Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers - Martin Day [2]
And the smell – the smell that greeted me was strong and primal.
The forest was on fire.
I stood in the centre of the village, turning to follow the gaze of those around me. High on the rising slope, almost exactly behind my dwelling, a column of fire twisted in the darkening sky. Trees crumbled into the white-hot flames, ash and burning leaves sparking with the flow of the wind.
Leading into the great conflagration, and arcing across the sky like a scimitar, was a line of reddened cloud. It looked to me like a leering grin, an expression of satisfaction as the trees succumbed to the fire.
‘What happened?’ I asked the stout herdsman who stood at my shoulder.
As he replied, I saw the flames reflected in his awestruck eyes. ‘I was tending my animals... There came a great noise from the skies, like a multitude of birds, or the very breath of God. I looked, and saw a star falling to the earth. When it touched the trees, they began to burn – as you see.’
Others nodded their agreement – it was as the herdsman had said.
I turned again to watch the conflagration. I remember only too well the last forest fire, and its awful touch as it raged against our village. If the wind turned towards us, and this time did not ease...
Petrov the metalworker, an enormous fel ow rendered black by the soot of his furnace, clearly had similar thoughts. He threw some dust into the air, and watched its course keenly. ‘The wind will keep the flames away from us
– for now,’ he announced loudly.
I was less sure. In my limited experience, once a fire like this starts it takes on a life its own, moving where it wants, devouring what it wants, and only showing mercy when God Himself wishes it so.
I looked back at the flames – just as they blinked into darkness.
A murmur went around the assembled villagers. What fire was this, that vanished into nothing in a heartbeat?
‘By the saints...’ I approached Petrov. ‘Have you ever seen such a thing?’
The big man shook his head. ‘A miracle. It is nothing less.’
I watched Alexander the village elder sink to his knees.
‘Thank the Lord.’
I let out a relieved sigh. ‘We should pray,’ I said.
‘No,’ said Petrov firmly. ‘There will be time for prayer – later. There may be smal er fires burning that we cannot see. We should take what water we can carry, some brushes. Who will join me?’
Most of the villagers held Petrov in such esteem that they would follow his burly frame to the gates of Hell and back. There was an immediate chorus of assent, brave words flowing forth from people who moments before had seemed resigned to the flames.
I was more cautious than the others, though wary of being called a coward. I became aware of people looking towards me, as if daring me to stay.
I too publicly assented to Petrov’s plan.
Alexander’s wizened face cracked into a smile. ‘You are a good man, Petrov. I shal pray for your safe return.’
Within the hour, the group of men was ready. I could have made excuses then. There were reasons enough to stay and, in time, my decision would have been forgotten.
But, more frightened of the word of men than the Word of God, I set out with them.
As I sit here in the darkness, as the shadows deepen and the wind makes the torchlight flicker, I fervently wish that I had not – or that the Lord could wipe these memories from my mind.
There are some things mortal man is not fit to know.
I
Tempestas ex oriens
Dmitri paced the room. His anger and resentment ebbed and flowed beneath his air of well-mannered authority.
‘Chernigov and Pereislav have already fallen,’ he said quietly, stopping for a moment to glance out over the roof-tops. ‘What chance have we?’
Although I didn’t recognise the names of the cities that Dmitri spoke of, I had little reason to think they were any smaller, or less well prepared, than the sprawling settlement in which we were trapped.
I looked