Doctor Who: The Myth Makers (12 page)

But even so, I wasn’t going to tell him about the Trojan horse – not while it remained the only chance of getting the Doctor’s friends back – and as he babbled resentfully away about how he’d always wanted to be a shepherd, and how difficult his father could sometimes be, I managed to gather just what had happened after I left the royal apartments. Apparently Steven and Vicki hadn’t been killed outright; so that was encouraging for them.

Now, remember that what follows is the story as I had it from Paris, out there on the plain that night, with the jackals yapping about us, and birds of ill-omen shouting the odds – and by Zeus, I wish I’d paid more attention to them! – so you mustn’t be surprised if he comes out of it rather well.

Cassandra, you will recall, had just launched one of her well-known and popular diatribes culminating in a death-wish; at which point I had held it tactful to withdraw my brooding presence from the proceedings. But Paris, if we are to believe him, stepped forward as angrily and boldly as a boa-constrictor about to be robbed of its breakfast.

‘Since when have you given orders to the military, Cassandra? Guards – put up your weapons! I am in command here!’

‘Of everything but your senses, it seems,’ she sneered.

‘It pleases you to make frivolous observations? So be it.

Nevertheless, since Hector’s death, I am officer commanding all Trojan forces in the Middle East; and I will not tolerate interference from a fortune-teller of notorious unreliability!’

That shook her. ‘How dare you? I am high-priestess of Troy!’

Well, she was, of course; but apparently nothing could stop Paris now.

‘Then get back to your temple, before you give us all galloping religious mania! I really cannot face another of your tedious tirades at the moment!’

The church’s one foundation rocked on its heels.

‘Father,’ she appealed, ‘do you hear him?’

Priam smiled into his napkin: ‘Yes, it’s most refreshing.

Perhaps there is a man lurking behind that flaccid facade, after all.’

Having got so far without being struck from the records, Paris went further. ‘And I would be obliged, father, if you would refrain from patronizing me in front of the prisoner!’

Helen, of course, didn’t say anything, but her looks spoke slender volumes. You could tell she was impressed. Priam, on the other hand, wasn’t. ‘The prisoner? Yes, of course, that’s it!

One pathetic prisoner, and he thinks he’s Hercules, already!

Success has gone to his head!’

‘Before you start sneering at the prisoner, you’d better hear who he is. This is Diomede!
Steven
Diomede, possibly – but a lot of us have damn’ silly first names. And if you’ll take the trouble to look in the Greek Army Lists, you’ll discover he’s quite a catch!’

Flattered, Steven decided to take a hand. ‘Which none but you could have caught, O lion of Troy!’ he said humbly.

This went down like ipecacuanha after sago! The audience choked as one.

‘Eh?’ enquired Priam, rotating a finger in his ear.

‘What was that?’ demanded Cassandra, rotating in her turn, but through ninety degrees.

‘Yes, I thought you might be surprised,’ said Paris. ‘Want to tell them about our little spot of sabre-rattling, Diomede?’

Steven delivered a modified digest of their late encounter.

‘We fought; I was defeated; I am not ashamed. There is none in all our ranks who could stand against the wrath of Paris, when he seeks revenge!’

‘You see?’ Paris appealed to the company at large. ‘I am treated with more respect by the enemy than by my own family!’

‘Perhaps they don’t know you as well as we do,’ explained Cassandra, helpfully.

‘On the other hand, perhaps they know me rather better,’

said Paris, imperturbably, knocking back a nectar in one, ‘and perhaps the time has come, dear sister, to revise your opinions?’

‘I am perfectly familiar with my opinions, thank you; and revision will not be necessary. And the first of them is that Cressida and Diomede have clearly met before: so how do you explain that?’

‘My dear old entrail-watcher, how in Hades should I know?

But since Cressida says she pops about in Time as her whimsy wafts her, I should think she’s met lots of people, haven’t you, Cressida?’

‘That’s right,’ said Vicki, rising to the occasion, ‘of course, I have. Surely, Diomede, it was at the Olympic Games, last year?

You won the Pentathlon, didn’t you?’

‘So I did – I mean, so it was,’ said Steven, ‘and then we all went on to Diana’s Grove, afterwards; and you told everybody’s fortune, I remember. What a night that was! All came true, too!

