Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers - Martin Day [56]
‘You can’t do that,’ exclaimed Dodo. ‘We’re trying to help you as much as we can. And, if things were different, maybe...’
‘The Tartars sweep towards us, illness grips our people, it seems a monster roams this very building which I have sought to make a secure fortress...’ Dmitri managed an ironic laugh. ‘Even adviser Yevhen’s daughter is in the grip of some awful trance that separates her from us. I wish I could travel to that land of safety and sleep as easily as her!’
‘Look,’ said Steven, resting a hand on Dmitri’s arm. ‘The Doctor is the most incredible person I’ve ever met. He will do everything he possibly can to help you.’
‘And one or two things that are impossible,’ added Dodo, trying to lighten the mood.
Dmitri smiled. ‘I am sure you are right,’ he said, though his words carried little weight of conviction. ‘How is Lesia?’
‘I really don’t know,’ said Dodo. ‘I just hope your medical people can work out what’s wrong with her.’
‘It is a worrying development,’ agreed Dmitri. He lowered his voice. ‘And we must be wary. All creatures will endeavour to protect their young – but sometimes they only succeed in injuring those they most want to help.’ He stared at Dodo, his grave eyes underlining the allusion he was making. ‘Do you understand?’
Dodo nodded. ‘I’ll stay with Lesia.’
‘Excellent,’ said Dmitri, striding towards the door. ‘Come with me, Steven. There is still much to do.’
The robed man stared imperiously down at the soldier, who had remained on one bended knee at the bottom of the altar steps.
‘And this note came from adviser Yevhen?’
The soldier nodded. ‘I saw him write it with his own hand.’
The cleric turned the letter over between delicate fingers, as if the very words carried poison. ‘And the letter speaks nothing but truth?’
‘Forgive me, my lord. I do not know the contents of the note.’
‘You believe in God?’
‘Of course.’
‘In the glory of Christ, his saints and the virgin?’
The soldier nodded furiously.
‘And in the evils of apostasy, heresy and unholy ignorance?’
‘I am loyal to my Lord and my country.’
The robed man approached a candle that burned pitifully to one side of the great altar. ‘Bishop Vasil is not able to see to this matter himself, but he has made clear what should happen.’ He applied the parchment to the flame, which expanded and brightened greedily. ‘Adviser Yevhen suggests much the same thing. Listen carefully. This is what you must do.’
When Dodo returned to Lesia’s room Nahum was sitting quietly on a stool at the sleeping woman’s bedside. He immediately jumped to his feet, his face red with embarrassment – and his eyes wide with fear.
‘It’s OK,’ said Dodo.
‘OK?’ repeated Nahum, clearly not reassured in the slightest.
‘It’s all right,’ explained Dodo. ‘I know.’
The young man stared at her blankly, though this time Dodo sensed the ignorance was less than entirely genuine.
‘Lesia told me. About you and her.’ She stepped over to Nahum’s side, and extended a gentle hand to touch his arm.
‘You must be very concerned.’
Nahum glanced around the room, as if seeking reassurance that this was not a plot of Yevhen’s hatching. After a moment, he averted his eyes – shyness or fear, Dodo could not tell which
– and simply nodded his head.
Dodo perched herself on the end of the bed, and looked down at her friend. She seemed not to have changed, though that awful deathly look – as if the real Lesia had departed, leaving only an empty shell behind – remained as strong as before.
Dodo didn’t know what to say: she had barely even spoken to Isaac’s son before, let alone engaged him in discussions of life, love and death. So she sat in silence, glancing between Nahum’s downcast face, the swirling cloud patterns through the windows and Lesia’s unchangeable, empty expression.
‘Lesia and I grew up together,’ said Nahum after some minutes.
The interjection into the all-consuming silence was such that Dodo nearly jumped in surprise.
‘Really?’ she said.
‘Because of our fathers we played together,