Doctor Who_ The Massacre Part 5

'I saw him with my own eyes,' the driver, a small middle-aged man, protested. 'He went into Notre Dame for Vespers.'

All eyes turned to the Doctor as he jumped to his feet.

' Who Who went into the Cathedral for Vespers?' he demanded in his most authoritative voice. went into the Cathedral for Vespers?' he demanded in his most authoritative voice.

'You did, but apparently you didn't, Doctor,' Preslin replied lamely.

'I have insisted throughout this ordeal,' the Doctor paused for dramatic effect, 'that I am not the person you presume me to be.'

Preslin looked embarra.s.sed and then began to chuckle.

'Forgive us, Doctor,' he said, 'but it would seem that you bear an uncanny resemblance to our mortal enemy, the Abbot of Amboise.'

'I was convinced you were he, sir,' admitted Charles.

'Forgive me.'

'And I also knew I'd seen your face before,' David conceded.

The Doctor looked around the silent room and his eyes began to twinkle. 'No harm's been done, gentlemen, other than the fact that I am a little late for my rendezvous. But if someone would kindly escort me up to the streets and fetch me a carriage, I'll take my leave of you.'

'That's impossible, Doctor,' Preslin said.

'Why so, Preslin?' The Doctor was indignant once again.

'There is a curfew until dawn,' Preslin replied, 'and no one may go abroad.'

'Not even your Abbot of Amboise's apparent double?'

the Doctor snapped.

Preslin shook his head and explained that the Catholic militia roamed the streets by night and he would not want to place the Doctor's safety in jeopardy. 'You may continue your journey tomorrow morning,' he added and then smiled. 'My colleagues and I will spend the night discussing our work with you, if you wish.'

'Hmm,' the Doctor replied and, deciding that Steven could take care of himself, agreed. Preslin called for food and wine and the apothecaries sat down around the table with the Doctor.

But the Doctor failed to notice the bearded, red-headed man named Charles draw the driver to one side and whisper in his ear. The driver nodded, clambered into the dog cart and drove off into the tunnels.

After Vespers Simon Duval had returned to his quarters in the Cardinal's palace and changed into his best finery for the banquet at the Louvre in the Abbot's honour.

Catherine de Medici, the Queen Mother and the young King Charles IX were to preside and everyone of importance in France, both Catholic and Huguenot, would be in attendance, as well as the Amba.s.sadors from England, Spain, Holland, Germany, Italy and the Holy See. Duval knew that with all the Court intrigues being played out and alliances being sought there would be no opportunity for him to speak to the Abbot. That must wait until the morning. This evening it would be enough for him to be presented and recognised.

Then as he reviewed his appearance in a mirror and drew on his gloves, he antic.i.p.ated with relish the encounter he would manoeuvre at some point between himself and Lerans. He took a final glance at the mirror, slightly adjusted the tilt of his plumed hat, and left.

At least three hundred people were in the Receiving Room at the Louvre and with the silks, laces, c.o.c.kades, wigs and pommades it was difficult to decide who were the more beautifully attired, the women or the men. The 22-year-old King sat enthroned on a dais to one side with his mother, Catherine, watching as one by one the dignitaries were announced and received by the Abbot of Amboise with a slight inclination of the head. To a few he gave a faint smile and to others a small gesture with his hand.

The presentations were made by order of rank with preference shown, naturally, to the Catholics. But the Huguenots were not ill-received and Admiral Gaspard de Coligny was accorded a warm smile by the Queen Mother after he had been presented.

Duval, for his part, overdid his bow with an extravagant sweep of his hat which caused the Abbot to smile thinly at him, a gesture Duval completely misinterpreted. Both Lerans and Muss bowed curtly and formally before being swallowed up by the crowd again.

'I have the feeling I've seen him before,' Muss remarked,

'quite recently, too.'

'When clerics sit on thrones, they all look alike to me,'

Lerans answered dismissively as Duval pushed his way through the crowd to his side.

'Well, Viscount Lerans, what is your impression of our good Lord Abbot?' His voice had an edge to it.

Lerans shrugged. 'What would you expect it to be, Simon?' he replied. 'He looks much like any other of that ilk.'

'You surprise me,' Duval said, 'But I'm sure that on better acquaintance you'll think differently.' He turned to Muss. 'And your impression, Herr Muss?'

'That I'd seen him before,' Muss replied.

'Mine as well,' Duval smirked, 'and, no doubt, all three of us will see him again and again.'

A liveried lackey came to Lerans's side and spoke quietly to him. Lerans nodded and turned back to Muss and Duval.

