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As we emerged we saw a group of soldiers barking orders to civilians who were carrying what looked like urns of water. 'It's a bit late for that,' I commented in frustration as another plume of fire flashed out of the building.
'Your bravery is to be commended, Steven,' said Dmitri some hours later. We sat, as we had earlier in the day, in the debating chamber, a sanctuary of calm in a world gone mad.
'Is Isaac all right?' I asked.
'He coughs and splutters... but that is all.'
'Smoke inhalation,' I said.
Dmitri smiled indulgently. He didn't, of course, know what I meant, but he a.s.sumed I was right in what I said. 'The fire is now almost out,' he continued. 'That side of the building is not safe. Other rooms are now being prepared.'
'What started the fire?' I queried.
'It was no accident,' Dmitri said by way of an answer. He turned, barking orders at one of the guards who stood at the doors to the chamber, and moments later two soldiers stepped into the room, dragging one of their fellows between them.
Dmitri was immediately on his feet. 'We found this creature trying to set alight the room which contains your blue box,' he said. 'He has admitted to starting the fire in Isaac's rooms.' He stared down at the soldier a wretched figure, almost limp with fear and did not attempt to disguise the anger and disappointment in his voice. 'What have you done?' he asked. 'I beg forgiveness,' said the soldier, bowing his head and holding up his hands in terror. 'I was instructed '
'Instructed?' snapped Dmitri. 'You owe no allegiance to anyone other than me!'
'The Church...' stammered the man. 'The Church is also to be obeyed...'
'Not when it commands such acts of brutal vandalism!' said Dmitri. He paused, lowering his voice a little. 'Tell me exactly what happened.'
'The Jew... He was translating the Word of G.o.d into Russian. He and Olexander had been working together.'
'Even if that were true, what business is it of yours?'
'All men of G.o.d must follow the teaching of the Church '
'You call these fiends men of G.o.d? They have been striving to make pacts with the dog-faced Tartars!'
I saw the soldier cower before Dmitri, genuine shock registering on his face. 'My lord, I did not know '
'Now you do.'
'You meant to kill Isaac and burn his papers,' I said when the soldier glanced in my direction. 'But why attack the TARDIS?'
'I was told that Bishop Vasil was intrigued by your box,' the man explained. 'He wanted it for himself, but had been thwarted.
I was ordered to set fire to it in the hope that the flames would liberate its secrets.'
'Bishop Vasil is a coward,' spat Dmitri. 'He has gone into hiding, or fled. If ever I see his face again...' His words trailed away, leaving the threat implied. 'Take this man from my sight,'
he ordered, turning away in disgust. 'I shall decide his fate later.'
As the soldiers dragged the guilty man to his feet there was a commotion at the far end of the room. Another guard burst through the doorway, shouting wildly.
'My lord! My lord!' he cried and for a moment I had to wonder if he was addressing his earthly master in excitement or his spiritual one in anguish.
'What is it?' asked Dmitri.
'We have found the Tartar spy.'
They had discovered the man in a small ecclesiastical building on the edge of the city. Although the soldier went on to report that they still had not located the disgraced Bishop Vasil, these words were lost on Dmitri. I tried to think, for a moment, what finding the spy meant for him, and for his people. They had seen few, if any, non-white faces before; still less a representative of a race that, if the legends were to be believed, was terrifyingly subhuman. This Mongolian man would seem utterly alien to them.
Dmitri immediately set out to question the Mongol, asking that I come with him, and ordered that his advisers even poor Isaac join him immediately. In fact, the old man was waiting for us at the front of the building. I was not surprised to find him looking pale and tired, but the thought of meeting a 'Tartar'
in the flesh seemed enough to reinvigorate him temporarily.
Our entourage strode quickly through the streets, but we managed some conversation along the way. Isaac thanked me again for his rescue. I stated that a brave soldier of Kiev had followed me unwittingly attempting to undo the damage caused by his weak-willed companion and that my escape from the labyrinth of tunnels between the cathedral and the governor's residence had given me the knowledge to approach the room in relative safety. But Isaac would not countenance my modesty. 'My family will be for ever in your debt,' he said.
'When... all this... is over, I shall recommend you for the highest badge of honour that Kiev can impart.'
Dmitri raised an eyebrow clearly he could not even begin to think of a future beyond the Mongol attack but said nothing.
'My lord, do the patrols continue in search of the creature?'
Isaac asked of Dmitri.
Dmitri nodded. 'The more so, now we know full well that the people of our city can be just as monstrous as any beast.' He had ordered the house arrest of all the bishops and officers of the Church, having concluded that none could be trusted.
Contact with the outside had long since been curtailed; if the religious folk of Kiev wanted any contact with G.o.d, they would have to do the hard work themselves. 'The soldier who betrayed us spoke of a translation, Isaac. The Holy Bible into the vernacular. Is this true?'
I saw Isaac pale, but he did not miss a beat as he walked.
'What interest have I in the New Testament?' he asked rhetorically.
'I asked myself the same question. But there is the small matter of the Old.'
Isaac did not answer at first, and I imagined his sharp mind striving for some form of words, some phrase, that would deliver him from Dmitri's gentle questioning.
'Answer me plain, Isaac,' said Dmitri. 'I have no interest in the squabbles of the faiths but I need to know why the established church is opposed to you.'
'My lord... The Torah, the wisdom books, the prophets they deserve a wide readership.'
