Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers Part 8

Even so, he could not make head or tail of the text, so he came to me for a translation. Although it was in some obscure rural dialect I could tell immediately that this was no mere note of family history. Yevhen claimed that the doc.u.ment revealed many great secrets, specifically the tale of Kiev's heavenly guardian which had been brought to the city long ago while the cathedral was being built. He was not wrong.'

'What did the ma.n.u.script say?'

'Taken at face value, it seemed to confirm many of the details of Yevhen's claim. That an angel had fallen from heaven after some sort of battle against the Evil One; that this celestial creature was contained within a coffin or a casket, but that, though it seemed dead, it was in fact only sleeping. It was waiting for a time of tribulation, at which point it would wake and come to the defence of the people of Kiev.'

'The people who found this "angel". . How did they know all this?'

Olexander paused, trying to remember. 'The ma.n.u.script was not specific, though there was a suggestion that the angel had somehow spoken directly to the men who found its casket.' He paused, glancing around him as if to confirm that we were quite alone. 'The ma.n.u.script claims to have been written soon after the coffin's arrival. However, I suppose it may have been based on little more than the fanciful stories of Yevhen's forefathers, given permanence by the scribe to whom the task was entrusted.'

'And where is the casket now?'

'The terminology was vague,' said Olexander. 'The vocabulary, the syntax, deliberately obscure. But I believe that it referred to a series of tunnels and chambers set deep in the very foundations of the cathedral.'

'Do these tunnels exist?'

'Some believe them to, though I have only seen them mentioned in the ma.n.u.script.'

'They could provide some refuge from the coming attack for the people of Kiev,' I suggested.

Olexander smiled. 'I said as much, but Yevhen was dismissive. He may be right. Yes, a few hundred people, possibly more, could lock themselves away in the catacombs with whatever provisions they could muster. But what then? The food runs out, and they die. Or they emerge from the tunnels and find the Tartars patiently waiting for them.'

I nodded, taking all this in, though I could not see how either the tunnels or the casket could have much to do with Yevhen's plans now Or, indeed, Olexander's imprisonment. I said as much.

'Ah, I was coming to that,' Olexander said. 'Yevhen became obsessed with this angel. It was, he concluded, the only hope for Kiev, the only way we could avoid death at the hands of the Tartars. When I questioned the wisdom of trusting in so ancient a doc.u.ment, he told the ecclesiastical authorities I was a dangerous heretic working on translating the Holy Gospels into base Russian.'

'Were you?'

'No, the idea does not interest me in the slightest,' said Olexander. 'I am quite content with the Latin, the Greek. But my skill with languages, and my background within the cloisters, worked against me. Yevhen had no evidence against me, but there was little I could do to dispute the charges. Bishop Vasil sent entreaties to the prince, requesting my immediate imprisonment on charges of heresy.'

'You were imprisoned by a bishop?'

Olexander paused. 'I believe, in this world, it is important to distinguish between the true and holy Church of Christ, and the fallen and failing human authorities placed before us. It does me little credit to say this, but I am not sure that Vasil is on the side of the true Church.'

'Vasil and Yevhen seem to have a lot in common.'

Olexander nodded. 'And the one was often seen working for the other, though I would not like to guess which partner is the dominant one, and which the subordinate.' He turned to look at me closely, the troubled look in his now tired, milky eyes sending a s.h.i.+ver down my spine. 'If you have been imprisoned here on false charges I am sure it has something to do with one or both of those men, and that the intention is to divert attention elsewhere. While people mull over your guilt or innocence, one can only imagine the plans that Vasil and Yevhen will be hatching together. And the plans of these men are rarely for good.'

As the day pa.s.sed us by Olexander said he had become an expert at telling the time merely by establis.h.i.+ng the position of the sun as seen through the cell's single window we spoke further about what little we both knew of the situation in Kiev, and of the coming Mongol army. I was amazed by the breadth and depth of Olexander's knowledge, which didn't seem unduly stemmed by his incarceration. The old man replied that I would be surprised how much gossip one could hear even within a prison, but I had seen little evidence of this so far. This benighted, dark place barely seemed like the hub of Kiev, still less a place of fine conversation and fruitful innuendo.

I told Olexander of the intention to fortify the Church of the Virgin, and the plans that were being made to store food in case of a prolonged siege. As he spoke of other battles he had heard of or seen, I reflected that warfare in this era was often a drawn-out and methodical process. With only the most primitive forms of transportation available, the movement of armies was painfully slow. When they finally met, even a small skirmish could last for weeks and months rather than hours and days. I even got the impression that a kind of unspoken truce was often called at nightfall, or at the approach of winter, though Olexander was quick to remind me that the battles themselves were b.l.o.o.d.y affairs, an anarchy of indistinguishable foot soldiers hacking away at any movement in a desperate attempt to stay alive. There were, I reflected, no laws here concerning the treatment of prisoners, no arms conventions or pacts on the size of armies or the weapons they used.

