Doctor Who_ Cats Cradle_ Witch Mark - Andrew Hunt [77]
Thirdly, I think I should get in touch with my office and try to dig up some facts. Finally, and most importantly, I think we should all get something to eat.
10:
Many Meetings
Wake up, Bathsheba,' the Doctor urged the young girl gently, ‘it’s time we set off again.'
Bathsheba shivered into wakefulness. 'My arm,' she said, 'it hurts.'
The Doctor took it in his hands and rubbed it soothingly, willing the blood to flow to her atrophied muscles. 'Is that better?'
‘Yes, it feels better now. Thank you.' She stood and walked over to her small horse which was lying against the side of the Doctor's mare.
'Hello, Bychan. Get up now, it's time to go.'
The pony looked up at her and then pushed itself up with its forelegs. It nuzzled her side as she struggled to climb on to its back.
‘I think we should follow these tyre tracks if we can,' the Doctor told her. She nodded.
'Why?' she asked.
'If there is someone from Earth here then I think I should I find him or her. Or them. Are you ready?'
'Yes, Doctor.'
They set off, the Doctor in front, and slipped out of the shelter of the hills and back on to the exposed plain. Bathsheba found it was increasingly difficult to distinguish the tracks from the surrounding landscape. Snow was continuing to fall and was smothering all detail. But the Doctor seemed to know where he was going and Bathsheba was satisfied with that.
She had great faith in the Doctor - he seemed like someone she could believe in. She had believed in other people: her father and David, before the accident which had taken them away from her in different ways; Herne, whom she had heard spoken of with respect because of what he could do for crops which were failing; Goibhnie, whom she still believed in, who would be able to help her when she eventually met him. She need so badly to believe that there was someone in the world who could cure her of her withered arm and could assure her that she wasn’t cursed. She had seen her brother killed by the hooves of beasts, her father had been killed by the claws and teeth of demons, and .Herne, by his own words, had left her nothing to believe in him for. The Doctor hadn't promised anything but he offered security in a harsh world and he was taking her to Goibhnie.
The plain began to be rolled up into undulating folds and the going became more and more harsh for the horses. Again and again there would be the tiresome climb through the snow up to a ridge where the wind would whip them with thongs of snow crystals. Then there was the tumbling descent through the heaped snow to the meagre refuge offered in between the folds. Even numbed by the cold, Bathsheba could feel the fatigue that her steed was suffering from. She began to long for the Doctor to bring the ride to a halt, but she could see that it was impossible - at the moment there was nowhere to shelter nothing that would shield them from the weather. She realized that the Doctor could no longer be following the tracks and she even started to wonder if he actually knew where he was going. Finally he wheeled his horse round and called to her to stop.
Are you all right?' he asked.
'It's so cold,' she complained. He searched in the pack slung over his horse's back and handed her a blanket to cover her shoulders. As an afterthought he removed his dark jacket and draped that around her as well. As his hand patted her cheek she compared its ruddy healthiness with the pallor of her skin.
How could he stay warm against the savage cold which chilled her inner core?
'We must go on,' he told her. 'Night is corning. There must be some shelter around. Maybe a farmhouse.'
I hope we find it soon,' Bathsheba said.
'I lost the tracks some time ago, I'm afraid,' the Doctor apologized.
'I thought so.'
They started riding again. At last they came to the end of the hills and the ground dipped away in a long curving sweep. They made the horses tread carefully, for the crust of snow could