others will know.’

‘So we have to be within striking distance of the camp when that happens,’ Topar said.

‘I can take out the three watchers fast enough,’ Edeard said. ‘But I can’t guarantee they won’t call out; so you’ll have to deal with the others. Especially if we’re going to take one alive.’

‘I’d prefer to take two of them,’ Topar said.

‘Can our ge-wolves tackle the fastfoxes?’ a mildly apprehensive Dinlay asked.

‘We can’t take them with us,’ Edeard said. ‘That’s a whole new instinct I’d have to soothe out of the fastfoxes, and a much stronger one than human scent. We have to keep this as simple as possible.’

‘Lady . . . fastfoxes.’

‘They look fierce—’

‘Look!’

‘They are fierce, but that’s all they’ve got. Don’t waste time trying to shoot one, especially not in the dark. Heartsqueeze them, or pulp their brains. It barely takes a second to kill one. Fear is their only ally.’

‘Oh Lady,’ Dinlay groaned.

‘Can you do this?’ Topar asked with quiet authority.

Dinlay took a breath, managing to appear quite offended. ‘Of course I can do this. It’s only a fool who won’t admit his worry.’

‘Good. I want you to take out the two fastfoxes in the gully as soon as Edeard deals with the watchers.’

‘Certainly.’

Larby glanced up at the sky. ‘Do we do this now?’

‘No,’ Topar said. ‘It’s only a couple of hours until dawn, and we haven’t slept. We spend the day laying up here in the woods and resting, then tomorrow after midnight we strike.’

Edeard had never felt so apprehensive before. All those times he’d sneaked into the House of Blue Petals, rescuing Mirnatha, arresting Buate, even facing down Bise atop his mansion; he’d known and understood what he was facing then. This was different, the bandits were an unknown, and he certainly wasn’t as confident as Topar they could bring this off. It would only take one little mistake to alert the watchers, and then they’d be fending off nine rapid-fire guns.

At first light, three of the bandits left their camp, with ge-eagles orbiting high above them and fastfoxes trotting obediently alongside. One of them even sneaked through the edges of the wood where Edeard and his companions were encamped. Thankfully they were well hidden beneath the boughs, and his ge-eagle never spotted them as it flew overhead.

One of the bandits headed back to the pass at the side of Mount Alvice, while the other two went off in completely different directions.

‘Picket duty,’ Boloton decided. ‘They’re making sure nobody gets close. We were lucky.’

‘No,’ Verini said. ‘They’re good, we’re better.’

‘We’ll know tonight,’ Macsen said sagely.

Edeard didn’t manage much sleep during the day. He was restless, his mind going over the plan again and again. It all depended on how fast he could eliminate the three watchers.
That’s if they only have three watchers. Suppose they change the pattern each night? I would. No, I wouldn’t
. He eventually fell asleep in the afternoon.

Larby woke him. ‘The picket guards are on their way back,’ he said as Edeard blinked up at the darkening sky. Buluku was already visible, its swaying violet length beset with waves of electric-blue light. Odin’s Sea was rising above the eastern horizon, several scarlet spikes crowning its blue and green nucleus. He found its presence strangely reassuring. I wonder if Boyd has reached it already? Probably not. Who knows how far away it is?

There were an unusual number of stars in evidence, twinkling away in the wide gaps between the nebulas. At least Honious hadn’t appeared in the firmament. The way Edeard was feeling he would probably have taken that as a bad omen.
Stupid, because the sky is just the sky no matter what
.

They ate together, munching their way through half-stale bread and some cold pasties followed by dried fruit. However, Topar did allow them to use the Jamolar oil stove to heat some water for tea and coffee. They were too far away for a fastfox to pick up the scent.

‘No one else left or joined during the day,’ Macsen said. ‘So it’s just the nine of them.’

‘You sure it’s only nine?’ Fresage asked.

‘I counted nine,’ Edeard assured him.

‘I want everyone to oil and check their pistols,’ Topar said.

Edeard was thankful for the distraction, even though he knew he was sure he’d never use the weapon. His third hand was all he needed. But he went through the routine anyway.

