Doctor Who_ Battlefield - Marc Platt [44]
‘Knight Commander,’ she said. ‘The final confrontation is at hand. Where is my son?’
‘At the hostelry, my lady,’ said the young voice.
She stared at the reflection of herself in his mirrored umberere visor. She had wanted a son with a dedication to his duties as a prince, not a wayward who used his rank to behave like a noble ruffian. Time and again for a thousand years, Mordred’s indiscretions and immodesties caused embarrassment to the royal household: and always they seemed unerringly aimed at her.
She bestowed upon her son every exaltation that his position merited, but there were always a hundred young knights who were more worthy of all his honours and who showed their queen more dedication.
For all her powers. Morgaine could not choose her child. But she would unleash those powers on any other who stood in her path.
‘Bid the men be ready,’ she said. ‘Merlin has possession of Excalibur and must be dealt with.’
‘My lady.’
She pointed to the hard track that led into the trees.
‘Take your men along the road yonder. Seek out those that hold Excalibur and take the sword from them.’
‘And if they resist us?’ he said.
She knew what he feared, for she had faced Merlin long, long ago. Merlin’s deeds were ancient tales to this young knight, but she had seen the dragon that he summoned to Breceliande to melt the ice in which she bound him. The songs that were sung of his power over light, darkness and the elementals were all founded in truth.
She, Morgaine, the Rose of Hell, feared none of that infernal region’s horrors and infections as much as she dreaded one glance of Merlin’s mocking eyes.
But she must have Excalibur; no matter the cost. ‘If they resist you, give them an honourable death.’
By the time the Brigadiers had finished a round of briefings with Major Husak of the Czech engineering group and Lieutenant Richards, the Doctor was on his fourth cup of army tea.
When they emerged from the sealed end of the Command Vehicle after talks with Geneva, the Doctor had reached his fifth cup. Bambera seemed in an altogether better humour and Lethbridge-Stewart was wearing a satisfied smile which could only mean he was up to something.
Or worse, that there would be fighting soon.
The Doctor had packed Ace and Shou Yuing out of the way of any talk of combat. Although he suspected they would be saying something very unladylike to a couple of squaddies who had been eyeing them up.
He had spent a profitable time getting Ancelyn to talk to Peter Warmsly. The archaeologist seemed to be responding well to the knight’s tales, but the Doctor was unsure how deeply the man was still in shock.
Sitting tightly in a deep leather seat, Peter clung to Excalibur and said, ‘I keep thinking you’re true, young man. I think I’d like that. It’s better than reality, isn’t it?’
And there were tears welling in his eyes.
The Doctor pocketed a small notebook into which he had cribbled a few notes from Ancelyn’s stories. Just a few references to another universe that paralleled the one he knew; nothing to do with Merlin or an inescapable future that was getting a little too close for comfort. But better safe than sorry for all that.
‘Well?’ he said to either of the Brigadiers.
‘We have full clearance for whatever action we need to take,’ said Bambera.
‘Within the exclusion zone,’ added Lethbridge-Stewart.
‘Under UN resolution...’
‘Oh, never mind all that,’ snapped the Doctor. ‘As long as you’re not going to meet Morgaine’s forces head on.’ He noticed the two soldiers give each other the briefest of glances.
‘Good Lord, no,’ the Brigadier reassured 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