Doctor Who: The Masque of the Mandragora (3 page)

It was a long time since the Doctor had ridden a horse. Luckily the animal was strong and surefooted and gradually they began to draw clear of their pursuers. The Doctor had no idea where he was heading. At some point he knew he would have to leave the main path and set off into the woodland if he were to lose his trackers completely.

He rounded a bend and came to a fork in the path. Approaching him from the left was a large body of mounted soldiers in the same scarlet and yellow livery. He wheeled his horse to the right and set off down the clear pathway but too late saw it was a trap. Above him in a large overhanging tree were two soldiers waiting to pounce. As his horse passed beneath they dropped like stones onto the Doctor’s back and hurled him to the ground. The Doctor let out a cry of pain as his head caught a sharp rock. The force of the blow knocked him unconscious and he lay there dishevelled and defenceless as the pursuing captain and his troop arrived on the scene.

The captain grunted with satisfaction as he observed the Doctor’s prostrate form. ‘Bind the dog before he recovers his wits!’ he ordered. ‘Count Federico will want to question this one!’

Sarah woke to find herself tied and gagged. Two men were bundling her through a warren of dark stone passages. She guessed they must be underground because the air was damp and chill and the only source of light came from burning torches set at intervals in the walls. She realised she must have lost consciousness when the hooded figures smothered her in the woods. She had no idea how far they had come, and still had not seen the faces of her kidnappers. They kept their black cowls well forward like monks.

Presently they entered a vast underground chamber like a huge cavern scooped out of a rocky hillside. More of the hooded figures formed a semi-circle around a rectangular stone altar in the middle of the chamber. One of them stepped forward as she was dragged in. This time she could see his face, he made no attempt to hide it. He was tall and hollow-checked, a fanatical gleam in his eyes.

‘Release her,’ he said. His voice sounded reverential and priestly but Sarah felt sure this was not a Christian sect. The whole place smelt of occultism and magic.

‘Where was she found?’

‘On the slopes of the Hill of Sorrows.’

‘At what hour?’

‘At the noon hour.’

The priestly one nodded with satisfaction. ‘Exactly as it was foretold. A maiden of face and sturdy of body.’

‘You can forget the flattery,’ said Sarah as her gag was removed. ‘What do you want?’

The voice grew more incantatory. ‘It is written that some are conscious of the purpose for which they are chosen, others are as innocent as lambs.’

‘Sorry?’ replied Sarah not following his drift. ‘Try again.’

‘My child, the purity of your sacrifice renders it doubly welcome to the mighty Demnos, god of the twin realms of moontide and solstice.’

‘Sacrifice? Now just a minute—’ Their intention was now becoming very clear. The priest ignored her. Raising his voice he commanded, ‘Let her be prepared to receive the sacrificial blade!’

Before Sarah could protest the two hooded brothers grabbed her arms and began to drag her across the floor of the chamber.

3
Execution!

The Doctor came round. His head was muzzy and throbbed with pain. His mind struggled to focus itself. He was being half carried across a smooth marble floor. Sounds echoed loudly as if they were in a long corridor. Every so often a large stone pillar brushed past his shoulder. It dawned on him that he was inside some sort of palace.

His captors stopped outside a pair of heavy ornate doors which swung open before them like magic. They entered. Inside was a large and richly furnished state-room. In the centre flanked by guards in scarlet livery sat an imposing figure on a raised throne. He was elegantly dressed in silk and ermine robes, on his head the black velvet hat emphasised the coarseness of his face beneath. The Doctor noted the vulture-like nose and thin-lipped mouth and decided it was not a face he could readily warm to.

‘This is the man, sire.’ said a voice at the Doctor’s elbow and he was thrust roughly forward. The Doctor recognised the voice as belonging to the scar-faced captain.

‘So!’ Count Federico rose to his feet and studied the Doctor. ‘I hear you led my ruffians quite a dance.’

The Doctor smiled. ‘Just a short gallop. Good for the liver.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Doctor will do.’

The Count fingered the Doctor’s coat. ‘You wear strange garments. Where are you from?’

‘Does it matter?’ responded the Doctor rudely.