Just after midnight, Topar led them out of the woods. It took them an hour to retrace the route Edeard had taken the previous night, moving slowly and cautiously. As they reached the end of the gully they linked hands before summoning up a concealment. Both Larby and Topar had insisted this was the best way of keeping in contact, whispers and strong farsight might be detected by the watchers. It was a strange sensation; Edeard could feel Dinlay’s hand in his, yet if he glanced back he could see only a blur of darkness.

Edeard walked forwards very slowly, using the weakest farsight he could to check the ground for tripwires or any other alarms. As he did so, he began to feel uncomfortable. A tremor ran through him.
Something wrong
.

The boulder-strewn walls rose sharply as the slope carried them down towards the bandit camp. Soon the steep walls were topped by imposing rock cliffs. Below their feet the ground was turning damp. Nebula-light revealed a meandering channel with thick reed tufts growing out between the stones. Edeard’s trepidation grew with every step. Cold had claimed him now. He knew what this feeling was. The same as that night in Ashwell, the same as the entrapment atop the tower in Eyrie.

There can’t be anything wrong. Not here. They don’t know we’re coming for them. They can’t know!

On top of that anxiety, Edeard began to worry if his longtalk could reach the sentry fastfoxes before they scented him coming. It would be touch and go, he knew. He hadn’t realized the gulley was this deep, nor so serpentine.

The sense of foreboding grew even stronger. He thought he could hear a whisper. Not with his ears. His mind. A very faint longtalk?

He walked through a small shallow stream, moving carefully so he didn’t create a splash, only to find his boots sinking with alarming speed. Quicksand. ‘Shit,’ he whispered through clenched teeth. He had to reach down with his third hand to stabilize the treacherous ground. His finger tapped three times on Dinlay’s hand – caution.

There was a tremendous scraping sound from above, as if the stone cliffs were splitting. Edeard immediately sensed a number of powerful farsights stabbing down, farsights that weren’t fooled by concealment. The noise grew even louder.

‘Weapons!’ Topar shouted.

Edeard dropped his concealment and sent his farsight straight towards the sound. What he found shocked him for a dangerous instant. Three huge boulders were starting to roll down the slope directly above them, and as they moved they dislodged a whole swarm of smaller boulders. ‘
Ambush!
’ he bellowed, and immediately strengthened his shield. At once he realized it wouldn’t do him the slightest use, not against such a cascade of stone, the mass starting to slide down on top of them was incredible. He instinctively grabbed Dinlay with his third hand and threw him up the slope on the other side.

‘Hello again, Edeard,’ a mental voice sneered.

Edeard was scrambling up the slope as the first boulders picked up speed. He reached for Macsen. But he knew that voice, and the cruelty behind it. The leader from Ashwell, the man who had killed Edeard’s village, his life. Akeem’s murderer.

Dinlay had recovered from his abrupt flight. He started shooting his pistol across the gully. It was a signal for Topar and Fresage to open fire. Verini began to run back along the gully. The overwhelming noise from the accelerating avalanche was joined by the deadly sound of rapid-fire guns. The three large boulders had been covering the mouths of caves in the cliffs. Now a dozen bandits were spilling out, taking aim on Edeard and his companions. The only thing preventing immediate death was the avalanche itself. To many rocks were interfering with their field of fire.

‘The great Waterwalker himself,’ laughed Edeard’s tormentor.

By now the smaller head-sized stones were bouncing down around Edeard. Bullets chewed the ground beside his feet. A screaming Dinlay dived for cover behind a rock. Not fast enough. Bullets chewed his legs, then thudded into his torso.

A stream of bullets smashed into Edeard. His shield held and he instinctively punched back along the line of attack. One of the ambushers flew backwards through the air, spraying blood.

Three big stones crashed into Fresage. His cry was cut off.

Macsen fired his pistol up at the ambushers. The ground around him was ripped apart by rapid-gun fire. Edeard screamed at the massive flare of pain Macsen’s dying brain unleashed. His third hand lashed out wildly again at the ambushers, knocking four of them sideways. Two came careering down the slope after the avalanche, bones snapping as they twisted and tumbled.

