Doctor Who_ Bunker Soldiers - Martin Day [77]
‘... there is no hope of a political settlement.’ concluded Isaac.
Dmitri clamped his hands over his ears, as if he no longer wanted to hear any of it. ‘Take this food away,’ he said. ‘Feed it to the swine!’
‘You can’t throw something away just because you don’t like it!’ exclaimed Dodo, irritated again.
‘I can do whatever. .’ Dmitri’s voice trailed away, and he looked up suddenly. Dodo shrank back from his bloodshot stare, his fixed expression. ‘Why, of course!’ he exclaimed, a strange delight gripping his features.
‘My lord?’ queried Isaac, wary of this sudden change of mood.
‘The siege engines,’ Dmitri continued, his eyes blazing. ‘How many are ready?’
‘A handful,’ said Yevhen.
‘They will suffice. And the bodies of the Tartar spies?’
‘Where you left them, I imagine,’ said Isaac bitterly.
‘Good, good! This is what we shall do.’ Dmitri spread his hands over the table top as if unfurling a grand and mapped-out plan. ‘We shall load the corpses of the dog-faced Tartars into a trebuchet, and hurl them over the city walls. Their shattered bodies will be a testimony to our intent – our intent to fight to the last man!’
‘Do not compound your folly,’ warned Isaac with a gravity that was rare before the governor. ‘This action will only inspire the Tartars to greater fury!’
‘And that will not be the end of it,’ Dmitri continued, not listening. ‘Order the soldiers to search the streets, the church yards, the room young Dodo has told us of. Find every corpse riddled with the illness. Catapult the refuse over the walls!’
‘That’s monstrous!’ said Dodo.
‘It is war,’ said Dmitri simply. ‘With the corpses disposed of, we may yet survive this disease. And it is possible that the illness will grip the Tartars as surely as it has decimated our own people.’ For a moment, he sounded as if he was extolling some golden age, some sure way of escape. Then he sighed again, and the bitterness returned to his voice. ‘Perhaps the disease will consume us all, and death will welcome Russian and Tartar with equal delight!’
Steven was the first to get to his feet. ‘We’ve got to tell Isaac and the others,’ he said.
‘Tell them what?’ asked Nahum.
‘Well...’ Steven paused, trying to unravel what they had witnessed. ‘That we saw the monster, or whatever it is.’
‘We saw Lesia,’ said Nahum abjectly. ‘The beast has swallowed her whole.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Steven. ‘That thing looked like Lesia but it wasn’t really her. When you first saw the beast it resembled the cook, remember.’
‘Whatever it is, it has been hiding in the catacombs, but has now returned.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Steven.
‘But you saw it with your own eyes!’
‘What I mean is,’ Steven said, ‘I’m not sure it has been in the catacombs all this time. We’ve assumed it has because there have been no further attacks.’
Nahum shook his head, not following Steven’s argument.
‘Then where has it been?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Steven. ‘As you said, we saw it with our eyes. That thing looks like Lesia – it might have been under our noses all this time!’
Comprehension began to dawn on Nahum’s face. ‘It was not Lesia asleep on the bed.’
‘Perhaps not.’
‘So she might still be alive – and elsewhere!’ Nahum made as if to begin the search immediately.
Steven put a calming hand on his arm. ‘First we should tell the others what we’ve seen – that this monster can impersonate Lesia and, for all we know, other people. Then perhaps we will have time to search for her.’
The Doctor’s discussion with Mongke and Bishop Vasil was interrupted by a strange whistling sound, carried to them by the strong autumn winds. It originated in the city and, as the three men turned, it came again.
They watched as a flurry of black dots seemed to hurl themselves over the walls of Kiev, landing near the group of Mongol soldiers stationed in the valley. A pause, as some machine was reset and refilled with its seemingly human cargo, and then the flurry resumed.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Mongke. For once, it seemed, something had taken him by surprise.