The Count’s features contorted themselves into an even uglier expression. ‘You are tall enough, Doctor. Answer my questions civilly and promptly or your body will be lengthened on the rack.’

‘Don’t threaten me,’ replied the Doctor sharply. ‘I’ve come here to help you.’

The captain stepped forward ready to strike. ‘Sire, let me punish the insolent dog!’

‘Wait!’ the Count waved him back. ‘The fellow puzzles me.’ He stared curiously at the Doctor. ‘What help do I need?’

The Doctor leant closer to explain. ‘An energy wave —part of the Mandragora Helix—has been released here. It could do untold damage. It must be neutralised immediately.’

Federico scowled. ‘What language is this? Make yourself plain.’

The Doctor looked round the circle of uncomprehending faces. He’d forgotten he was in the fifteenth century. ‘Let me put it this way—a ball of heavenly fire has come to Earth and will consume all who stand in its path. I must take it back to the stars.’

There was a stunned silence then a ripple of laughter ran through the room. The captain spoke first. ‘His mind is afflicted, sire, the fall from the horse...’

‘No,’ said the Count with a glint of understanding in his eyes. ‘He professes sorcery.’ He smiled evilly at the Doctor. ‘But there is no gold for you in San Martino. My seer, Hieronymous, is the finest in the land.’

‘Well just ask your seer if he’s ever seen an energy wave,’ replied the Doctor impatiently.

Federico was not to be put off. He circled the Doctor slowly as if inspecting an animal in a cage. An expression of eager cunning crept over his ugly features. ‘Can you tell the future?’ he asked slyly.

‘I can tell
your
future,’ retorted the Doctor, ‘and it’s likely to be very short and very unpleasant unless you listen to me.’

The Count’s face darkened and he fell silent for a moment or two. Then turning to a guard he ordered Hieronymous to be summoned immediately. ‘If you are making sport with us.’ he snarled ominously at the Doctor, ‘we shall make sport with your body. Be warned!’

Outside dusk was falling and the deep notes of the carillon rang across the city informing the inhabitants of the nightly curfew. Under the broad arch of the city gates a burly soldier was shooing the stragglers inside.

‘Curfew... curfew... hurry along!’ He prodded an overladen donkey through the opening with its equally laden master, a fat merchant from Padua. Satisfied they were the last he called out, ‘Close the gates!’ Above him on the ramparts the gatekeeper dodged into the winding room and the heavy doors began to close.

As the soldier was about to slip through the narrowing gap his attention was caught by a strange shrieking noise. He stopped and turned. It seemed to be coming from the air above him. He looked upwards and his whole body froze with horror. Swooping down towards him from the sky was a blinding ball of fire about ten feet in diameter. He drew his sword but it grew white hot and burst into flames. Screaming he scrabbled at the city gates trying to find the opening but they had already shut behind him. He was trapped. As he cowered against the archway the ball of fire descended upon him and engulfed his body in a blaze of dazzling light. Seconds later the light disappeared. All that remained was the hideously shrivelled form of the hapless soldier, like a piece of scarred wood struck by lightning.

Inside the palace Hieronymous was conducting his interrogation. The sorcerer weaved and bobbed around the Doctor like a monkey on a string, shooting questions at him from all sides. All the time he kept one eye cocked towards his master Federico who sat watching quietly and impassively. The astrologer’s black skull cap and thick grey beard lent him a particularly sinister air in the Doctor’s opinion. In addition he had noticed a suspicious looking phial of liquid which the sorcerer had brought to Federico on first entering. A look had passed between the two men suggesting complicity in some business of which the other courtiers in the room were ignorant. An uneasy fear was growing in the Doctor’s mind that he had stumbled into a complicated and dangerous state of affairs. And this childish interrogation was not helping matters.

‘Now answer me this,’ continued the soothsayer, ‘what does it signify when Venus is in opposition to Saturn and a great shadow passes over the moon?’

The Doctor sighed. ‘This is really all a great waste of time.’

‘Answer him! ‘ commanded the Count, rising from his chair.

‘Well it depends, doesn’t it?’

‘On what?’ hissed Hieronymous smelling the chance of ensnaring his prey.

