Doctor Who_ Time Warrior Part 7

The Doctor hurried after her, yelling, 'Miss Smith! Hey, Sarah, come back!' When he reached the corner she was nowhere in sight. 'Stupid girl,' he muttered. He was about to go in search of her when he heard footsteps and ducked back round the corner.

Two mailed men were dragging a third between them.

He was dressed in Lincoln green, and his arms were bound behind him. Behind the little party marched another man.

There was a huge two-handed axe over his shoulder. The little group went straight on down the corridor, and out through a door at the far end. The Doctor waited for a moment and followed them.

Higher up the corridor was an alcove, curtained by a musty tapestry. The tapestry stirred and Sarah emerged from hiding. She crept cautiously after the Doctor.

Bloodaxe surveyed his arrangements with pride. After all, if you were going to have an execution you might as well do it in style. Some people disposed of unwanted prisoners with a quick stab in the back, but Bloodaxe took pride in doing these things properly.

He'd even had a proper execution-block set up in the middle of the yard. He waved his hand. Hal was dragged forward, forced to his knees, then thrust down on to the block, his head projecting over the edge. Bloodaxe spat on his palms, hefted his axe and took a few practice swings.

Then he shouldered the axe again, waiting for the arrival of Irongron. The Captain always liked a good execution.

Hiding behind an ox-cart, the Doctor looked on in horror. He knew he had to do something to help-but what? The yard was full of villainous-looking men-at-arms, waiting to see the fun-and he was unarmed.

The Doctor looked higher. A kind of walkway ran along the top of the walls surrounding the courtyard. It was patrolled by a solitary sentry armed with a crossbow. He was supposed to be looking outwards into the forest, but instead he was gazing down into the yard. A flight of steps in the corner led up to the walkway. The Doctor started working his way towards it.

Sarah was peeping round the edge of the door, trying to tell herself it was all a bit of mock-medieval fun.

Somewhere there was a hidden camera, and soon they'd all pack up and have a cup of tea. But in her heart she knew that this was no joke. Somehow she'd been plunged into the brutal realities of history-and soon a real head would roll across the muddy cobblestones of the yard. She saw Irongron appear in the main doorway. Bloodaxe nodded to his Captain, took the axe from his shoulder and raised it high...

'Stay, Bloodaxe!' bellowed Irongron.

Bloodaxe arrested the axe inches from Hal's neck and stared indignantly at Irongron, who was grinning savagely.

'I have devised better sport for us.' He strode out into the courtyard followed by a man-at-arms carrying Hal's bow and quiver. Irongron went up to the block and gazed down at Hal. 'Will you fight for your life, fellow?'

Hal struggled to his knees. 'I'll fight any man.'

'Then stand against Irongron's champion!'

There was a strange metal device in Irongron's hand. He touched it-and a giant knight in black armour marched stiffly into the yard.

Bloodaxe stared at the newcomer. 'Who is this, Captain?' he whispered.

Irongron was rocking with suppressed mirth. 'You'll see good sport now, Bloodaxe. Release the dog!' Bloodaxe pulled Hal to his feet and severed his bonds. 'Give him his bow.'

The man-at-arms pa.s.sed Hal his bow and quiver. Hal took them, hardly able to believe his eyes.

Bloodaxe sidled up to Irongron. ''Tis not fair combat, Captain, knight against bowman. At this range, the arrows will pierce the armour with ease.' It was true enough. At many a battle the armoured chivalry of France had been brought down by English bowmen.

Irongron waved him away. He looked at Hal. 'Are you game, fellow?'

'That I am,' said Hal grimly. He notched an arrow to his bow, and stepped back to get a clear aim at the motionless black figure.

'Your freedom if you kill him,' promised Irongron.

'Stand back, all of you.'

Hurriedly the spectators widened their circle. Irongron touched his control again. The black knight strode jerkily forward, sword raised high.

Hal drew back the bow-string, aimed and fired, all in one smooth motion. The arrow whistled across the courtyard and thudded into the weak point where helmet joins neck, transfixing the black knight through the throat.

Without breaking step, the knight came jerkily on.

There was a gasp of unbelieving astonishment from the spectators. 'See, Captain, he still moves!' breathed Bloodaxe. Irongron gave him a slap on the back that almost floored him, and exploded with a bellow of laughter. 'Aye, that he does, good Bloodaxe! That he does.'

No one was more astonished than Hal. Despite his surprise, he had fitted another arrow to his bow. He fired again. This time the arrow pierced the black knight's breastplate directly over the heart. Yet still his uncanny foe stalked towards him. Hal jumped back as the black knight's sword whistled down. Fumbling for a third arrow he backed away. The black knight stalked after him.

The Doctor was at the top of the stairs by now. The sentry was leaning over the courtyard, transfixed by the astonis.h.i.+ng spectacle below. The Doctor began edging towards him.

