Doctor Who_ The Massacre Part 6

'With pleasure,' Steven said and tried to keep a serious expression on his face as they left the room. The Cardinal's palace was the epitome of luxury with high, vaulted corridors and priceless tapestries and paintings hanging on the walls. The floors were tiled in marble and along the centre was an exquisite red pile carpet. Here and there were satin-covered chairs and the white double doors which opened to the rooms beyond had superbly painted and delicately decorated panels. Steven thought that it was a far cry from the streets he and the Doctor had walked along the previous day. Then they came to a double door with two liveried halberdiers standing outside.

'My Lord Abbot,' Duval said to neither in particular and the doors were promptly opened. Duval waved Steven to lead the way in and the doors closed silently behind them. They stood in a small, carpeted reception room furnished with chairs, similar to the ones outside,and an ornate desk. The man seated behind it jumped to his feet as soon as he saw them. He had an hara.s.sed air to him but he was clearly relieved to see Duval.

'My Lord Abbot awaits, sir,' he said, scurrying over to a second double door to open one side of it. This time Duval went in first, the door closing discreetly behind them.

The Abbot of Amboise sat on a high-backed, gilt chair behind a huge, intricately carved, marble-topped desk. His cowl was thrown back off his head and his hands joined as if in prayer with the tips of his forefingers resting against his pursed lips. But the eyes above them were cold and hard. Steven decided that he had never seen the Doctor look so angry.

'Who is this fellow?' the Abbot asked in glacial tones as he swung his joined hands away from his lips to point them at Steven.

Both Steven and Duval were completely taken aback and, after a moment, a confused Duval looked from the Abbot to Steven and back to the Abbot again while Steven stood and stared.

'What would the wretch with me?' the Abbot demanded, while Duval stammered and stuttered. 'Speak up, for mercy's sake!'

'I th thought you kn knew him, my Lo ord,' Duval finally managed to say.

'I have never seen him before in my life,' the Abbot snapped. 'Put him back where he was found.'

'Yes, my Lord, at once, my Lord,' Duval replied and, grabbing Steven by the arm, ushered him out of the room.

Subtle old devil, Steven thought as he let Duval lead him away, realising that the Doctor had meant for him to be taken back to the auberge.

'Clap this creature in the cells,' Duval ordered the guards as soon as they reached the corridor.

'That's not what he meant,' Steven protested as the halberdiers grabbed him by his arms. 'He wanted me taken back to the auberge.'

For a fraction of a second Duval hesitated but then he remembered the Abbot had said that he had never seen Steven before. 'The cells,' Duval insisted and hurried back to the Abbot's office where his second reception was even frostier than the first.

'I ordered the arrest of some heretic apothecaries. Where are they?' the Abbot demanded as the door closed behind Duval.

'In hiding, my Lord,' the luckless Duval replied. 'They heard of the warrant.'

'How?'

Duval shook his head. 'I don't know, my Lord, other than the fact that the Huguenot Viscount Lerans was involved.'

'And who might he be?'

'He was presented to you at the banquet last night.'

'As were many others,' the Abbot snapped. 'Describe him.'

Duval looked around the room. They were alone, the Abbot and he, so he leant forward across the desk and lowered his voice. 'The tall, blond-haired young man I challenged at the Roman Bridge Auberge,' he murmured discreetly and then asked the Abbot if he remembered the incident.

The Abbot's eyes became those of a cobra as he looked through hooded eyes at Duval. 'Ah, that young man,' he muttered and abruptly ended the interview by ordering Duval to bend every effort to find the apothecaries.

Once outside and walking slowly along the corridor towards his own office Duval was curious about the Abbot's refusal to acknowledge Steven but was satisfied that he had done the right thing to throw him back in a cell.

It was not until later in the day he learned the Abbot had personally signed a doc.u.ment ordering Steven's immediate release.

7.