In any case, the Mongols were reputed to take little notice of whatever 'rules' might exist. They were interested in nothing beyond their own honourable code, and their total success on the field of battle. Rarely were their sieges prolonged they were too well equipped, too clever, to be drawn into any extended, resource-sapping campaign. And the reports from the princ.i.p.alities they had conquered underlined the terrible efficiency of their advance thus far.

Later we lapsed into silence, seeming already to have exhausted each other's interest in conversation. There was much more he could have asked me, I suppose, about my home, and the life I had left behind, but Olexander was very precise in what he wanted to learn. He sat in a corner for some time, mulling over what I had said about Yevhen, whispering darkly.

A little later, we both looked up as we heard keys rattling in the lock. The door swung open to reveal a figure dressed in chain mail. I thought at first it was one of the guards with another gruesome meal for us to work our way through, though I could not understand why he remained in the doorway for so long. It was only when he removed his helmet of dull metal that I realised it was Mykola, the soldier who had incriminated me in the presence of the governor.

'What do you want?' I asked. To be honest, I expected him to act as a villain, come to explain his tortuous plan to me from the far end of a sharpened blade. Instead, and despite his grinning visage, I got the impression that he was a simple p.a.w.n in a wider scheme. Mykola was, like all good foot soldiers, following orders and I wasn't entirely sure that he understood their complexity.

As if a certain protocol had to be inaintained Mykola unsheathed his sword, which he wafted in my general direction.

'Tell me why we cannot open the doors on your blue box,' he said, completely ignoring Olexander who, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, was now cowering by his makes.h.i.+ft bed.

'I take it you've tried?' I asked. I thought of Dmitri's plan to guard the TARDIS, which was intended not only to preclude our access to it, but also to limit the unwelcome attention of his own people. 'Did you bribe the guards?'

Mykola shook his head against the distractions I was placing in his way. 'It does not matter how we gained access... Tell me how to open the box.'

'Why?' I queried. 'It's just a box. It's full of clothing, one or two bottles of fine wine, nothing more.'

'It is said that it is a means of transportation,' Mykola stated.

'Who told you that?' I asked with a grin. 'That's ridiculous! I mean, where are the wheels?'

'Wheels?' Doubt flooded Mykola's features, furrowing his brow.

'How else could a chest of that size be expected to move around? Think about it.' I took a step towards the man, trying to defuse the situation.

Mykola immediately raised his sword, angling the blade in my direction. (I didn't like the look of the weapon at all. It was not a thing of subtlety, a polished scimitar or beautiful Samurai sword, the triumph of its maker's art. It was a rough-hewn thing, almost too heavy to hold, lacking any semblance of a sharpened tip; in grace and form, it was a match for only a butcher's cleaver. And, whatever the stains along the blade implied, they were enough to make me avert my eyes and look at its owner.) 'I could kill you here,' said the soldier simply. 'I would say you were trying to escape. Away from the governor's residence no one would be on hand to disprove my story.' He flicked a glance in the direction of Olexander, who seemed to be studying the fine detail of the blocks that formed the ceiling over our heads.

'That's why you wanted me away from there,' I said. 'Down here I imagine you can get away with murder.'

'I do not want to kill you,' said Mykola.

'Who are you working for?' I asked, despite the sword that hovered close to my face. 'Adviser Yevhen?'

The soldier refused to be distracted. 'I have been sent to find a key. We have noticed some sort of lock on the side of the box.You must carry a key.'

'I don't have one,' I said. 'If I did, don't you think I might have used it by now?'

Mykola conceded a little ground, stepping backwards, though his words remained bitter with a.s.sumed bravado. 'I can kill you and search your clothing if you wish. Or you can give me the key.'

I took another step, forcing him back again. 'Don't you get it? The Doctor's the only one who can open the box. Even if I had a key, and I gave it to you, you'd not be able to open the TARDIS, let alone do anything constructive with it.' I risked another half-step, and Mykola moved back again. 'I suppose you could ask my friend Dodo whether she has a key,' I suggested lightly. 'She's right behind you.'

Mykola began to turn as Dodo brought a huge earthenware water jug down on his head. He grunted once, then slid to the floor with all the grace of a tranquillised bull.

I jumped over his body to embrace Dodo. 'Well done,' I exclaimed. 'Perfect timing!'

Dodo grinned, indicating Lesia who stood at her side. 'We thought we'd come along and see if you needed a hand.'

I grinned. 'I don't think I could have survived another hour.'

'You would have found a way,' observed Olexander from the far end of the cell. 'I did.'

I introduced Olexander to Dodo, but the old man seemed more interested in Lesia.

'Is that you, Lesia? My, how you have grown! And in just a year, as well.'

Lesia curtsied demurely 'You have been away from us for more than a year,' she said 'Really?' This revelation seemed to upset the old man, as if another certainty he had relied on had been shown to be false. 'It is so difficult to mark the pa.s.sing of the days, months and seasons. And yet I remember coming here as clear as this morning's sunrise.' Something like tears p.r.i.c.kled at the corners of his rheumy eyes.

I turned to Dodo, impatient to find how she came to be here. 'How did you get away from the governor's residence?' I asked.