‘On whether the cock crows three times before dawn and twelve hens lay addled eggs.’

‘What school of philosophy is that?’ demanded the astrologer suspiciously.

The Doctor smiled. ‘I can easily instruct you. All it needs is a colourful imagination and a quick tongue.’

Hieronymous scowled blackly. ‘And you, “my friendâ€

‘Excuse me,’ said the Doctor lifting his head from the block. ‘I always like to look my best on these occasions.’ He flashed a smile at the executioner who froze like a statue in mid-swing. Carefully and unhurriedly, the Doctor began to unwind his long scarf. Then in one explosive movement he flung it round the executioner’s ankles and pulled. The man tumbled onto the wooden boards in an ungainly heap, his sword narrowly missing the Doctor’s head as it fell from his grasp. In the moment of confusion that followed, the Doctor leapt to his feet and took a running dive off the edge of the platform. He sailed through the air over the heads of the astonished pikemen and landed with a thud on the back of the nearest horse. With one blow he swept the rider from his saddle and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. The startled animal reared violently and bolted like a bullet from a gun.

Scattering onlookers and guards alike the Doctor hurtled towards the nearest exit from the square. Blocking his path were two pikemen and a mounted soldier but the Doctor’s steed vaulted the long pointed staves like a champion hurdler and, landing expertly, wheeled round past the remaining guard who was too surprised to move.

‘Fools! Stop him!’ screamed Federico at the top of his voice. Tumbling over themselves in haste the remaining guards gave chase. But the Doctor had a head start and was already out of sight and racing through the cobbled streets like a man possessed. He knew it would be foolish to try and outrace his pursuers over any great distance. Ahead a low parapet ran along one side of the street. He quickly reined in the horse and jumped from the saddle. Then, giving the gallant animal a good slap on the rump, he swung over the parapet and waited, knowing the growing darkness would help protect him. Seconds later the clattering hooves of the pursuing troop thundered by inches from his head. He remained perfectly still until sure they were gone, then let out his breath and looked around. Below him was a drop of about twelve feet onto a paved terrace. Although it was growing dark, he could make out a number of paths leading from the terrace into a maze of wooden arbours and grottos. He guessed it must be part of the palace gardens. No doubt the Guard would start searching there very shortly, but at least the trees would afford him some cover. He dropped nimbly onto the terrace, and set off down a narrow winding path.

He had travelled no more than a couple of hundred yards when he heard voices calling out on either side of him. He could see the flicker of torchlight through the trees. The search parties were out quicker than he had anticipated. He hesitated, not knowing which way to turn.

Suddenly, two pikemen appeared on the pathway ahead. They let out a cry and began running towards him. In desperation the Doctor dived off the path and down a bushy slope. He slithered and stumbled to the bottom only to discover he was trapped in a dark stone grotto. Apart from the slope he had just come down there was no exit. He was walled in on all sides by what looked like ancient ruins. The excited yells of the pikemen grew nearer. He was cornered like a rat in a hole.

Then an extraordinary thing happened. As the Doctor’s back pressed against the rough stonework he felt the wall behind him move! He spun round and sure enough a gap had appeared in the masonry the height of a door. He pushed against the wall with both hands, and it swung open to reveal a narrow flight of steps leading into the ground. Unable to believe his good fortune the Doctor stepped smartly through the door, and heaved it back into place behind him.

Moments later the two pikemen arrived on the other side. The Doctor could hear their astonished conversation through the wall.

‘I swear he came in here,’ said the first, ‘and there’s no way out! Are we chasing a phantom?’

‘Or a worshipper of Demnos?’ whispered the second, fear creeping into his voice. ‘Those devils know a hundred secret ways through the city.’

‘A passage? Quick then, let’s find the trick!’

The Doctor held his breath as the first pikeman began to push and prod at the stonework.

‘No Giovanni,’ said the other restraining his companion. ‘I’d not venture into those catacombs for all the gold in Rome. I know men who’ve tried and never been seen again! ‘

There was a pause and the first pikeman muttered something the Doctor did not catch. He must have been convinced by his companion’s reasoning because the next thing the two of them could be heard cursing and grunting as they climbed back up the steep slope.