Hal fired again, and another arrow pierced the black knight through the heart. Yet still it came on. Panic-stricken, Hal leaped back-and stumbled over an abandoned wagon-wheel. He tripped and fell. The black knight loomed over him, sword raised high for the kill- and waited.

The Doctor lowered the unconscious sentry to the ground and straightened up, crossbow in hand. He took careful aim. He'd had lessons from William Tell once, but that had been a long time ago...

As Irongron was about to transmit the instruction for the killing blow a crossbow-bolt smashed the control-unit from his hand. Rubbing numbed fingers he glared angrily round the courtyard. 'What rogue did that?' He looked up and saw a tall figure running along the wall. Suddenly Bloodaxe gave a shout of alarm. 'Guard yourself, Captain.'

The robot knight was staggering towards them, sword flailing like the arms of a windmill.

Irongron lugged out his own sword just in time to parry the first smas.h.i.+ng blow-and found himself fighting for his life.

The Doctor looked down from the wall and smiled grimly. This was even better than he'd hoped. The shattering of the control unit had sent the robot berserk, and it was providing the diversion he so desperately needed. Meanwhile Hal had taken his opportunity and was running towards the open gate. But two of Irongron's men were blocking his way. Hal changed direction, and a door close by swung open.

'This way,' called Sarah. Hal ran through the door and it closed behind him.

In the courtyard, battle was still raging. Several crossbow-bolts had now joined Hal's arrows, but the robot seemed quite unaffected. Somehow it had fixed on Irongron as its target, and pursued him with remorse-less fury. It took all of Irongron's strength and skill to parry the rain of blows, and he staggered back and back, grunting with fatigue...

It was the faithful Bloodaxe who came to his Captain's aid. s.n.a.t.c.hing up the axe that had been intended for Hal, he leaped boldly forward and swung the axe in a whistling arc that lopped the black knight's head from its shoulders.

The helmet rolled across the courtyard, and the headless figure reeled, changed direction, staggered into a corner and stood slas.h.i.+ng blindly at the stone wall.

Irongron drew a deep sobbing breath, and mopped his brow. 'By heaven, Bloodaxe, 'tis like a tin tadpole. Cut off its head and yet it wriggles. It nearly slew me me! I will have words with Linx about this!'

Irongron stamped off through the arched doorway, followed by Bloodaxe and most of the men-at-arms. One or two remained, grouped round the robot, watching as its still-slas.h.i.+ng sword struck sparks from the stones. Finally, they too lost interest and drifted away.

For a moment the courtyard was deserted. The side door opened, Sarah and Hal looked cautiously out. Seeing the empty courtyard, they ran swiftly and silently across the drawbridge and disappeared into the forest.

From his place on the wall, the Doctor watched them go. Now, if those two would only keep out of his way, perhaps he could find out what was going on in this very strange castle...

9.

Linx's Slaves Linx stood helmetless in the doorway of his scout s.h.i.+p and stared round the huge underground store-room. All around him slave-scientists were busy at their tasks, repairing delicate circuits, forging new ones where the damage was too great. Grey-faced, red-eyed, stumbling with exhaustion, they worked without cease. Yet still Linx was not satisfied.

So much still to be done with these crude, improvised tools and clumsy workers. Would he never be free of this primitive planet? He looked up angrily as someone began hammering on the door.

(Absorbed with his never-ending problems, Linx had failed to notice that a figure had appeared on the other side of the window grille. The Doctor peered into the room, looking at the strange equipment, the toiling figures, the Sontaran scout-s.h.i.+p in one corner, and knew that his search was over. The metal grille covering the window was loose in its frame of stonework. The Doctor gave an experimental heave. The grille s.h.i.+fted a little. He heaved again, then ducked swiftly back out of sight at the sudden hammering on the door.) 'Linx,' bellowed an angry voice. 'Come out, Linx, you mongrel toad! I have a bone to pick with you!' The door s.h.i.+vered under a ma.s.sive blow.

Linx's little red eyes glowed with anger. 'I am occupied, Irongron.'

'Out this minute, dog, or I shall burst down the door.'

Contemptuously Linx turned away. There was a shattering crash, the lock burst open, and the door slammed back against the wall. Irongron stood framed in the doorway, sword in hand. He opened his mouth to bellow a threat-and the breath choked in his throat as he saw the Sontaran's face for the very first time. He staggered back, his left hand making a clumsy attempt at the sign of the cross.

Linx said ironically, 'Well? What were you in such haste to say to me?' Irongron gulped. The Sontaran's thin lips twitched. 'I told you that you might not find my face pleasing.'

Irongron rubbed his eyes with a ma.s.sive paw. 'Aye, and never was truer word spoken. Are they all as fair of face beyond the stars?'

'The variety of sentient life-forms is infinite. Do you think your primitive features are pleasing to me? What is it that you want?'

Irongron remembered his grievance. 'This cursed iron warrior of yours...'

'You are pleased with it? I can make you many more, if you keep our bargain.'

