Doctor Who_ Byzantium! - Keith Topping [53]
'Great,' Ian said fatalistically. 'I mean, that's just great, isn't it?
Every time my life seems on the verge of being sorted out, these animals come crawling out of the woodwork and start messing things up with their plans and their plots and their sneakiness. Why won't they just leave me alone?'
`Because they fear you, young Ian Chesterton. They fear the intelligence and the honesty that you have brought with you as your baggage to Byzantium.'
`That's logical,' Ian noted sadly. The intrigue of the praefectus's household did both fascinate and repulse Chesterton, it was true. It hadn't taken Ian long to develop for himself a reputation around the villa as a great entertainer and orator who had a wealth of folk tales previously unheard. He was spending as much time in the company of Fabulous, Drusus and Gemellus as he could, while attempting to fight off the advances of Jocelyn, Antonia and (to a lesser extent, since their talk the day before) Felicia.
And that was where the real hard work started.
As he continued to bemoan his lack of fortune to Fabulous, the door to the library opened and Ian threw himself dramatically to the floor, instinctively crawling under the table fearing, after Fabulous's revelations, that the new entrant was either an armed assassin or a spurned potential lover. He didn't particularly want to face either right now.
When there was no reaction after a few seconds, he popped his head out from beneath the table to find Gemellus looking at him quizzically.
`Sorry,' said Ian. 'I'm just having a very bad day.'
`Then now would, perhaps, be an inopportune moment to carry out the task that I am commanded to do by my praefectus?'
asked Gemellus.
`That depends,' replied Ian.
`Thalius Maximus wishes an audience with his guest.'
Ian nodded and emerged from the dusty floor.
The day before, on their first meeting, Ian had told the praefectus a few stories from his travels, reducing the tale of the Daleks and the Thals to a parable about fear of the unknown. A couple of pieces of cod Shakespeare from his repertoire, singing an a cappella Irish folk song and one or two knock-knock jokes had completed the act and, to Ian's immense relief, Thalius had been extremely taken with the young scribe from Londinium.
These were people, Ian mused, who had never heard Carmina Burana, or Faure's Requiem, or Bolero... Or 'Brand New Cadillac' for that matter. Who had never been exposed to Shelley, Byron or Tennyson. Who had never seen The Morecambe and Wise Show.
He had a whole lifetime of important things to teach the praefectus of Byzantium and his minions.
`He wants to give you something,' Gemellus added. 'I do not know what it is, he would not tell me.’
Ì hope it's different to what his wife wants to give me,' Ian added, cynically.
The praefectus was reading from a lengthy scroll when Ian and Gemellus entered his atrium. For several seconds he was, seemingly, too engrossed in its contents to look up and acknowledge their presence. Then he paused, rolled up the scroll and handed it to the young legionnaire standing beside him. `Tell the general...' T h e r e wa s a l o n g p a u s e b e f o r e h e c o n c l u d e d , ' t h e r e is no message. Just thank the general for his most perceptive comments.’
The soldier clicked his heels together and said 'Hail!' which reminded Ian of exactly how much Nazi Germany owed to the Roman Reich. Thalius, meanwhile, with his other business concluded, wore a beaming smile and was ushering Gemellus and Ian in to join him.
`My good and dear friends,' he said convivially.
`Gemellus, I am pleased to see that you have brought our cousin from Britannia to us once again. May the Gods look kindly upon you, Ian Chesterton.'
Ian nodded as he and Gemellus sat besides the praefectus. Thalius clapped his hands together and Drusus swept majestically into