Peter Hamilton - The Temporal Void

'What? What? Dinlay spluttered.

'You okay back there? Macsen called in a voice that was far too calm. It triggered a suspicious grin on Edeard's face. When he pushed his farsight into Dinlay's boot he found a mush in the toe that had been a utog beetle, a native insect with a particularly prickly carapace.

'Did you…? an outraged Dinlay gasped. 'Was that you…?

'Me what? Macsen replied innocently.

The others were chuckling now as Dinlay started shivering, partly from the bruise on his buttocks and partly from the cold; he was dressed only in a thin shirt and cotton under-trousers.

'May the Lady crap on you from a great height, Dinlay muttered darkly. His third hand pulled his glasses on to his face, then began scraping the squashed remains of the beetle out of his boot.

'Children, children, Fresage said with a shake of his head. He pushed his blanket back and rose ponderously, flexing his arms to work out the knots earned from sleeping on rough ground.

Edeard pulled on a thick sweater of his own and clambered to his feet. He never could get comfortable just lying on the ground. A careful farsight examination of his own boots revealed they were unused by nesting insects, and he pulled them on.

Topar had snatched up a pistol as soon as he'd woken. Now he gave Macsen a disapproving glance and clicked the safety catch back on.

Boloton and Larby started rolling up their sleeping blankets. Now his boot was clean, Dinlay transferred his attention to his toe. Several utog spikes were sticking through his woollen socks. He removed them one at a time.

'Well done, Edeard said to Macsen. 'Just how I envisaged a District Master would behave.

Verini was grinning along with the rest of them. 'How did you three ever clear the city of gangs? he mused quietly.

Macsen flashed Edeard a profoundly guilty smirk.

'You're so pathetic, Dinlay grumbled.

'Got to do something to stay awake, Macsen murmured. He pulled a kettle off the little stove that burned Jamolar oil. "lea anyone?

'You do have a use, Fresage mocked.

'Few and far between, but those I have I excel at.

Edeard and Dinlay exchanged a look. 'Not what Kanseen says, Dinlay said smugly, and pulled his boot on.

Edeard took his cup over to Macsen. 'You're an arse, he said, grinning as his friend poured out the boiling water.

'Yep, and that's just on the plus side.

Edeard stirred in one of the hand-tied linen tea packets which the tenth floor housekeeper had made up for him. The others had ribbed him mercilessly about those, but they wound up 'borrowing' them at every meal.

'How much longer is this going to take? Dinlay asked as he held his cup out.

'For all this is empty land, there aren't that many places the bandits can hide out in, Topar said, drinking down his own tea. 'Shepherds use the high pastures for grazing, and it's turning cold up here now.

'They will have found themselves half a dozen remote camp sites, Fresage said. 'And they'll shift between them.

Edeard gave the valley to the south a shrewd gaze. The Donsori Mountains weren't the highest range on Querencia, yet the snowcaps were creeping downwards again as the last weeks of summer passed away. And the forests that smothered the mid-slopes were changing colour, the fronds on the dominant kalkand trees were shading towards beige as they began to contract. Below the treeline, the gentler lower slopes had a yellow tinge. Grass deprived of water during the dry summer months was just starting to taste rain again. Clumps chewed down by terrestrial sheep and cattle along with the roaming flocks of native chamalans were putting up their last wispy sprouts before the snows came once more. The soil on these remote lands wasn't rich enough to support farms. There were a few isolated cattle stations but that was all. Though with the peaks fencing away clouds the air was beautifully clear. Visibility stretched for miles.

'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 half way 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.