A giant boulder smashed into Larby’s chest, flinging him to the ground. More stones bounced and skittered on top of him.

Edeard was dancing about on the slope, trying to avoid the lethal barrage, smacking at the stones hurtling at him, deflecting them. Then the biggest boulder of all, nearly twice his height, slammed into the bottom of the gulley, shaking the ground. Momentum sent it spinning right at him.

He held it. The incredible weight was nothing. He just grabbed it with his third hand and stopped it dead in the air. It hung there, three feet off the ground as his lips twisted savagely with the effort. A shower of smaller stones from the avalanche smacked into it. Edeard held fast. One of the other original boulders rolled past, then teetered on the slope and skittered back down to the bottom of the gully.

‘Ladyfuck!’ someone’s frantic longtalk shouted.

‘How’s he doing that?’

‘Kill him. Kill the little shit.’

The rapid-fire guns began shooting. Bullets thudded into the boulder hanging in front of Edeard. He could hear strange whirring
pings
as ricochets twirled off in all directions. The reverberations of falling rock grumbled away as the avalanche slithered to its end.

Edeard lifted the boulder high, above his head, higher, three times his height. Higher still. It drew level with the caves on the other side of the gully. Seven bandits were crouched down on a long ledge running in front of the dark openings. They gaped in disbelief at the massive rock that was now curving through the air towards them. Accelerating.

It struck the first one, knocking him away into the gully. The impact didn’t even slow it down. Everyone on the ledge tried to run, but there was no room and no time. The boulder hammered into them, crushing their bodies to pulp or sending them spinning off into the chasm. Then Edeard brought it down very precisely on the last bandit.

After that, he simply stood there. Arms by his side. Staring numbly at the great swathe of shingle which the avalanche had created on the other side of the gully. He started to shake. Arms first, then his legs trembled and his muscles gave out. He dropped to his knees.

‘Dinlay?’ he called with mind and voice. ‘Dinlay? Macsen? Topar? Anyone?’

He sensed the fastfoxes coming, slinking along the bottom of the gully, hurrying to do their masters’ bidding. To bring death to the intruder. Without even thinking, he shoved his third hand into their skulls and tore at the soft brain tissue. They fell silently, sprawling over the stony ground.

The remaining bandits followed stealthily. Creeping along under concealment, rapid-fire guns held ready. Edeard let them come close, then killed them. Pulling them from where they crouched and crawled, and snapping their spines. They were discarded one after the other, dropping out of the night to lie broken beside their fastfoxes. He felt nothing. No sorrow. No anger. Nothing.

Dinlay’s shredded body was sprawled on the slope above him, where he should have been safe. Where he
would
have been safe after Edeard dropped him there, if he’d just stayed down. But Dinlay would never cower behind a rock while his comrades were under attack. Not Dinlay.

Edeard focused his farsight down the slope. Macsen’s bloody corpse was staring up at Odin’s Sea. Defiant to the last, he’d even got off a shot after the first swarm of bullets had struck. Fresage and Topar were buried below mounds of stone. Boloton had been pinned down by a rock landing on his legs. Other stones had battered him while several bullets punctured his chest and head. There wasn’t much left that was recognizable. And Verini hadn’t got more than half a dozen paces back up the gully before the rapid-fire guns had found him. Larby’s arms and legs

protruded from underneath one of the large boulders; there was nothing left of his torso but a mangled patch of gore soaking into the earth.

Edeard started crying. ‘Why do you do this to me?’ he yelled at Odin’s Sea. ‘Lady, why? What have I done that’s so evil to be punished like this. Why?
Why?
Tell me you stinking bitch.’ He sobbed relentlessly. ‘Why?’ Then he was curled up on the ground, helpless. Wanting this monstrous life to end. Wanting to die.

‘Edeard.’

The voice was speaking from a very long way away.

‘Edeard, this is not over.’

He wiped a hand over his face, smearing the mud and tears and blood that were clinging to him. ‘Who . . . oh.’

‘Edeard.’

Through his grief he sighed in understanding, and extended his farsight to where he thought the voice was coming from. Concentrating as best he could. ‘The Master of Sampalok himself,’ he said with bitter affection.