Doctor Who_ Battlefield Part 21

'Thanks, Professor.'

There was a blurt of sound as the Brigadier's radio came alive. 'Husak to Greyhound One. The Seabirds are still operational. I repeat, the Seabirds are still operational!'

Morgaine stood at the heart of the octogrammaton, a web of power surrounding her. At her feet, enfolded in her cloak, sat her son. The crystal sphere, window across the worlds, hovered before them in the dark air of the old priory. Images flickered within its shape.

'The Knight Commander has failed,' said Mordred.

'Be not so harsh in your judgements, my son. This is Merlin.'

'But he has Excalibur.'

'Patience,' whispered the Queen. 'We have forestalled Arthur's arising. Now we shall use more subtle arts against his fool conjuror.'

The grimoires and books of lore that she had studied since she was a novice spoke of the spirits that dwelt all around them. As her knowledge grew with her power, she learned to bind the spirits to her will. The trees and the waters. The fair and foul fiends that went by the names of their tasks: the Lightning, Winds and Mists; the Menders and the Healers; the Destroyer.

Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart spread the map across the coffee table and pointed to the road leading from the lake.

'Husak found the car here. They'd obviously abandoned it, because he found Bambera's beret further into the woods.'

'Well, at least they're alive,' said the Doctor.

'Yes, but Husak reckoned they were heading back to the lake.'

'Towards the missile convoy?'

'That's where Bambera's unit is.'

The Doctor squinted at the map again. 'But if they lead Morgaine's troops there...'

'It's a fully armed nuclear missile,' said the Brigadier.

'Don't you have procedures for situations like this?' the Doctor snapped.

'The unit's already on a Broken Arrow alert.'

'Oh, very rea.s.suring.'

'I gather the next scenario is known as Bent Spear. I'll have to check procedures.'

The Doctor finally lost his temper. 'If there's an accident, Brigadier... We have to stop any engagement. Is there a helicopter available?'

To the Doctor's annoyance, the Brigadier smiled knowingly and said, 'Much better than that, Doctor.'

He walked smartly out of the lounge and through the hotel hall into the open air.

The Doctor followed and was brought up in his tracks by the familiar object that sat in the centre of the otherwise deserted car park.

'Bessie!' he exclaimed in astonished delight.

Ace and Shou Yuing were already staring at the bright yellow, open-top, antique roadster.

The Doctor sauntered around his old car, beaming with pleasure as he checked for rust and scratches.

'I knew how fond you were of it,' called the Brigadier, 'so when you last went off on your... "travels", I had it put in mothb.a.l.l.s.'

'Does it run on petrol or steam?' teased Ace.

The Doctor climbed into the driving seat and refamiliarized himself with the deceptively veteran controls that he had once souped up so lovingly.

'For that,' he said to Ace, 'you can stay here. Coming, Brigadier?'

'Oh. Professor!'

'Too bad, Ace. Besides which, things may get dangerous.' He held up something stubby and white and pencil shaped. 'I want you to have this.'

'It looks like a piece of chalk,' she said.

'It is.' He dabbed her on the nose with it. 'I got it from the dartboard. It'll protect you from Morgaine's sorcery.'

'A piece of chalk?'

He suddenly looked gravely serious. 'At the first sign of anything strange, draw a chalk circle. As perfect as you can make it.'

'What, like in Dennis Wheatley?'

'I expect so. Then you and Shou Yuing stand inside with Excalibur and the scabbard.'

'Right, Professor.'

'Trust me, Ace,' he said.

'I do.'

'Good. And whatever happens, neither of you step outside that circle until I return.'

Shou Yuing barely managed to stifle a grin until she saw that Ace was as serious as the Doctor.

There was a twitter of energy as the Doctor clamped a small device over the hub of the steering wheel. He turned a lever on the top between his fingers. 'Running up to speed,' he said. 'Ready, Brigadier? Just pray we're not too late.'

The engine whined in an ascending scale. Strapped into the pa.s.senger seat, Lethbridge-Stewart tensed himself as if preparing for blast-off.

Ace nudged Shou Yuing. 'Nought to sixty in twenty minutes!'

'As fast as that?' said her friend.

'Appearances are very deceiving,' smiled the Doctor.

'Don't lose Excalibur and stay in the circle!'

There was an explosion of sound. Bessie vanished behind a cloud of white steam and smoke. Staggering back, Ace caught a flash of yellow from far down the drive.