'You must forgive me if I take leave of you, gentlemen,'

he said, smiling, 'but, apparently, some friends of mine they're apothecaries need me.' He bowed to a shaken Duval and winked at Muss before making his way out of the room.

For a moment Duval stared into Muss's eyes which sparkled with amus.e.m.e.nt. 'Walk softly, Herr Muss,' he warned and moved away.

This was not the evening it should have been, Lerans reflected, as the Alsations raced unerringly through the dark underground ditches and catacombs until they ran into the well-lit cave and stopped. Lerans stepped out of the cart and grinned. 'You must forgive me, ladies and gentlemen, for my appearance but I was at the royal reception.'

'For this gentleman, sire?' Charles asked, pointing at the Doctor amid general laughter.

For a moment Lerans looked bemused and then turned at the Doctor. 'But we met, sir, did we not, this afternoon at the Roman Bridge Auberge which you quit to find an apothecary?'

'That is so, Viscount Lerans,' the Doctor replied as he stood up, indicating Preslin with his hand, 'and, as you see, I found the gentleman.'

Lerans's face became serious. 'Where's Steven Taylor, your companion?' he asked.

The Doctor raised his arms and said, 'I have no idea.'

Lerans turned to Charles. 'Put out the word to find him at once,' he ordered, 'and bring him to safety.' Charles saluted, jumped into the dog cart beside the driver and rode off. Lerans smiled at the Doctor. 'An efficient means of transportation, don't you think, there's far less traffic down here than on the streets.'

'Are there many of these tunnels?' the Doctor asked.

'Two hundred and eighty-seven kilometres of them, to be precise, spread out like a giant spider's web under the city.' Lerans clicked his fingers. 'You can cross Paris like that and they are exclusively ours.'

'You mean they belong to the Huguenots?' the Doctor asked.

'They are of Roman origin, a system of pagan burial grounds which, naturally, are of no interest to good Catholic souls so, day and night, we use them.'

'Fascinating,' the Doctor observed as the apothecaries muttered among themselves. 'Quite remarkable.'

'But, my Lord, doesn't he remind you of someone?'

David exploded impatiently.

'Absolutely,' Lerans grinned. 'The man in whose honour I was supposed to have dined tonight. They could be identical twins.' He glanced at Preslin. 'Which reminds me, I've missed my supper. Do you think I could have something to eat?' Turning back to the Doctor he invited him to share a jug of wine.

Then, over the table and between mouthfuls, Lerans, with enormous charm and wit, put to the Doctor the most preposterous proposition he had ever heard.

6.

Beds for a Night When Simon Duval returned to his quarters after the banquet he was gratified that he had been recognised by the Abbot but irritated that Lerans had not only failed to identify the cleric but had also been implicated in the escape of the apothecaries. With the Duke de Guise and the Marshall Tavannes, he had noted the amount of time Admiral de Coligny spent in the Queen Mother's company and they had agreed it was a matter of utmost urgency to draw the Abbot's attention to the Huguenots' influence over Catherine and, as a result, over her son, the King.

As he lay on his back between silken sheets, his head cradled in his hands, Duval mused on the new broom of Catholicism which had swept into power through the absence in Rome of the Most Ill.u.s.trious Cardinal Lorraine.

The Abbot of Amboise would not mince words nor shy away from deeds. Heresy in the form of the Germanic and English denial of the Pope's absolute supremacy, his infallibility in matters of faith, would be ruthlessly put down. The Queen Mother, quickly shown the error of her tolerant ways, would dismiss in disgrace de Coligny and those who served him. She would disperse the student community studying the precepts of the heretics, Luther and Calvin, in a district of Paris she had allowed to be known as 'little Geneva' near the Sorbonne. But most important of all, the marriage of Henry of Navarre to the Princess Marguerite annulled by a decree from Rome and France would once again sleep the sleep of the Catholic just which Simon Duval now did with vengeance in his heart.

Steven's night began less comfortably. his bed was a sodden pallia.s.se on the floor of a small, dank cell in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the Cardinal's palace and as he lay shivering in the dark he thought that although the climatic conditions may have been ideal for laying down bottles of wine they did nothing to help the human spirit. He felt he was justifiably angry with the Doctor about the secrecy and deception of their presence in Paris and he was determined to have it out with him when they met up again. To make matters worse, every hour a guard pa.s.sed by his cell with a torch to make sure he was still there, which made sleeping, already difficult enough, almost impossible.

