Doctor Who_ Battlefield Part 17

'Good Lord, no,' the Brigadier rea.s.sured him. 'Not without knowing their strengths.'

'I'm delighted to hear it,' said the Doctor. He helped himself to sugar, but found he had already finished the tea without it.

'Strengths are something that you can tell us about, Ancelyn,' said Bambera.

The Knight looked startled. 'My lady Winifred?'

Bambera's voice tone stayed urgent, but the manner cooled a little. 'We need to know Morgaine's resources.

How many men she has, their weaponry.'

'Purely for our own defence,' said Lethbridge-Stewart.

Ancelyn's n.o.ble face a.s.sumed an expression of deepest concern. 'My lady, is this honourable? Must I betray the very men I have served with?'

'Excuse me, gentlemen,' said Bambera. She took Ancelyn's arm and drew him as far aside as the Command Vehicle would allow, which was hardly aside at all.

Everyone heard.

'What are you playing at, Ancelyn? You're not a one-man army. And we're not playing knights in armour.'

'Then hear me out, lady.'

'Call me "my lady" again and I'll break your nose!'

Ancelyn turned from her, smiled bravely and addressed the group as one. 'I came to Avallion, your world, to answer Merlin's summons. If you are his followers then I shall add my strength to yours, but I cannot betray my brothers-in-arms.'

'You seem prepared to fight them,' said Lethbridge-Stewart.

'Aye. With all my heart.'

'Then why won't you tell us?' exploded Bambera. 'It's all right to use the information for yourself, is it?' Her irritation was already well stoked, but she turned and found a new coal to add to the fire: the Doctor was staring intently into his empty cup and smiling to himself.

To her astonishment, and perhaps his, the next voice to speak belonged to Dr Peter Warmsly.

'For Ancelyn, the fight is honourable. To betray even an old ally would be unthinkable. His whole training as a knight is embodied in that code. It's all formal etiquette, you see. Glorious stuff.'

'Thank you, Peter,' said the Doctor quietly.

'The Doctor speaks the truth,' said Ancelyn. 'And Merlin understands also.'

'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'That's something we should have a little chat about.'

But Ancelyn was already br.i.m.m.i.n.g with optimism. 'Be a.s.sured my friends, Merlin and Arthur will lead us to victory. For I can tell you that Morgaine's power of magic wanes like the moon in this place. This is alien ground for her. It was always so away from the world.'

'So she won't attack,' said Bambera. 'She'll be cautious.'

'She seemed fairly belligerent when I came across her,'

said Lethbridge-Stewart.

'That was always her way,' agreed Ancelyn. 'But caution is her watchword. She will not raise arms until she knows how it lies with her enemy and their weaknesses. She talks of honour, but her true way is treachery.'

'Good,' said Lethbridge-Stewart. 'Then it won't take many men to deal with her. Now what I suggest, Bambera, is this.'

'Brigadiers... both of you!' The Doctor was tapping his fingers against his knee in annoyance. His little chats always seemed to turn into full-blown war councils.

'Morgaine is a powerful adept in occult science and sorcery. She may even have power above that of an Ipsissimus.'

Ancelyn grinned again. 'Only you, Merlin, match her in the strategy of magic.'

'Really, Doctor?' said Lethbridge-Stewart. 'I thought you once told me there was no such thing.'

The Doctor looked fl.u.s.tered. 'Yes, yes. That's as may be. There's magic and there's "magic". And before you ask, Brigadier, an Ip.i.s.simus is the highest grade in power a magician, a human magician, has ever attained... so far. It makes any Magisters you may have come across look like hocus-pocus fairground performers.'

'Thank you, Doctor,' said Lethbridge-Stewart wearily.

'You're not up against a rabble of medieval va.s.sals,' the Doctor went on. 'Morgaine's people have the technology to jump between universes amd grow living s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps. More than that, I guess she can summon up powers you can't defeat with a bazooka.'

Ancelyn nudged Bambera and whispered gleefully, 'He knows all this already. It's his way to tease.'

For a moment, Bambera smiled. She looked at the Doctor with growing respect. 'But there's no way she can know our forces or strategy.'

'Oh yes, my lady,' said Ancelyn. 'She has her ways to make a tongue prattle.'

'But how will she know?' mocked Bambera. 'What does she have? A surveillance network of medieval satellites?