The Doctor's hat tumbled out of the smoke and landed at her feet. Where Bessie had stood, there were two burning skid marks in the gravel.

'Gordon Bennett!' suggested Ace.

Shou Yuing giggled with amazement. 'Wicked!' she said.

Chapter 6.

The two men-at-arms moved silently through the woods.

The scent had gone cold. The quarry was lying low. They edged slowly forward fearing an attack.

With a blood-curdling scream Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai, flaxen hair flying, burst from the thicket and fell upon them. He caught and despatched both the soldiers with one whirling slice of his sword.

'Ancelyn!' hissed Bambera as she dashed after him.

'Can't you do anything quietly? You'll have Morgaine's whole army down on us.'

Like hers, his clothes were blackened by smoke and singed by fire. 'Let them come.' he cried. 'Do you not know, I am the best knight in the world!'

Ancelyn's blood was up for the fight. h.e.l.l's beard, but the warrior maid had spirit too. She had pulled him from the wreck of the car and covered their escape from Morgaine's troops with her gun. She was a different breed from the wan damosels who simpered in the households at home, embroidering their dainty graph-tapestries or mooning over some idyllic romance.

Yet Ancelyn had seen many a l.u.s.ty knight sink into a pool of lovesick moping for such pale hearthkeepers.

Lohengrin Cygnblen had fallen to Ilza of Brabann; Arveragus of Bretonesse forsook the field of combat to write poetry all day to the Lady Dorigen of Lyonce; worst of all, Ancelyn's comrade at arms, the gallant Tristremon, his rival in the lists, was suddenly seen sporting the favours of Ancelyn's own sister, that auburn-haired glacier Ysoldar.

Ancelyn had seen him lurking spaniel-eyed beneath her oriel at midnight, and caught him picking a nosegay from the hydropothecary's physic garden.

Ancelyn shrugged off such courtly nonsense and devoted his time to training for the battle that he was destined to fight. He still maintained his armour himself and cleaned the barrel of his own gun. He would not be unmanned by any castlebound maiden.

Yet strangest to tell, he would be content to do no more than watch the movement of Winifred's eyelashes across her pool-dark eyes. No more than that.

'Ancelyn?' said Bambera.

'Yes, my lady,' he replied in a reverie.

'On this world we have a great and honourable tradition of tactical withdrawing.'

He suddenly heard the shouts of the hunters closing on their quarry. 'You wish to run?' he asked. 'There can be but thirty of them.'

Bambera grabbed at his jerkin and pulled him close.

'Ancelyn, if you don't start moving, I'll kill you myself!'

She grasped his hand and started to run. 'Now come on!'

He ran downhill with her, not too swiftly, to allow her the illusion that she was leading him. 'Winifred?' he shouted.

'What?'

Behind them, the shouts of the hunters grew fiercer.

'Art thou betrothed?'

She cursed. 'Not now, Ancelyn!' But her grip on his hand grew tighter.

Through the trees, they saw the glint of water. The convoy was closer than they had thought. Bambera let go of Ancelyn's hand.

Guards shouted as they emerged from the trees.

Zbrigniev threw down the foam cup of tea he was holding.

They started to run. 'Get down,' yelled Bambera. 'Get under cover!'

Behind them, the woodland exploded in flame.

In the weightless crystal sphere, patterns of light were refracted through s.p.a.ce by spells of revelation. In their focus, they showed a yellow carriage that sped along a sunlit trackway.

'You fool, Merlin,' muttered Morgaine, 'to place such a trust with children.'

The patterns within the sphere shifted and revealed the room of the hostelry where she had found Mordred. The two girls were there, and with them, like a beacon in Morgaine's mind, was the sword Excalibur.

'I swear that you shall rue this day...' She stepped from the octogrammaton and threw up her arms in a gesture of power.... if you live!'

She was alone. She had sent away her son with specific instructions. He had gone, eager to please, eager for a final meeting with his sworn enemy, the traitor Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai.

She took only moments to prepare herself, to quieten and concentrate her mind. Steeped in the study of lore, the conjuring of spirits came as easily to her as breathing.

As was her custom, she had partaken of no food or water for that only weakened her as the vessel through which her magic must flow.

In a normal summoning, she no longer needed the complex rituals that other magicians relied upon, but there were still spirits in the darkness that even she must fight to control: the manifestations of total power in essence. Such demons must be bound close to obey their summoners'

will. They cheated and lied in their struggle for release.