Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers Part 20

Dodo moved towards the door, hoping to find out what was going on. As she did so, she noticed for the first time that Lesia was moving. Her arms and legs were sweeping in gentle arcs beneath the heavy blankets.

'Thank goodness!' Dodo cried, running to her friend's bed.

She held her slender hand tightly. 'It's all right, Lesia. You're going to be OK.'

As she poured some cool, fresh water into a tankard, she saw the young woman's eyes flicker open.

Steven sat on the edge of the bed reflecting, as Dodo had done, on the change of atmosphere within the city. Kiev had rarely been a place of laughter and love, but now the mood had darkened still further. On their return journey to the governor's residence he had sensed an almost overwhelming sense of resignation; even Isaac seemed less than his usual cheerful self.

Given that only a few hours earlier the old man had been in very real danger of losing his life, it seemed more than likely that he was still suffering from shock.

Steven's thoughts were interrupted by a polite knock at the door.

'Is that you, Dodo?' He opened the door, and was surprised to see that it was Yevhen.

Paradoxically, the adviser looked less agitated than Steven had seen him look for some time; perhaps he was admitting to himself that he was out of ideas.

'I thought you should know,' said Yevhen. 'It is as we imagined: the Tartars on the hillside are scouts ahead of the main army.'

Steven nodded, remembering the Mongols' torches. 'I'm not surprised,' he said. 'At least they're not planning a surprise attack. How far behind do you think the main army is?'

'Less than a day's ride,' said Yevhen. 'The scouts seem happy to remain within sight. It seems they wish to observe and intimidate.'

'They've succeeded with the latter,' said Steven.

'We still have faith in our protector,' said Yevhen.

'Is that enough?' queried Steven.

Yevhen paused. 'Our people are frightened for their very lives,' he said. 'We do not want to die and I have done everything within my power to see that that does not happen.'

He took a few paces further into the room, as if appealing to Steven. 'But even if we die, do not think we have failed.'

'No?'

'People die of old age or worse with every day that pa.s.ses. It is the true nature of this fallen world. The people of G.o.d are not immune from death.' Yevhen paused for a moment.

'You do not believe in heaven, do you?' he queried directly.

'I.. I'm not sure. I have seen little evidence for it.'

'Until tonight, my own eyes had seen no evidence of the Tartars that threaten us. But now they are here!'

'So what are you saying?'

'We pa.s.s through this world in the twinkling of an eye on our way elsewhere. Even if our lives here are bitter and full of pain, this will soon be forgotten in the glorious eternity of paradise.'

Steven didn't know what to say, surprised by Yevhen's sudden calm. The Russian adviser's tone was almost defeatist; Steven wondered for a moment if he had misjudged the man.

'I wanted you to know,' said Yevhen, 'that whatever I have done in the past, the pain I have caused it has been with a greater purpose in mind.'

Steven might have responded sympathetically, had not he remembered the awful sound of the door into the catacombs being locked, and the beast's brutal attack on Olexander. He felt his heart hardening against Yevhen. 'You can't just explain away everything you've done,' he said. 'You have murdered, imprisoned, manipulated... Dmitri might be too occupied with the Mongol threat to see you for the man that you are, but I know only too well.'

Stung, Yevhen turned for the door. 'I only oppose those who oppose me.'

'Perhaps you should take the hint,' said Steven. 'That's just about everyone.'

Yevhen paused in the doorway. 'I meant what I said about your friend. Her generosity has touched me.'

'Get out!' shouted Steven.

His anger continued to burn long after the door had slammed shut.

They made camp in the moon's silvered light. The clouds that had seemed so prevalent since their arrival had for once lifted, but the unblemished starscape brought little cheer to the Doctor.

He turned to Abd N-Nun Ayyub, who stood, polishing his meal knife with a wetted cloth.

'I need to speak to Mongke,' said the Doctor. 'Urgently.'

'It will be difficult,' said Abd N-Nun Ayyub. 'He has much to prepare. Kiev is within sight.'

'Which is why I must speak with him.'

'You know he respects you as a man of knowledge. He is entertained by your tales.'

'If only I could come up with enough to distract him from the destruction of Kiev!' exclaimed the Doctor bitterly. 'But I suspect he would be bored with such fancies eventually, hmm?'

'I will see what the khan says,' said Abd N-Nun Ayyub. 'Just do not ask again that he spare the Russian city. Your presence here is tolerated, but is less than vital.'

The Doctor considered the Arab's warnings when, some time later, he found himself riding alongside Mongke as the khan inspected his resting army. 'Tomorrow is the great day, Doctor!'

Mongke exclaimed. 'Kiev will topple, like a horse caught by a concealed trap. Its legs will break, and it will be good only for carrion!'

'Kiev is a mother,' said the Doctor, adopting the Mongol's fanciful language. 'In beauty, in poise, in strength, it is more than a match for any stallion you have ever seen. She carries in her belly the hopes and fears of an entire nation.'

'No Mongol would ever kill a horse still carrying its young,'

said Mongke. 'And I have indeed heard this city called the mother of Russian cities. Do you suggest to me that I capture it undamaged?'