All my men are accounted for. No one's going to talk.'

Lethbridge-Stewart gave a sudden heavy sigh. As the others turned to look at him, he said quietly, 'Lavel.'

Chapter 3.

The column of men-at-arms had taken two full minutes to pa.s.s along the road.

As their marching faded, Pat Rowlinson raised his head above the level of the hedge. He saw the column making a right wheel into the road that led towards Vortigern's Lake.

'What is this?' asked Francoise Lavel. 'The village where time stood still?'

'I don't know,' said Pat. 'I don't know what's happening.

I thought you'd tell me that. Who are those people?'

Lavel shrugged. 'I don't know either. That's the trouble with UNIT. The work's so security-bound, sometimes even we don't know what we're working on.'

'Or can't tell a civilian,' he said knowingly. 'I was in the police force twenty-three years. I know what it's like.'

She winced with the pain of her leg.

'We'd better get inside,' said Pat. 'I don't like it out here. After last night, it's too quiet. I haven't seen a car this morning.'

'That'll be the zone sanitaire zone sanitaire,' she said. 'The exclusion zone. Has n.o.body told you?'

'n.o.body's told us anything.' He helped her along a path beside the hedgerow until they reached a freshly kreosoted fence. There was a gap halfway along, where it had been brought down by the storm.

'How much further?' she asked. She tried not to lean her weight on him, but her leg was painful.

'Just through here and up to the hotel.' As he started to help her through the gap, she stared back at the woods, looking for danger.

'Come on,' he insisted. 'I left my wife on her own.'

'You go ahead. I think I can walk.'

'I won't ask if you can look after yourself,' he said with a glance at her gun. 'I'll check the coast is clear.'

He made his way through the garden up to the hotel.

For a moment he paused as he found the back door wide open.

There was a stranger in the house. He wore a full suit of armour and a heavy sword at his belt. His hair was long, dark and unkempt. He leant against the bar amidst the empty pint gla.s.ses and stared at Pat with a sneer.

Elizabeth, who was pulling yet another pint, turned her head as she heard someone enter.

'Pat? Is that you?' Her voice was choked with terror.

'Elizabeth.' He pushed behind the bar and embraced her tightly. She was shaking. 'It's all right, I'm here now,' he whispered gently.

He looked at the saturnine stranger, who leered drunkenly back across the bar at them.

'Your wife?' said Mordred.

'Yes.'

The Prince raised his gla.s.s to them. 'With your aspect, it is well that she is blind.' He laughed and drained his beer messily. It ran in trickles down his unshaven chin.

'Get out,' Pat wanted to say, but the words cloyed in his throat..

'Speak up, landlord.' Mordred turned and sat in an armchair 'Do you not want my custom?'

There were footsteps in the hall. Lavel walked unsteadily into the lounge, her gun drawn. She saw Pat and said, 'Someone's coming. There's a woman in armour...'

She noticed Mordred and froze.

'What is this?' said the Prince. His interest was suddenly aroused by the intruder.

Lavel pushed back her hair and levelled the gun at him.

'So there is light in this grey world,' he said.

'Don't move.' She faced him awkwardly, trying to put her weight on her good leg.

'Am I to do nothing?' he teased. He stayed lounging in the chair, fixing her with his eyes, mocking her, daring her.

' Vous pouvez payer l'addition Vous pouvez payer l'addition,' she said tightly. 'Pay the bill if you like.'

'Light and fire!' He lurched eagerly to his feet. 'Come drink with me.'

'I said don't move!'

She was frightened and that excited him.

'I could wish for kinder words,' he said and stepped closer.

Lavel tried to steady the gun, but the fierce concentration of his dark eyes burned and beguiled her.

He reached for her weapon hand.

'Mordred. Who is this?'

A woman's imperious voice cut through Lavel's struggling thoughts. The pilot backed away and turned to cover the newcomer with the gun.

Behind the bar, the Rowlinsons cowered, innocent bystanders in the power play of forgotten beings.

A tall woman in golden armour was watching Lavel.

Her straight red-gold hair was like fine silk and reached to her waist.

A brief look of resigned contempt crossed Mordred's face. 'She's a warrior maid,' he said.

Morgaine stepped forward, keeping Lavel in the full glare of her scrutiny. 'A woman? Good. I would know the strength of their forces.'