Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers Part 9

The Doctor looked around. 'Though I am impatient to get started, I wonder why we must leave when it is dark. Surely we would make better progress by day?'

'We have no idea how far advanced the Tartar scouts are.

Better that you leave now.'

'And get as far as we can before we are spotted?' The Doctor paused. 'Yes, yes... I suppose that makes sense.'

Dmitri turned as Mykola approached. The soldier had swapped his chain mail for a lighter and partial armour of leather. The Doctor noted, with interest, the cut that still bled just above his ear however Steven had escaped, Mykola would be mindful of what had happened for some time to come.

'The good wishes of our city go with you, Mykola,' said Dmitri.

The soldier seemed less than enamoured by the prospect of the expedition, though he managed a curt nod of respect.

With a last glance at the Doctor, Dmitri strode back towards his home.

Mykola began giving orders to the men, preparing them for the ordeal that lay before them. The Doctor patted the graceful neck of his mount, a chestnut-brown stallion, and watched the soldier closely. He sensed a crushed resignation about him Whatever Mykola's role in the arrest of Steven, and whatever had happened since, it seemed unlikely that it had been entirely of his own doing.

Mykola turned to the Doctor.

'I am concerned that the expedition will be arduous.You are old and slow, and many dangers lurk in the forests.'

The Doctor was indignant. 'Old? My boy, you don't know the meaning of the word! In any case, I am quite capable of looking after myself. How do you think I have lived for so long, hmm?' The Doctor made a show of leading his horse towards the city gates. 'Shall we proceed?'

Dodo and Lesia returned to the governor's residence to find Yevhen waiting for them. He was pacing his daughter's room, arms behind his back, boiling with anger. It was like being caught creeping home after a late party, but when Dodo saw the flames that flickered behind Yevhen's eyes, and remembered their situation, her stomach began to churn with fear.

Yevhen fixed his eyes on Lesia. 'Daughter,' he said. 'Thank you for joining us once more.'

'Father, I only wanted to take in the twilight air. I meant '

'You meant me to look a fool!' interrupted Yevhen. 'The governor has ordered that all of us stay here, where we are safe. I do not like this decision of his, but I am a man of authority, and I live under authority. I respect that decision. And yet I find that you do not!'

'We didn't do anything,' offered Dodo. 'But this place is so claustrophobic! We're sick of having soldiers trailing round after us all the time.'

'They are to keep you safe!' exploded Yevhen. 'Do you have any idea of the dangers we all face?'

'Yes, I do,' said Dodo forcefully, 'and it's terrible. But allowing your daughter a little freedom isn't going to hurt anyone.'

'Silence!' bellowed Yevhen, raising a hand as if to strike Dodo. 'I have heard of the "freedom" you espouse a debauched freedom where womenfolk do and dress as they please.'

'What's so wrong with that?'

'You forget that women are under G.o.d's curse. All know that man is n.o.bler than woman, and of greater virtue.' Yevhen stared at Lesia, grinding his teeth in fury. 'Better to have a single good son than a hundred s.l.u.ts as daughters!'

At this, Lesia collapsed on to her bed in tears. Yevhen went over to her, his face red.

'Do not think I am deaf to the rumours that you've been spreading your legs for some boy!'

'It is not true,' said Lesia limply. 'Father. . don't say anything else. You have been drinking.'

'If I ever find out who he is I will tear him to pieces with my bare hands!'

'Oi!' said Dodo, tapping Yevhen on the shoulder to get his attention. 'Cut it out!'

Yevhen swung around wildly, arms flailing. 'Don't touch me, you little wh.o.r.e!'

'Don't you dare call me that!' shouted Dodo, with equal pa.s.sion.

A silent moment pa.s.sed as Dodo heldYevhen's gaze, her fists balled as if preparing for a fight.

Yevhen glanced away.

'Now, I didn't really pay much attention to scripture cla.s.ses in school,' said Dodo in a quieter voice, staring levelly back at Yevhen. 'But I do remember that after all the animals were made, this G.o.d bloke you claim to believe in created men, and then he created women. So, if there's a pinnacle of creation, it ain't you lot!'

Yevhen recoiled as if physically struck. 'How dare you!'

Dodo sensed she was in the ascendancy. 'Now get out, and leave your daughter alone, or I will scream so loudly, and tell such stories, that even that bishop of yours will have to act.'

Yevhen glanced back at his daughter, then turned on the spot and marched towards the door without another word.

As the door slammed shut, Lesia began to cry again.

The Doctor's party made swift progress along the plains, the well-bred horses keeping to a dignified half-gallop. Wherever possible the group sought partial sanctuary at the edges of the woods that pockmarked the terrain. Under the great branches of the ancient conifers it was blacker than midnight ink, though the lanterns and torches danced like fireflies in the bitter autumn air.

But none of the men grumbled, for they hoped the trees offered some respite from watching, devilish eyes. It was only when there was no cover at all, and they were forced to proceed through the exposed gra.s.slands, that a true sense of awful expectation gripped them.

The Doctor, his body aching with every movement of the horse beneath him, had long since lost track of time. He concentrated instead on the simple practicalities of remaining as comfortable as possible in the unyielding saddle, his ears and eyes alert to the slightest hint of the Mongols. All the while his mind roamed freely elsewhere, turning over fragments, attempting to make a pattern from the puzzle pieces.