Admiral de Coligny As soon as he was released Steven made his way to the auberge to wait for the Doctor. The landlord, Antoine-Marc, although not pleased to see him, was curious to know how Steven had spent the night.

'Asleep,' was the only reply he received and Steven toyed with his goblet of red wine whilst watching the door.

But the first familiar face he saw was Nicholas Muss who came over and greeted him.

'No sign of your friend?' Muss asked and, while Antoine-Marc tried to eavesdrop, Steven told him everything that had happened since they last met.

'The so-called Abbot was the Doctor,' he concluded, 'or, if not, the spitting image of him and in that case why would I have been released?'

'Did you see him sign the doc.u.ment?' Muss asked.

'No, a guard came into the cell and told me I was free to go,' Steven replied.

'So you're waiting here for him,' Muss said, 'to have something similar happen again tonight if he doesn't show up?'

'I honestly don't know, I'm completely at a loss because I haven't the faintest idea of what's going on,' Steven admitted.

'Then come with me to Admiral de Coligny's house,'

Muss replied, 'at least, there you'll have a roof over your head.'

'But the Doctor?' Steven protested as Muss laid a hand on his shoulder.

'In one guise or another, I'm sure he'll turn up eventually,' Muss remarked enigmatically and paid for Steven's gla.s.s of wine as they left, leaving Antoine-Marc some more information for Simon Duval.

'There were no difficulties,' the Doctor told Lerans back in the cave, 'as the Abbot walked out of one door, I walked in by another, put his seal on Steven's release and gave it to a nervous, fat young man named Roger Colbert.'

Lerans laughed. 'You've made a good start, Doctor.'

'But where is Steven?' the Doctor asked.

'Safely tucked away at Admiral de Coligny's house,'

Lerans replied, 'and it's better that he knows nothing of your activities.'

'Why?' The Doctor was indignant.

'Because the fewer who know, the better.'

'These people know.' The Doctor gestured to the apothecaries and their families.

'And they will remain here until you are gone.'

'Then bring in Steven as well.'

'No, Doctor, we can't. Nicholas and I have discussed it.'

Lerans shrugged his regrets. 'Steven thinks you are the Abbot, and Duval believes the Abbot has been playing you.' He crossed his arms in front of him with his forefingers pointing in opposite directions, 'and that's a useful confusion to maintain.'

'Why?' the Doctor repeated irritably.

'Duval will soon learn where Steven is and will have him watched,' Lerans replied, 'but if Steven were to disappear completely, Duval's suspicions would be aroused.'

'And how long must this charade continue?' the Doctor snapped.

'Until the Abbot and Duval are toppled from power,'

Leran's tone was matter-of-fact.

'And when will that be?' the Doctor asked dryly.

'It depends on you, Doctor,' Lerans smiled, 'so shall we say, a week at the outside?'

The Doctor remembered the date. It was 20 August and in less than four days a ma.s.sacre would begin, one he knew he could not stop. He had extricated Steven from one prison only to have him put neatly into another, ensuring that he, the Doctor, would do as he was told. Wryly he conceded that Lerans and Muss were n.o.body's fools.

At first Duval was mystified when Roger told him about Steven's release. It seemed illogical that the Abbot would change his mind because he must have foreseen that the Huguenots would react as they had. And then he saw the master stroke. Both the wretched girl and the Abbot's faithful agent were now in the same house, de Coligny's. It was nothing short of genius. He would have liked to know how the Abbot had learned about the scullery maid but it didn't matter. He was proud to be in the service of the most subtle and devious Catholic politician in France so he allowed himself the luxury of a few idle thoughts on the eventual fate of Gaston, Viscount de Lerans who he knew was no match for the Abbot of Amboise. His reverie was broken by the summons to the Abbot's office.

'We are to attend upon Her Majesty and the King,' the Abbot announced after Duval had paid his respects. The Abbot insisted they took the Cardinal's carriage to the Louvre.