'More!' bellowed Irongron. 'I tell you, Linx, with allies such as that, I have small need of enemies. The creature nearly had my life. We riddled it with arrows, and Bloodaxe smote off its head. Yet still it sought to slay me!'

'The measure of a weapon is the skill of the man who handles it. Your sword is useless to one who does not understand how to wield it. You must have mismanaged the hand control.'

Irongron stared at him. In the business of actually dealing with the robot, he had temporarily forgotten how the crisis had come about. 'Some knave smote the control from my hands with a crossbow-bolt. Sir Edward must have sent men to rescue his archer. Your iron man became crazed, Linx. It tried to slay us all!'

'Perhaps the hand control itself is a weakness,' said Linx thoughtfully. 'I will build you another, better warrior, Irongron, one that will obey your voice.'

Irongron grunted. 'First help me kill the one I have now. It still struggles to slay my knaves.'

The Sontaran gave a rasping sigh. 'It cannot be killed, Irongron, it was never alive. Come, I will deactivate it.

Then perhaps you will give me peace to continue my work.' He led Irongron out of the chamber.

A few minutes' work on the mortar with his sonic screwdriver, followed by some good old-fas.h.i.+oned heaving, enabled the Doctor to loosen the iron grille and pull it aside. He squeezed through the gap and dropped down into the room.

The Doctor stood for a moment looking at the silent, busy figures at the tables. They went on with their work, ignoring him. He saw the computer standing against the wall, the Sontaran scout s.h.i.+p in the far corner. How on earth had they got it down here? They must have dragged the little s.h.i.+p in with ropes and pulleys, inch by inch. The Doctor wondered how the Sontaran had persuaded his ally to undertake such a colossal task. As he looked round the room, his eye fell on the answer. Guns! A pile of them lay on one of the wooden tables. The Doctor picked one up. It was a crude but efficient percussion weapon, hundreds of years before its time. 'Insanity,' he murmured. 'Absolute insanity!' A white-coated figure came up to the table and deposited an armful of newly-a.s.sembled rifles with the others. Suddenly the Doctor realised that he knew the man-they'd met briefly at the research centre. 'Professor Morrison!' he called. Ignoring him the man stumbled away. Another scientist detached himself from the rest, groping his way blindly along the wall, and he too was familiar. 'Rubeis.h.!.+'

Rubeish came to a halt, peering about like an old mole disturbed in its tunnel. 'What? Who's that?'

'It's the Doctor. We were in the same dormitory at the Research Centre.'

'Oh my dear fellow,' said the old man sympathetically.

'Got you too, has he?'

'Not exactly. What's happened to all these people, Rubeish?'

'Hypnotised, then programmed to work,' said Rubeish promptly. 'Rotten company. Can't get a word out of them.'

'You seem to be all right.'

'Didn't work with me,' said Rubeish proudly. 'He doesn't know, of course. I keep out of his way, join in here and there and he thinks I'm like the others. I was too strong-minded for him.'

The Doctor looked at the old man's squinting eyes. 'Too short-sighted, more like it. He must have used some kind of ocular device. Do you realise where you are, old chap?'

'Some kind of castle, I suspect. I was feeling the carving of these columns. Astonis.h.i.+ngly well-preserved.'

'You're in a castle all right. But do you realise the time?'

'Still morning, is it? We haven't had breakfast yet. He doesn't feed us much, you know. Once a day, if we're lucky.'

The Doctor took a deep breath. 'Steel yourself, Professor, this is going to be a shock to you. You've been brought back to the middle ages!'

Rubeish blinked. 'How very interesting. I've always believed that the possibility of time travel should never have been dismissed so arrogantly by Professor Crabshaw and his cronies. In fact, my dear Doctor-'

The Doctor had no time for scientific discussions.

'Some other time, old chap. We've got to get you away before that Sontaran returns.'

'Oh not yet, Doctor, surely? There's most interesting work being done here, you know. I only wish I could see it all properly.'

'Your life is in danger here. I must insist that we leave!'

Obstinately Rubeish shook his head. 'You can go if you wish, but I'm staying. Go on, be off with you, and leave me alone!'

Huffily the old man waved the Doctor away. The Doctor looked at him in some indignation. Was this any way to treat a rescuer? It would be hard enough to get Rubeish clear of the castle if he co-operated, impossible if he was going to struggle...

The Doctor hesitated a moment too long. Suddenly the Sontaran was in the doorway, covering him with a stubby metal tube that the Doctor recognised as a ray-gun. 'Do not move!' he rasped, and came slowly down the stairs. 'You are the one known as the Doctor?'

'You know who I am?'

'I have been expecting you. Why did you follow me to this time zone?'

'To prevent your interference with the development of Earth. Surely you realise the harm you'll cause?'

'This primitive planet and its affairs are of no importance to me.'

The Doctor nodded grimly. 'I should have expected that reaction. A typically Sontaran att.i.tude.'