Doctor Who_ Time Warrior Part 10

Sir Edward sank slowly into his chair. 'Aye, so you said.

And we cannot stand against him.'

'On the contrary, sir,' said the Doctor encouragingly. 'I think we can!'

'By use of your magic?' asked Sir Edward hopefully.

'Well-by creating an illusion anyway,' said the Doctor.

'I'll need to fetch a few odds-and-ends from the TARDIS.'

'Your magic will need to be powerful indeed to discourage Irongron.'

'Don't worry, it will!'

'And what do we do?' asked Sarah.

The Doctor smiled. 'My kind of magic takes lots of preparation. There'll be plenty of work for everyone.'

As the morning sunshine streamed through the windows, Irongron was already buckling on his battle-armour.

Bloodaxe, fully armoured and clutching his battleaxe, clanked into the hall. 'The men are ready, Captain.'

'Good.' Irongron tested the edge on his sword and thrust it into his sheath. 'For such an easy conquest as this 'tis scarce worth strapping on armour. You and I alone, good Bloodaxe, could take Sir Edward's castle.'

'Indeed we could, Captain.'

Irongron's mind was leaping ahead to fresh conquests.

'When Sir Edward's castle is mine, I shall use his treasure to hire more soldiers. And with Linx to arm them with his magic weapons-who shall stand against us?'

Linx appeared, his alien features covered by the helmet.

From beneath it his voice boomed, 'When does the fighting start?'

Irongron laughed. 'Why, in the time it takes to ride from here to Sir Edward's castle.'

'I shall come with you.'

Irongron stared at him. 'You, Linx? My oath!' He grinned broadly at Bloodaxe. 'Can you see that that running up a scaling ladder?' running up a scaling ladder?'

Linx's eyes glowed red at the mockery, but he said evenly, 'I have an interest in seeing the battle.'

Irongron looked curiously at him. 'Those red eyes have a thirst for blood, eh? Then come you shall. Bloodaxe!

Find our bold star warrior a horse!'

Yawning after what felt like far too little sleep, Sarah made her way up the winding staircase to the little tower room that the Doctor had taken over for his laboratory. She found the Doctor stirring an evil-smelling powder in an enormous wooden bowl. He was wide-awake and infuriatingly cheerful. Perhaps he didn't need sleep, thought Sarah. She unwrapped her bundle and tipped it out in front of him. It held dozens of little bags made from rough sacking. 'Here you are. I hope it's what you wanted.

Lady Eleanor's got every serving wench in the castle sewing away like mad.'

'Told you there'd be plenty of work for everyone, didn't I?' The Doctor picked up one of the bags, opened it, and began filling it with the powder from the bowl. When the bag was full he turned to another in which a number of lengths of twine lay soaking in a clear fluid. Fishing one of the lengths out, the Doctor used it to tie the bag closed at the neck, taking care to leave a dangling length of twine.

He picked up another bag and started the whole process all over again.

'Typically masculine arrangement,' said Sarah teasingly.

'The womenfolk do all the hard work and you get all the fun.'

The Doctor sniffed. 'If you think preparing this singularly unpleasant compound is fun, Sarah... How's the rest of it going?'

'Pretty well. Sir Edward's painting the faces. He turned out to be quite an artist. Everything'll be ready soon.'

'Excellent,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'You know, I'm quite glad I decided to stay.'

' You You decided?' decided?'

'I'd have liked a go at the painting myself,' he went on wistfully, 'but I'm not much of a hand with a brush, or a palette knife come to that. Old Rembrandt gave me a few lessons once, but I never really got the hang of it...'

'Rembrandt?' said Sarah incredulously. 'You mean you can go anywhere you like in that TARDIS? Any place, any time?'

'Well-within reason. Mind you, the steering still needs one or two minor adjustments.'

'Why are you staying here? Why don't you just clear off to somewhere safer?'

'Because I've got a job to do, Sarah. One that affects the future of all your species.'

'My species? You're talking as if you weren't human.'

The Doctor tied another bag. 'Ah, well, yes. The definition of humanity is a very complex question...'

'You know perfectly well what I mean, Doctor. Are you or aren't you?'

'If you mean am I a native of the planet Terra, as you are-no, I'm not.'

'What are you then?'

The Doctor sighed-he hated explanations. 'If you must know, I'm a Time Lord. My people are very keen to stamp out unlicensed time travel. You can think of us as galactic ticket inspectors if you like!'

Sarah yawned. Somehow the Doctor's explanation only made her more confused. 'Galactic ticket inspectors,' she muttered. 'Oh boy. Could I do with a nice cup of tea!' She looked down at the Doctor who was still working busily away. His long fingers moved with nimble speed and soon most of the little bags were filled and tied. 'You're quite serious about all this, aren't you, Doctor?'

'About what I do, yes. But not necessarily about the way I do it. For instance, do you know what's in these bags?'

'No idea.'

The Doctor grinned mischievously. 'Well, you might say this was a special smoking mixture. Saltpetre, sulphur, fat... and a few extra ingredients of my own...'