Goodness knows how you did it.’

‘Just a knack!’ said Vicki, modestly.

‘Sorcery!’ snarled Cassandra, reverting to her main thesis.

‘Quite so,’ said Priam. ‘Well, whether it’s sorcery, or palmistry, or tea-leaves, or just time-travelling, or whatever it is, we could use some of it right now. So, if you are who you say you are, Cressida, now’s your chance to prove it: you must either give me information which will lead us to a speedy victory – or, if you prefer it, you can use your supernatural powers to turn the tide of battle in our favour. It’s entirely up to you.’

‘I’ll do what I can, of course,’ said Vicki, ‘but you must promise not to harm Diomede.’

‘I suppose that could be arranged – or, at any rate, postponed. Tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give you a whole day to come up with something. How about that?’

‘Well I’ll try,’ said Vicki, doubtfully, ‘but it’s not very long.

What happens if I can’t?’

Cassandra knew the answer to that one. ‘You will be burnt, as a sorceress, a false prophet, and a spy!’

‘Well, as one of them, anyway,’ conceded Priam, reasonably,

‘we don’t want to overdo things. And now, unless Paris has any objections, of course, I think you should both be taken away!’

‘No, I must say, I think that’s very fair,’ said Paris, honour being satisfied. ‘I’m sure you’ll find the dungeons quite comfortable, Diomede. I often spend a quiet hour or two down there myself, when I want to get away from things. Yes, Cressida

– you’re bound to find them the perfect place for thinking.’

So off they were taken to the dungeons. And there, presumably, they still were.

21

Well, I was pleased to know they were still alive, of course; but I can’t say I liked the way things were shaping one little bit. You see, even if it were possible to get word through to Vicki that the Doctor’s fortunes were riding on a horse, so to speak – thus enabling her to warn Priam, and do herself a bit of good thereby, think what
that
would do to the Doctor! He was going to be inside the infernal machine, if you remember; so that if the Trojans decided to burn it – whoops! And if they just decided to leave the thing where it was, looking foolish, or dance round it jeering, then Odysseus was going to be extremely cross at the farcical failure of the plan; and I had every reason to know what he was like in that mood! I wouldn’t wish to be cooped up with him in a horse’s stomach under those circumstances, thank you!

So either way the Doctor was for it, it seemed to me.

But if I didn’t do
anything
, then the first thing the Trojans would do, once they realized they’d been tricked, would be to get their revenge on Vicki and Steven, because she
hadn’t
warned them. Never let surface charm fool you – they weren’t as decadent as all that, believe me! So it was all very difficult, as you will appreciate.

I couldn’t help wishing I hadn’t got myself involved in the first place. Zeus knows, it was nothing whatever to do with me; and I must say, the thought of Hesperides grew more attractive by the minute. But it was too late for that now. Here I was, a one-eyed poet, in rough country with lions, no doubt, about –

not to mention blood-crazed myth makers – and the only person at all likely to help me was the ineffable Paris, confound him!

Although
why
he should bother, I was unable to say: unless he thought he recognized a kindred spirit, who hated the war as much as he did? Yes, I take the ‘confound him!’ back. Because, at all events, he had bandaged my face with some sort of soothing herbs he’d found, and been generally pleasant; so I thought I’d better stick with him – at least until I saw my way clear to hopping over the horizon, under my own power.

And what was he on about now? Oh, my name? Yes, of course – and quite reasonable, really. But I’ve always found it a very good rule to be a bit cautious about handing out the label unless unavoidable – which is why, I’m told, to this day, nobody is entirely convinced that Homer ever existed – so I temporized, as they say. But the only thought which came to me, being rather below par at the time, was what Odysseus had called me, shortly after the operation. So, ‘Cyclops,’ I said. ‘As you observe, one of the Titans.’

Well, he laughed a good deal at that; having had a classical education, and being anxious to prove it, as one always is. ‘Oh, that’s very good,’ he said. ‘Cyclops, the one-eyed – couldn’t be better! Well, my little Cyclops, my tiny Titan, I think you’d better come back to Troy, and get that wound properly seen to, before you start to fester.’

Just what I wanted, of course; so I went along with that, all right. And then a nerve-scraping thought struck me: ‘You don’t mean by Cassandra, do you? Because if so, I’d really rather not: I’d sooner just decompose quietly where I am, if it’s all the same to you.’

