Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers - Martin Day [67]
he ordered, turning away in disgust. ‘I shall decide his fate later.’
As the soldiers dragged the guilty man to his feet there was a commotion at the far end of the room. Another guard burst through the doorway, shouting wildly.
‘My lord! My lord!’ he cried – and for a moment I had to wonder if he was addressing his earthly master in excitement or his spiritual one in anguish.
‘What is it?’ asked Dmitri.
‘We have found the Tartar spy.’
They had discovered the man in a small ecclesiastical building on the edge of the city. Although the soldier went on to report that they still had not located the disgraced Bishop Vasil, these words were lost on Dmitri. I tried to think, for a moment, what finding the spy meant for him, and for his people. They had seen few, if any, non-white faces before; still less a representative of a race that, if the legends were to be believed, was terrifyingly subhuman. This Mongolian man would seem utterly alien to them.
Dmitri immediately set out to question the Mongol, asking that I come with him, and ordered that his advisers – even poor Isaac – join him immediately. In fact, the old man was waiting for us at the front of the building. I was not surprised to find him looking pale and tired, but the thought of meeting a ‘Tartar’
in the flesh seemed enough to reinvigorate him temporarily.
Our entourage strode quickly through the streets, but we managed some conversation along the way. Isaac thanked me again for his rescue. I stated that a brave soldier of Kiev had followed me – unwittingly attempting to undo the damage caused by his weak-willed companion – and that my escape from the labyrinth of tunnels between the cathedral and the governor’s residence had given me the knowledge to approach the room in relative safety. But Isaac would not countenance my modesty. ‘My family will be for ever in your debt,’ he said.
‘When... all this... is over, I shall recommend you for the highest badge of honour that Kiev can impart.’
Dmitri raised an eyebrow – clearly he could not even begin to think of a future beyond the Mongol attack – but said nothing.
‘My lord, do the patrols continue in search of the creature?’
Isaac asked of Dmitri.
Dmitri nodded. ‘The more so, now we know full well that the people of our city can be just as monstrous as any beast.’ He had ordered the house arrest of all the bishops and officers of the Church, having concluded that none could be trusted.
Contact with the outside had long since been curtailed; if the religious folk of Kiev wanted any contact with God, they would have to do the hard work themselves. ‘The soldier who betrayed us spoke of a translation, Isaac. The Holy Bible into the vernacular. Is this true?’
I saw Isaac pale, but he did not miss a beat as he walked.
‘What interest have I in the New Testament?’ he asked rhetorically.
‘I asked myself the same question. But there is the small matter of the Old.’
Isaac did not answer at first, and I imagined his sharp mind striving for some form of words, some phrase, that would deliver him from Dmitri’s gentle questioning.
‘Answer me plain, Isaac,’ said Dmitri. ‘I have no interest in the squabbles of the faiths – but I need to know why the established church is opposed to you.’
‘My lord... The Torah, the wisdom books, the prophets –
they deserve a wide readership.’
‘The First Testament of God’s message to mankind,’ said Dmitri with a curt nod. ‘You are treading on dangerous ground, my friend. Whatever our disagreements about the Lord, you must recognise that all biblical books are, in our land, also the stuff of politics.’
‘Of course they are political!’ exclaimed Isaac. ‘But not in the way the Church would have it!’
‘For what it is worth, I agree with you,’ said Dmitri. ‘But the Church is a powerful enemy – perhaps even I am guilty of overstepping the mark.’
Isaac was about to reply when we all noticed adviser Yevhen