The discovery of Taras's corpse had unsettled him even more than he had let on. He was worried for his friends and for the people of Kiev, as the one action of the creature responsible for the builder's death had been to kill rather than strive for communication. Worse still, such a being would not have turned up out of the blue, but must have come in some sort of craft.

Even one salvaged weapon, one jury-rigged bomb, could change the course of human history.

The Mongols had already carved out an enormous empire, built in no small part on the expertise and invention of the lands and races they had conquered. The Chin dynasty had provided them with gunpowder, the most advanced weapon the Earth had yet seen, and the Mongol hordes had proved more than adept at finding new ways to exploit the resource. If they were to find themselves in the position to exploit a truly advanced technology, the consequences would be unthinkable.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mykola's order to slow the pace a little. Some of the horses were tiring, and the young captain had every reason to believe the Mongol army was still a distance away.

The Doctor turned to him. 'I imagine you're glad to leave the governor in such safe hands.'

'What do you mean?'

'His advisers, Isaac and... What is the other fellow's name?'

'Yevhen.'

'Yevhen.Yes, that's right. That's right. Do you know him?'

Mykola shook his head, plainly irritated by the Doctor's whispered conversation.

'Well, he seems perfectly capable. If I have a concern, however, it is that Yevhen is quite prepared to do things his way.

Bend the rules, the law, if necessary.'

'I know nothing of the work of the advisers.' Mykola paused.

'I do what I am asked.'

'As indeed we all must,' said the Doctor with a smile, furiously trying to build a bridge of understanding with the man.

'Yes, yes. But if different people ask us different things...' 'Then we must decide which voice to listen to.'

'But that can be difficult...'

Mykola shook his head. 'I listen to G.o.d, G.o.d's people on Earth, the authorities He has placed here... Only then do I listen to the voices of men.'

'But what if the authorities are mistaken, hmm?' The Doctor paused. 'An adviser like Yevhen is no less likely to make an error of judgement than anyone else. These are difficult times. We all might be called upon to perform actions we would rather not perform.'

'Perhaps.' Mykola edged his horse away from the Doctor's.

'But then our consciences must remain strong and hearty. As is mine.' He paused. 'You are asking who told me to lie about Steven, no?'

'Well, I...' mumbled the Doctor.

'I cannot tell you, but rest a.s.sured, it was not adviser Yevhen.'

Whatever the Doctor was about to say next was lost to the cloudless sky as a great cry went up over the plains. Man and horse becaine tense; the Doctor felt his blood run cold.

There was a blissful moment of silence, then the wolves began howling again.

There was a m.u.f.fled thump at the front door of the governor's residence. The guards, roused from their slumber, looked round in surprise, then guffawed loudly at their ridiculous reaction.

Should the Mongols attack, it would doubtless not be prefaced with so polite a sound.

There was another sound, this time a much more precise tap.

One of the soldiers pulled open the wooden door. A dark, cloaked figure stood framed against the pitch-black of the street beyond.

'Who is there?' called one of the soldiers, hefting a c.u.mbersome poleaxe in both hands.

The figure stepped forward, and pulled back its cloak.

'It is Taras's widow,' whispered an old soldier to a less knowledgeable companion. He stepped forward, half-bowing in respect. 'We have heard of the death of your husband, he said.

'It is a terrible tragedy.'

The woman nodded mutely, her eyes darting from side to side as she took in the chamber, its racks of weapons, its rough mats for sleeping, the small pot of food that bubbled over a dying flame.

'You should go home, Elisabet,' the man continued. 'The kitchen will survive without you... especially when it is so late.'

'There is much to prepare,' said the woman, her voice made husky by grief.

'I am sure. But you need to rest, to grieve.'

The woman turned to the old soldier, touched him lightly on the shoulder, on his cheek. 'You will let me in?'

'Of course, of course,' said the man, blus.h.i.+ng furiously. 'Let her through, boys.'

The woman pulled the cloak back over her head, and disappeared into the corridor of shadow beyond.

Immediately the younger guards began to laugh. 'I have heard it said that a widow's bed is warmer than a wh.o.r.e's,'

sn.i.g.g.e.red one.

'Quiet!' snapped the older man. 'We should offer to light the way for her the corridors are dark.'

But the woman was nowhere to be seen.

'We will make camp,' announced Mykola as the exhausted party found sanctuary once more on the edge of a wood of black-green trees. 'We will be safe here.'

'Are you sure?' queried the Doctor. 'The wolves.. '

'The wolves will not attack unless we are sick and they are hungry,' said Mykola. 'The horses, and an hourly watch, will be enough to alert us.'

One of the soldiers helped the Doctor down from his horse.

He was, truth be told, more than grateful to be out of the saddle, although he was not sure how well he would sleep in these circ.u.mstances.

He watched as the men arranged the animals in a defensive circle, with the supplies and bedding in the centre. Torches were swiftly extinguished; little more was said as the men laid down to sleep.

'I shall take the first hour,' said Mykola.

The Doctor examined his expression closely, striving to read signs of duplicity in his eyes. But the man quickly looked away.

The Doctor tried to put aside his worried thoughts but, as the silence of the plains enveloped them, he could not help but watch Mykola through half-shut eyes.

Isaac looked up suddenly as the door creaked open.

'Father, you should be more discreet.'

Isaac let out a sigh of relief. 'And you should knock before you enter.'

Nahum closed the door behind him, and approached his father. The old man's desk was covered with papers, parchments and leather-bound volumes; his fingers were black with ink.