Paris flinched in turn. ‘Great Heavens, no! Wouldn’t trust her to so much as put a snail on a wart! No – tell you what – that other young sorceress – what’s her name? – Cressida, that’s it!

She’ll have you fixed up in no time.’

I couldn’t believe my luck – or have agreed more! So off I went, with a comparatively high heart, prepared to give Fate another of my helping hands.

As officer commanding, Paris had no difficulty in getting us down into the labyrinthine catacombs below the city. Not the place I’d have chosen for a convalescent home, left to myself: our guttering, bat-attracting torches, showed only too clearly that several previous patients hadn’t come out of it too well. Now they stood skeletally in their recesses, grinning at nothing particularly funny for the rest of eternity: my friend’s ancestors, no doubt. Pleased to meet them.

Here and there we passed a guard, who’d been given the crypt concession to serve him right for something or other. And I noticed that, although saluting in a friendly enough way, they
did
seem rather surprised to see us. And then I realized that – of course! – Paris was supposed to be out and about on his Achilles blood-feud business – and
that’s
why he was so ready to help me: anything at all to postpone the fatal encounter! So I needn’t flatter myself that he enjoyed my conversation or company all that much. Which was something of a relief – because it meant I needn’t feel all that indebted to him: and to be going on with, I had quite enough people to try and help out of a mess, without worrying about what was likely to happen to Paris if the Doctor’s plan worked. No – he’d just have to take his chance with the rest of them, and the very best of luck!

We eventually found Steven and Vicki in adjacent cells with communicating grating; through which, as we arrived, they were swapping a certain amount of vitriolic back-chat, about whose fault it was they were so situated. Tactless of them, under the circumstances; but fortunately Paris was preoccupied with trying to find the right key, and didn’t hear half of it.

‘I know quite well how to look after myself,’ Vicki was saying, ‘there was no need at all for you to come galloping to the rescue! Who do you think you are – the American cavalry?’

I must say, I didn’t quite follow that, myself. However, I can only report what I heard.

‘All right,’ said Steven wearily. ‘As long as you’re quite sure you’ve got the message.’

‘What message? What are you on about now?’

‘I just want you to realize that you’ve been given exactly one day to find a way of defeating the Greeks.’

‘I’m quite aware of that, thank you!’

‘Good. And I hope you’re also aware that, twenty-four hours ago, the Doctor was given exactly
two
days to find a way of defeating the Trojans. Got that, have you?’

‘I’m not a complete fool!’

‘Good, again. Because in that case we can leave all the armies and generals and heroes out of the equation, can’t we?

All we have to remember is that you and the Doctor have got all of today to defeat each other! Happy about it, are you?

Confident?’

‘Oh, Steven! No – I
hadn’t
looked at it quite like that. Me having to beat the Doctor! Golly Moses!’

‘That’s very quick of you, Cressida,’ said Paris, getting the door open at last. ‘Yes, I’m afraid you have to be the doctor. I say, you really
can
read the future, can’t you? Well done! Yes, I’ve brought you a patient,’ and he ushered me into the cell. I’m afraid the poor fellow’s had his eye gouged out – so do what you can for him, will you?’

Vicki went pale – because I’m sure I wasn’t a sight calculated to amuse and entertain. ‘But I don’t know anything about -’ she was beginning, when I contrived to wink with my remaining eye

– not as easy as you might think – and the bright girl took the hint. ‘I’ll be glad to help if I can,’ she said, and fainted.
Very
helpful.

Well, we brought her round without too much trouble; and I was able to take her place on the improvised operating table –

a sort of ornamental rack, I think it was.

‘Good then,’ said Paris, ‘I’ll leave you to it. If you think he needs an anaesthetic, you can dot him one with that old mace there.’ I was rapidly going off him! ‘I’ll pop in later, and see how you are. Chin up, Sunshine!’ And off he toddled.

Hull Low, Young Lovers

To her evident relief, I dissuaded Vicki from attempting any miracles of modern surgery: so she did a little rudimentary face-mopping and brow-soothing; and, oh yes, she made me a rather sinister eye-patch out of something or other. And then I gave them the glad tidings about the wooden horse. It didn’t cheer them up any.