Doctor Who_ Cats Cradle_ Witch Mark - Andrew Hunt [38]
The diffuse grey sunlight of the Welsh summer had gone, replaced by a hellish glow emanating from the baleful red orb that hung malignantly in the dark, crimson-streaked sky. In the dim illumination it seemed to her that the contours of the valley were unchanged, but the trees which had filled it had squatted lower and sprouted canvas overhangs. And no longer was the valley a place of solitude, for at the very edge of the circle, their hands nervously clutching weapons directed at her, were a crowd of men. They wore tabards, apparently made from rough sacking and secured by thick leather belts around their waists. Their faces, yellow and stained and bearing all the signs of malnutrition, were clouded with fear and trepidation at the sight of this newcomer.
There was a movement in the air beside her and a hand clutched her arm tightly.
'- of the circle,' the Doctor finished, somewhat lamely. He shook his head as if to determine that everything was still in place. 'Oh dear, what an unpleasant way to travel. An unstable low-capacity system,' he muttered to himself.
'Come out of the circle, strangers.' One of the men, looking in better health than the others and had an intricate design woven in the shoulder of his garment had stepped forward. He was obviously the leader of the men around the circle and he emphasized his position of power by waving a loaded crossbow at them.
‘Are you alright, Ace? Everything as it should be?' the Doctor asked.
‘Oh fine,’ she replied. 'Why go to all the effort of getting drunk to get a hangover when I can feel this good just by wandering into Stonehenge.’
‘You’re all right' the Doctor grinned.
‘Come out of the circle, strangers,’ the man repeated his command. ‘I will not tell you a third time.’
The Doctor supported Ace as they walked towards him and made as if to doff his hat. When he realized that he had left it perched atop the stone he offered his hand in greeting instead.
‘I’m the Doctor – and this is my friend, Ace.’
‘Hi’
There was no response, and once they were out of the circle they were grabbed roughly. The leader took Ace by the shoulders.
‘Oi! Watch it!’ she shouted, struggling wildly.
‘Do you mind?’ the Doctor asked, as his arm was painfully yanked up behind his back.
‘Hold her still,’ the leader commanded and Ace’s cheeks were clamped between two heavily callused hands.
‘Geroff!’
He pulled Ace’s hair to one side and peered closely at her neck, bringing a flaming brand up to it so that he could see better. He gave a snort and let her go.
‘She’s free o the mark,’ he said.
‘So’s he.’
‘Well, strangers, welcome to Tír na n-Óg. Welcome to Dinorben. I am Captain Rhys of the Guard. I apologize for my heavy-handedness, but there are unusual times and naturally we fear contamination.
Now you will come with me. I must take you to be judged by the Tuatha.’
'Judged?' asked the Doctor quietly. ‘What have we done?’
‘You have come through the gateway,' Rhys answered, 'and your fate is uncertain. Come with me.'
'Professor,' Ace muttered angrily, 'I don't like this. What did he mean by "contamination"?' To her the word had unpleasant undertones - her mind fled back to a handsome young sergeant in 1963 who had wanted to keep the outsiders out.
'I don't know, Ace. But one thing's certain, they aren't going to let us back the way we came.' He pointed back to the circle where the men had formed into a double ring, facing both towards the centre of the circle, and away from it. 'I wonder what they're guarding it against?'
Rhys was becoming impatient and signalled for two men to start shepherding the Doctor and Ace along with him. With the stimulus of a sword against