'I make no suggestion to the khan,' said the Doctor. 'As you know, I tell stories and riddles. It is not for me to prescribe their meaning.'

Mongke laughed. 'Well said, old man! Well said.' He paused for a moment, patting the neck of his horse as if it, too, had contributed to the conversation. 'Of course, we Mongols are the wrath of the Creator, the bringers of Apocalypse. However, we would like to conquer without unnecessary fighting. There are always more battles to be fought, no? Why tire oneself without good cause!'

'I have heard your soldiers talk of a spy within Kiev.'

'An emissary exists,' said Mongke. 'Invited there by the men of G.o.d. We have not had a report for some time. I think I shall send Abd N-Nun Ayyub to the city ahead of us. He is a man of great learning and wisdom, much like yourself. They will trust him, no? It will be as if I send my own son and then, perhaps, they will meekly surrender, and we can be on our way!'

'Let us hope the light will shine on Abd N-Nun Ayyub's endeavours.'

'We shall see, old man.'

With that, Mongke cracked his reins hard, and his horse galloped towards the front of the army. The audience was at an end.

Yevhen slept.

Yevhen slept, and dreamed.

He dreamed of hillsides in spring, of skies without cloud, of people dressed in clothes so fine they could not be bought. He saw a city of gold and silver, with towers and minarets that scratched the very underbelly of heaven.

But this was heaven, and it was in his heart. It was in human form at his side his true love, long dead, now radiant with the breath of life. Her slender fingers caressed his cheek, her lips grazed against his ears whispering songs and poems that stirred his soul.

They were naked on the hillside he saw that now and her body was pressed down on his. They were naked, and without shame. Her legs were tight against his own, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s flat against his chest.

Her mouth hovered over his.

The sky darkened, and everything changed. For the first time Yevhen felt fear. Over his lover's shoulders he could see storm clouds gathering.

Lightning sparkled in the sudden shadows and the woman's lips, once red, became as black as midnight blood.

Yevhen screamed and, as he did so, he became aware of a different environment, a more mundane one. His temporary quarters in darkness, his sheets in disarray oh, the shamelessness of his thoughts! and something... someone...

pressing down on him.

Unblemished skin, smooth and strong, holding him down but the eyes glowed like a cat's caught in torchlight.

Yevhen screamed again. He heard the clatter of soldiers' feet in the corridor, then felt the nightmarish attacker ease its grip. It slithered from the bed, the door crashed open and he was alone again with his guilt and confusion.

Dmitri was poring over the plans of the city defences when a light knock at the door disturbed his thoughts.

'Who is it?' he asked.

'Lesia.'

'Lesia? Come in, come in.' Dmitri looked up. Indeed it was Yevhen's daughter, looking tired and drained but evidently better than before. Her dark, unbrushed hair fell around her neck and chest; he couldn't help but notice that her nightshirt had fallen away from one shoulder. Yevhen's girl was very much a woman now; Dmitri returned his attention to the maps.

'You are better, then?'

'Yes.' He felt, rather than saw, her come alongside him.

'I am glad. As your father must be. Now, if you would excuse me...'

'Yevhen is full of bitterness,' said Lesia in a strange singsong voice. Dmitri thought it odd that she referred to her father by name, and wondered if she was still suffering from whatever catatonia had earlier seized her.

'Well,' he said, wondering what to say. 'Your father has many excellent qualities.'

'He has not forgiven his wife for dying in childbirth. He blames his daughter.'

'But still he loves you.'

'Love?' Lesia rested a gentle hand on Dmitri's shoulder.

There was a commotion outside and, embarra.s.sed by Lesia's behaviour, Dmitri shrugged away from her touch. 'What is that noise?' he asked.

'Yevhen thinks he has been attacked by a succubus. The guards are searching for the beast.' Lesia's hand rested again on Dmitri, more heavily this time. 'They should search more diligently.'

Dmitri turned, and saw that Lesia's eyes glowed like hot coals.

'Lesia...'

Her lips nuzzled the governor's neck, then Dmitri tensed as he felt teeth on his skin.

His terrified screams laced the night air with a deeper madness.

XVII.

Insania My sleep was only dimly interrupted by disturbances from the corridors. I remember cries for help and the stamp of soldiers'

boots: although I was very tired, and no one hammered on my door, I did investigate once or twice but by the time I pulled my door open there was no one there.

Soon after daybreak, however, I was summoned to the great debating chamber. Dmitri asked me to join him and his advisers at the head of the table. I was shocked to see that his face and neck were swollen and b.l.o.o.d.y.

'You are late,' he said with unusual bluntness.

'I came as fast as I could.'

Dmitri became aware of my interest in his wounds. 'I was attacked,' he said by way of explanation. 'This creature still roams the corridors. It attacked your friend, and seems to have taken Yevhen's daughter from us.'

'Is Dodo all right?' I asked.

'A b.u.mp to the head, nothing more,' said Isaac.

'Why was I not told?'