'The First Testament of G.o.d's message to mankind,' said Dmitri with a curt nod. 'You are treading on dangerous ground, my friend. Whatever our disagreements about the Lord, you must recognise that all biblical books are, in our land, also the stuff of politics.'
'Of course they are political!' exclaimed Isaac. 'But not in the way the Church would have it!'
'For what it is worth, I agree with you,' said Dmitri. 'But the Church is a powerful enemy perhaps even I am guilty of overstepping the mark.'
Isaac was about to reply when we all noticed adviser Yevhen standing a little way in front of us, with a retinue of city guards.
'I suspect one man of a most awful betrayal,' Isaac whispered under his breath.
'My lord, I can scarce believe the news,' Yevhen exclaimed as we approached. 'A Tartar, in our midst!' As he spoke, he glanced at Isaac and me irritated, no doubt, by my ongoing liberty and the old man's very existence.
'I didn't see you during the fire,' I said, before the governor could speak. 'I am pleased that you're safe.'
'I have been with my daughter,' Yevhen explained. 'What father would not apportion his time so?'
'Is there any change in her condition?' asked Dmitri.
Yevhen shook his head. 'I am afraid not.' He turned to me, and I thought I saw his features soften. 'Your friend, Dodo, is proving an excellent and diligent nurse. Her affection for Lesia has touched me.'
I didn't know what to say, but was saved from making any response by Dmitri's impatient query. 'This building contains the Tartar?'
'Indeed, my lord,' said Yevhen. 'Let us go in.'
After all the build-up, our first contact with the Mongol Empire was something of a disappointment to me, at least.
Within the building a poor family's dwelling that smelt of the animals that slept there stood a small, brown-skinned man. A dark moustache drooped under his nose, giving him an almost comical air, but his eyes were bright with intelligence and determination. His robes were simple and brown almost monk-like but I recognised the ta.s.sels at their lower edge. I confirmed to the others that this was the man I had seen under ecclesiastical escort.
'I am Dmitri, appointed by Prince Michael as the one governor of Kiev. I greet you with respect and, I hope, in peace.'
The small man nodded politely, but said nothing.
'May we talk as representatives of our people?' asked Dmitri.
The Mongol again gave no verbal response.
Dmitri turned to his advisers. 'Does he speak?'
'Let us a.s.sume that he did with the bishops,' said Isaac, 'but chooses not to do so now.'
'You will be kept well and in safety,' said Dmitri. 'I hope that, soon, we will talk. I do not wish to use force against you.'
I was reminded of his polite intransigence when the Doctor had been here, but wondered how long his dignified refusal to use violence would last.
'Bring him back with us,' Dmitri ordered, turning for the door.
When we emerged the twilight had become the soulless dark of night. Torches were lit, casting fingers of light and dark against the city walls. I saw the soldiers on the battlements huddling around a sort of brazier. The autumn nights were bitter.
As I glanced up I noticed them becoming agitated, lighting lanterns and calling to their fellows further along the wall. Soon they were shouting, one even going as far as to put a cow horn to his lips to blow a shrill note of alarm.
'What is going on?' cried Yevhen.
Within moments, we could hear the soldiers' exclamations for ourselves.
'Torches, on the hillside!' cried one.
A pause, and then: 'The Tartars! They are here!'
XVI.
Somnus ex sanitas Reloading archive 76-FG-92-SD...
Complete.
Resume archive 76-FG-92-SD...
Initial summary: Access to target BDR-997-XRF is still blocked. Other strategies are being formulated. formulated.
The hospital has the stench of a charnel house. Antiseptic-suited figures run from one operating theatre to another, striving to save lives or reuse the dead; their footsteps form the constant beat against which all other activities are monitored. Drills whine in distant rooms; the injured groan in nearby beds.
The spy feigns unconsciousness. Eyes closed in a parody of sleep, it listens to the innuendo and gossip of the medical staff, and pieces together plans and counterattacks best left unspoken.
Occasional hands roll the spy on to its side, or reattach it to the sedative. The drug must be filtered out of its blood stream, a process that requires concentration. Usually, however, the spy is left alone.
A day pa.s.ses, every nonvisual sense straining for nuance and information. As expected, the spy's target is due to inspect the wards, a feeble exercise in morale-building amongst the dead and the d.a.m.ned, the impure and the unclean. A hush falls over the rooms as he approaches, mouthing tired soliloquies of victory and perseverance.
Curtains are pulled back. The target approaches, places a comforting hand on the spy's chest. Optimum times are calculated and recalculated.
And then the spy attacks.
There is a flurry of activity, cries of alarm and calls for help.
But by the time the first weapon is used, the spy has fled for the corridors, leaving madness and guilt in its wake.
The mission is almost over.
Result of action: Target BDR-997-XRF attacked and compromised. Dome compromised.
Mission success index: 98.7%.
After the fire and the other terrible events of the day, sweet silence gripped the governor's residence and the city beyond its walls. Dodo was in Lesia's room with another pitcher of water but, having seen no change in her friend's condition, was drifting off to sleep.
Suddenly the city was alive.
Dodo snapped into wakefulness in a moment. The oppressive fear that gripped the people was as palpable as a coming storm. She ran to the window.
She could see little through the translucent horn strips, but could hear the cries of confusion and alarm well enough. The streets rang with booted feet; women sobbed and cried in shrill hysteria.