Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers - Martin Day [61]
It was a sobering thought.
They travelled in silence, any attempt at communication being met with a threat of violence. The Doctor tried to watch the path of the sun behind the clouded skies but, even so, he had little idea of when they were captured, or for how long they had travelled.
They heard the Mongol army long before they saw it.
The senior Mongol soldier raised a hand, and the entire group slowed to a halt. They were atop a lush hillside, looking down over the dry, wide valley through which the Mongol army was moving.
The Doctor had seen many great and terrifying sights in his time, but this massed movement of men was amongst the most awesome.
It was impossible to even estimate the number of men and horses that moved implacably across the terrain. There were thousands of soldiers, their horses throwing up a cloud of smoke that obscured still more. It was, from this distance, an army of ants in a haze of its own creation – and, though the Doctor could just make out the start of the massed procession far over to his left, to his right the Mongols simply faded into the horizon.
At the head of the great horde he could just perceive soldiers riding in orderly ranks, the flags of the various clans visible as intermittent splashes of blue and red amongst the massed brown of armour and horse. Then came great swathes of packhorses, weighed down by equipment and spare weaponry, and then the artillery – literally hundreds of enormous, wheeled catapults and ballista. The great wooden machines rumbled forward like tanks, and were followed by a secondary army of reserve soldiers –
boys in training and foreign conscripts, the Doctor suspected.
Towards the rear were numerous wagons and camels carrying further supplies and supporting equipment. And, on the periphery of even the Doctor’s keen vision, came hundreds of flocks of goats and sheep. Truly this was an army prepared for everything, including the longest of campaigns. It was as if an entire country had upped sticks and moved en masse to invade another. The Doctor knew from his reading of Earth history that this wasn’t too far from the truth.
If the intention of this first sight of the Mongol army was to intimidate, it certainly succeeded. The Doctor glanced sideways at Mykola, and saw that he was pale and very nearly shaking with fear.
The leader of their Mongol captors flicked the reins of his horse, and as one the group swept down into the valley. The Doctor wondered how anyone was expected to find their way through the various groups and subgroupings of the army, but the man seemed to know exactly where he was heading. The Doctor also wondered about the chain of command – when was the order to stop issued, and how long would it take to reach the herdsmen many miles to the rear?
The massed ranks of soldiers were as impressive close up as they were from a distance, each face a picture of studied discipline and concentration. The noise, however, was almost deafening, and the Doctor was amazed that the Mongols put up with it.
Barely a word passed between the scouting party and the surrounding men. Instead, the group’s horses soon settled into the brisk trot of those that surrounded them. It was as if the Doctor and Mykola had been swallowed whole by the Mongol army.
Again the Doctor tried to establish dialogue with the Mongols, pleading for an audience with their leader, but his words continued to fall on deaf ears. There was nothing for it but to settle once again into the rhythm of the horses, to think longingly of whatever food and drink might be offered to them when they finally stopped – and to remember the casual slaughter of the Russian