Dodo couldn't help but laugh. 'Lesia knows the building like the back of her hand she used to play in it as a child. It's riddled with tunnels and little pa.s.sages that don't really go anywhere. She told me about a sort of chute that leads from one of the main corridors into the servant's quarters. From there, it was easy to get out through the tradesmen's entrance.'

'But how did you evade the guards?'

Dodo looked puzzled. 'There was a young guard a.s.signed to us. I happened to mention to him that, where we come from, women's skirts are a little shorter.' She paused. 'Well, quite a bit shorter.'

'I was intrigued,' said Lesia. 'I felt it only appropriate to ill.u.s.trate!'

Dodo continued. 'While the guard was looking at Lesia, I smacked him over the head with some crockery.'

I glanced at the comatose soldier at our feet. He grunted, rocking his head from side to side.

'I should set up as a neurosurgeon,' I joked. 'With you around, I could make a fortune.' I led the others towards the door. 'We ought to be going. How many guards are out there?'

'None,' replied Lesia. 'They seem to have been sent away.'

I nodded. 'Allowing our friend here to get all heavy without interruption.'

As I headed for the door Olexander exclaimed 'Where are you going?'

'Anywhere but here,' I replied. 'Come on.'

'But I can't come with you!' said the old man, genuine anguish creeping into his voice. 'Unless my reputation is restored, I cannot leave this place. Without my good name, I am as nothing in the city of Kiev.'

Lesia turned to him. 'But you must come. I have missed you greatly. You cannot rot away in here!' Her affection for Olexander was clear. Given the strength of her reaction, I came to wonder if she had been told he was dead rather than iinprisoned.

'I must submit myself to the authorities,' said Olexander.

'But you go, Steven. Clear your name from without while I work from within to clear mine.'

'Are you absolutely sure you won't come with us?' I asked, glancing at the unconscious form of Mykola. The soldier was stirring again.

'You go,' said Olexander firmly. 'I have welcomed your presence, however brief. I sense that things are moving, in the city and beyond events we may or may not be able to control.

We all have our roles to play, our fates to uncover.'

He embraced Lesia warmly and then shooed us away. As we ran through the deserted corridors, I couldn't help but wonder how-the soldier would react when he came to and found one prisoner escaped, and another sitting at his feet and looking calmly back at him with those old but wise eyes.

Even though the other soldiers had been sent away, I was surprised that we didn't encounter a soul as we made our way to the gated entrance to the prison. I suspected that, perhaps, with human resources very much at a premium, all the other prisoners were sent to work on the fortifications during the day. Olexander was too old to partic.i.p.ate and whoever had arranged for Mykola to ask about the keys to the TARDIS clearly had other plans for me.

'We must get back to the residence of the governor,' said Lesia. 'Even if the guard we tricked is embarra.s.sed into silence, my father will notice that I am gone.'

'I'm sorry to have to say this,' I said, as we sought sanctuary in the deep shadows of the city's walls. 'But I think you should keep an eye on your father. Something is going on here, and Yevhen is at the root of it.'

Lesia nodded curtly without a word.

'Leave it to us,' said Dodo.

'Thank you for rescuing me,' I said.

'Try not to get in trouble,' warned Dodo. 'We don't want to have to do it again!'

'Where will you go?' Lesia asked.

VI.

Rosa rubicundior, lilio candidor, omnibus formosior, semper in te glorior Night had fallen. The Doctor and a group of soldiers a.s.sembled in the shadows of the great gates of Kiev. The men whispered nervously in the light of enormous guttering torches as they sought to rea.s.sure the horses; only the Doctor, his long white hair flowing in the bitter breeze, seemed impatient to be off.

Ma.s.sed footfalls alerted the Doctor to the arrival of Dmitri and his retinue of guards.

'I have grave news,' announced the governor, drawing the Doctor to one side.

The Doctor arched his eyebrows. 'Really?'

'Your friend has escaped from prison.'

The Doctor's face fell. 'I am sorry,' he said. 'Steven is clearly frightened. I implore you not to take that as a sign of guilt.'

Dmitri lowered his voice. 'His flight raises all manner of suspicions in my mind,' he said. 'I am told that when the escape was finally noted the building was almost completely deserted.

The soldiers say they were sent away by Mykola, who himself was discovered, unconscious, in the cell. He told some story of the black arts, which I do not countenance. Suspicion points instead to treachery, possibly to Yevhen, and perhaps even to an attempt on the life of your friend.'

'Perhaps Steven is safer now than within the walls of your prison,' noted the Doctor.

Dmitri nodded. 'Indeed. I shall not hunt for him my soldiers are, in any case, required elsewhere. But I have ordered that Mykola lead your expedition to the Tartars. He will join us soon.'

'Do you think that sensible?'

Dmitri extended an arm towards the Doctor, perhaps the closest he had yet come to a sign of affection for the traveller.

'You are wise enough to watch for Mykola's trickery. Pray that I am wise enough to do the same with Yevhen.'

The Doctor nodded. 'I understand.'

'I am hopeful of your success with the Tartars,' said Dmitri, more loudly and for the benefit of the soldiers.

'It will be a challenge,' said the Doctor. 'I must first of all win their trust, their respect.'

'You already have mine,' said Dmitri.