There came the sound of a distant horn. The Doctor looked up. 'That'll be Irongron, I imagine. We'd better get a move on. I think battle's about to commence!'

12.

The Doctor's Magic At the head of his little army, Irongron rode out of the forest, Linx and Bloodaxe close behind him. As the castle came in view he reined to a halt, raising his hand as a signal to the column.

Handing the reins to a man-at-arms, Irongron dismounted. He peered ahead of him, shading his eyes against the sun. Directly in front of him was a short stretch of rough, open ground. On the other side, the east wall of Sir Edward's castle, the only one not protected by the moat. Irongron stared hard at the long turreted wall. At every single embrasure the morning sunlight glinted on helmet and pike. The wall was lined with armed men.

Irongron gave a howl of rage. 'We have been tricked, Bloodaxe! That dog of a squire swore Sir Edward had but a few old men to guard his castle.'

Bloodaxe came to stand beside his Captain. 'Lord Salisbury must have sent him help.'

'Edward's messenger to Salisbury lies in our dungeons.

Those cannot be Salisbury's men.'

Linx shouldered his way forward. 'Why do you wait?

What will be your first method of attack?'

Irongron turned away in disgust. 'We do not attack. We return to my castle.'

'You fear to fight?' There was contempt in Linx's voice.

'We Sontarans say, the greater the odds, the greater the glory.'

'I fear nothing, toad-face,' snarled Irongron. 'But my men fight for reward-and there is small profit in being butchered for naught.'

Bloodaxe said gloomily. 'We have but few men, Sir Linx, and Sir Edward now holds his walls with too strong a force.'

'Then use the weapons that I made for you. They have the range to slay your enemies on their walls.'

Irongron tugged his beard. 'Aye, the new weapons. By my oath, Linx, when I'm king you shall be my general!'

The Doctor and Sarah crouched down behind a soldier- not a real soldier, but a painted figure of wood and canvas.

Only the steel helmet above the painted face was real, and the pike lashed to its side. Similar dummy figures filled the embrasures along the length of the wall. Hal the archer and the few real men-at-arms were hiding at intervals along the wall.

Sarah grinned at the sight of the furiously arguing figures below them. 'That's made them stop and think, anyway.'

The Doctor pointed to a squat armoured figure next to Irongron. 'I thought Linx wouldn't be able to resist coming along... Sontarans can't resist a war. I'm afraid he won't be so easy to fool as old Irongron.'

'This must be very minor league stuff to him, surely?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'He's like a little boy, stirring up the red ants and the black ants for sport-just something to stop him getting bored.'

There was a good deal of confusion and milling about amongst the attackers below. Weapons were being unloaded from a cart, pa.s.sed out amongst the men.

Irongron's troops formed themselves into an uneven line and began advancing on the castle. They raised the weapons to their shoulders. The Doctor put his hand on Sarah's head and shoved her below the embrasure. 'Keep down!'

There was a ragged volley from below. Heavy bullets whizzed past their heads, some of them chipping chunks of stone from the battlements. Holes appeared in the canvas body of the dummy. 'They've got guns!' said Sarah indignantly. The Doctor nodded.

'We can thank our Sontaran friend for that!'

Irongron shaded his eyes again, and glared along the battlements. There was a mailed figure at every embrasure, just as before. Some of his men might have missed-but not all of them...

Bloodaxe confirmed his thoughts. 'Not a man of the enemy has fallen, Captain.'

Irongron turned angrily to Linx. 'Your weapons do not work, star warrior.'

'Your men do not shoot straight!' Linx s.n.a.t.c.hed a rifle from the nearest man-at-arms; re-loaded and threw it to his shoulder. Moving forward he fired at the figure directly above him. There was the crack of the shot, and black smoke from the gun.

'You missed, star warrior,' jeered Irongron.

Linx tossed the weapon back to the man-at-arms.

'I never miss. Those soldiers do not move or fall. They are not living men.'

Irongron looked at the motionless figures lining the battlements. 'Dummies! I smell that fox the Doctor behind this!' He turned and shouted to his men. 'They are but dummies, lads. Men of straw. Bring up the scaling ladders-we attack!'

Crouching down low, the Doctor dragged a heavy wooden tub out of the corner turret and along to the centre of the battlements. Sarah came behind him, carefully shielding a smoking lamp. She put it down beside the tub and looked up at the Doctor. 'Now what?'

'We'll just let them get a bit closer.'

Staggering under the weight of the long, unwieldy scaling ladders, Irongron's men lurched forward. Unopposed they reached the castle walls and began swaying the ladders into place.

The Doctor's tub was filled with the round powder-filled bags. They looked rather like little Christmas puddings.

The Doctor took one of the bags from the tub, and held the end of its twine in the flame of the lamp. The saltpetre-soaked twine caught fire at once, sputtering fiercely.

Almost carelessly, the Doctor tossed the bag over the battlements. He reached for another...

The man-at-arms steadied the base of the scaling ladder so that his fellows could begin to climb. Suddenly, a little fizzing bag plopped down at his feet. He bent to pick it up-and jumped back with a yell of fear as the bag exploded.