However, at two o'clock in the morning his circ.u.mstances changed when a resentful, recently demoted guard shone the torch brightly in his face and recognised him.

'Ho, it's you,' he said aggressively. 'Remember me?'

'Unfortunately, yes,' Steven replied and turned his face to the wall.

'Monsieur Duval will learn of your presence here immediately.' The ex-Captain of the Guard kicked Steven in the small of the back before racing off to Duval's quarters.

' What! What! ' Duval roared on hearing the news. 'That man in a cell! Get him out of there at once.' He scrambled out of his bed and threw on a brocaded dressing-gown. 'Install him in one of the Most Ill.u.s.trious Cardinal's guest rooms. ' Duval roared on hearing the news. 'That man in a cell! Get him out of there at once.' He scrambled out of his bed and threw on a brocaded dressing-gown. 'Install him in one of the Most Ill.u.s.trious Cardinal's guest rooms.

I shall he there to receive him,' he shouted as he waved the astonished guard from his room.

Steven recognised Duval but was taken aback by his effusive reception.

'My dear sir, that such an error could occur is incomprehensible,' Duval protested, 'and I trust that when you see My Lord the Abbot in the morning you will remind him that I reacted with alacrity to a regrettable situation.'

'Of course, I shall,' Steven replied, looking around the magnificent room which had been given to him. 'Very first thing.'

Duval bowed and backed his way out, leaving Steven to strip off and crawl between the silken sheets. Just before he fell luxuriously asleep he chuckled and thought what a sly old fox the Doctor was.

It was not a sentiment the Doctor would have shared.

Lerans had manoeuvred him into a difficult, dangerous corner, and cunning would not be enough to extricate himself but somehow he had to.

He looked at the earnest faces of the men who surrounded him, among them Preslin, David and Lerans, then slowly shook his head.

'What you ask of me, gentlemen, is impossible,' he stated, 'and your destinies lie in your own hands, not in those of a stranger, which I am. The history of France is not mine but yours to write. Besides, I am a fatalist and my ethic is that what must happen will happen, regardless of all that I may try to do.' But inwardly the Doctor felt ashamed. These were courageous men who deserved better from him. He wanted to change his mind and say, 'Yes, I'll play along with you,' but he couldn't. It was out of the question.

There was an awkward silence which Lerans finally broke. 'Steven should be here soon,' he said, 'and when it's daylight you can continue your journey.'

Then the dog cart came dashing in from the tunnel and Charles jumped out.

'The Catholics have got him,' he cried and explained how Steven had been taken by a night patrol. Lerans rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then turned to the Doctor.

'Remain here, Doctor,' he said, 'we'll arrange his rescue.'

'Where is Steven being held?' the Doctor asked.

'In a cell at the Cardinal's palace,' Charles replied.

David grunted. 'That won't make it any easier,' he confided to no one in particular.

'Unless, of course, I order his release,' the Doctor announced, emphasising the first person singular. There was silence as all eyes turned towards him. 'But that would be mean-spirited in the extreme, gentlemen, to play the role you propose only because it suits my purpose. So, confronted as I am with force majeure force majeure I shall play it for the common good. But let me remind you once again, Viscount Lerans, that I am a fatalist.' I shall play it for the common good. But let me remind you once again, Viscount Lerans, that I am a fatalist.'

'My name is Gaston,' Lerans replied and kissed the Doctor on both cheeks.

Disengaging himself as best he could the Doctor said that he would need to know everything about the Abbot, whom he saw, where he went, what appointments were arranged for him, and all of it to the last detail.

'Our web of spies is like the tunnels, Doctor,' Lerans said. 'It reaches out everywhere.'

The Doctor cleared his throat. 'And, of course, I'll be driven around in that,' he said, pointing to the dog cart.

Lerans nodded and smiled as he realised that the Doctor was about to enjoy himself thoroughly.

Steven woke up with hot sunlight cascading through the open cas.e.m.e.nt windows. A servant was in the room who said that he had taken the liberty of having Steven's unusual attire brushed, had drawn him a cooling bath and asked if he required some refreshment before his appointment with Simon Duval and the Abbot of Amboise.

Steven thanked him and suggested that a jug of milk with some biscuits would make a pleasant breakfast.

An hour later Duval knocked respectfully on the door and waited for Steven to invite him in.

'I trust you slept well?' Duval enquired.

Steven smiled. 'The second part of the night was better than the first,' he replied.

Duval looked uncomfortable and admitted that the incident was most unfortunate, then suggested that they should visit the Abbot in his office immediately.