Steven was fretting about the Doctor so he went to Lerans'

office in the Admiral's house.

'Nicholas informs me that you are comfortably installed,' Lerans said, waving Steven towards a chair.

'I'd rather stand,' Steven replied and expressed his confusion and concern for the Doctor.

'Stop worrying, Steven, I can a.s.sure you the Abbot is not your friend,' Lerans replied.

'Then where is the Doctor?' Steven insisted.

'With the apothecary he went to see,' Lerans said.

'For twenty-four hours,' Steven replied in disbelief.

Lerans laughed. 'I know apothecaries and once you get them together, there's no stopping them,' he said. 'One of them raises a point and another one says we need Joseph's opinion on that and off someone goes to find him. They can go on for days.'

Steven knew that the Doctor's concept of time was different to anyone else's but the fact that he hadn't reappeared (or had he?) still troubled him.

'And an apothecary's wife is a special kind of lady,'

Lerans continued. 'They understand these gatherings and know when to offer them some refreshment or even a bed, if need be.'

'Hhmmm,' Steven said half-dubiously. There was a tap on the door.

'Come in,' Lerans said and Anne came into the room with a tray, a jug of wine and a goblet. 'We need another, Anne.'

She smiled at Steven, made a small curtsey, set the tray on the desk and left.

'You still take what she said seriously?' Steven asked.

'They've even been here to ask us to let them take her back,' Lerans replied. 'That much fuss over a kitchen maid? Yes, we take her seriously.'

'Then what do you suspect?'

'An a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on the life of my master, King Henri of Navarre,' Lerans replied, 'engineered by the Abbot of Amboise.'

'Oh,' Steven said reflectively.

'Now do you understand?' Lerans asked as Anne came back into the room with the second goblet.

'I think, perhaps, I'm beginning to,' Steven replied as Lerans poured some wine.

The Abbot of Amboise and Simon Duval entered the vast Council Chamber of the Louvre with its friezes, paintings, tapestries and brocaded curtains. At the far end of the room was a dais with two steps and covered by a superbly patterned carpet on which were two thrones and above them a silken canopy in scarlet and gold over. Her Majesty, Catherine, the Queen Mother, sat on one throne and His Majesty, King Charles IX, on the other. On the marble floor around the foot of the dais stood the Councillors and Duval's eyes quickly noted that both camps, Catholic and Huguenot were represented.

The Catholics were led by the King's younger brother, Duke Henri of Anjou, with Francois, Duke of Guise, the Duke of Nevers and Marshall Tavannes in attendance. For the Huguenots were King Henri of Navarre, the Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, Nicholas Muss and Viscount Gaston Lerans.

'My Lord Abbot.' Both the Queen Mother and the King murmured as he bowed over their outstretched hands.

'Your Majesties,' he replied and smiled thinly at both camps.

'Let us to business,' the King said and promptly had a fit of coughing which lasted for at least a minute, after which he wiped the flecks of blood from the corners of his mouth with a lace handkerchief. 'Wine, give us wine,' he croaked. A golden chalice was handed to him by a servant and he sipped from it. Then he leant back on his throne and closed his eyes.

'Rest, my son, rest,' the Queen Mother said and patted his hand. 'We shall deal with the affairs of state.' She paused and looked down at the faces around her. 'We shall hear first from our loyal Admiral of France.'

Gaspard de Coligny was a well-built man in his early fifties, a devoted servant of the crown and a fervent believer in a united France, regardless of religious inclinations. Although a Huguenot and lacking in a sense of humour, his genuine humility had kept him close to the royal family since. Charles became King at the age of ten and his influence over the Queen Mother was unequalled.

'Your Majesty, My Liege,' he began, glancing from Catherine to the open-mouthed young man who was still gasping for air. 'May I come back upon our allegiance to the Dutch, the Sea Beggars as they are called.'

'You always do, Admiral,' Marshall Tavannes interjected.