Doctor Who_ Companion Piece - Mike Tucker [14]
The clink of armour rang out through the crisp, sharp air as a squad of guards, splendid and sinister in coal-black breastplates quartered by a bold white cross, spread out amongst the townspeople. The unkempt mass of traders and townsfolk allowed themselves to be shepherded into a large and ragged group. Del Toro picked his way through the mud, staring into the eyes of the crowd before him, nodding with satisfaction at the fear visible there.
W ith a clatter of bolts and the creak of ancient timbers, a door in the cathedral wall burst open and an agitated cluster of priests, led by the puffing Bishop Agatho, splashed across the scrub. Del Toro gazed with amusement at the Bishop's face, which was wrinkled in distaste as he slipped and stumbled through the mud.
`Milord Grand Inquisitor . . . ' The Bishop was breathless, his face as purple as his robes as he exchanged the kiss of peace with his visitor. `The speed of your arrival took us unawares.'
`Indeed.' The Grand Inquisitor's voice was low and insistent, like the droning of a huge, rasping insect. 'W e were rooting out heretics on Torkus 3. It seems, however, that my timing was fortuitous. In a matter of moments, your flock would have taken matters into their own hands and I would have had no answers: He glanced across to where his guards were untying the Doctor from his execution pyre. 'It is difficult to extract information from a charred corpse:
`This . . . gathering is not of our design, stammered the Bishop. 'W e gave no permission. W e told the witness to watch, to wait'
`So, it seems that the people have taken it upon themselves to do the holy duty of the Church. How devout. The Inquisitor's gaze swept across the crowd. 'And by what means did you reach the decision that a witch was amongst us?' A ring incrusted finger stabbed out, pointing at a child in the crowd. 'You. W ho revealed this witch to you?'
A frightened mother clutched at her child. 'Please sir, he knows nothing, he's just a baby.'
let the child answer!' Del Toro's voice was vicious. He crouched down, forcing a smile to his lips. 'Come child. You have nothing to fear. Tell me.'
'Philippo, the bean seller, sir; the child's voice quivered. 'He told us:
(
Ah . . . Philippo, the bean seller . . . ' Del Toro straightened. 'And where is this bean seller now?'
The crowd started to mutter, glancing nervously at each other.
`I am not a patient man!' snapped del Toro. 'W here is he?'
The crowd parted and a terrified Philippo edged reluctantly forward. Del Toro regarded him with slitted eyes. 'Our would-be witch-finder. W as your fear so great that you could not wait for our arrival?'
`Forgive me, excellency, I tried to hold back my fear, to watch as I was told, but the witch sought me out. Picked me from the crowd. I feared for my life!'
`Sought you out, by God! You flatter yourself.' Del Toro snapped his fingers. 'Bring the witch:
The Doctor was dragged forward and thrown at the Inquisitor's feet.
`How do you do?' The Doctor croaked. 'Forgive me if I don't shake your hand, I'm a little . . . tied up at the moment. I'm the Doctor, and I really must thank you for a most opportune arrival. Now, if you could untie me, I have an idea about what is going on . . . '
`Silence, witch!' The guard captain gave the Doctor a sharp kick with
the top of his boot.
`Can we stop this witch nonsense, I'm really not . . . ' The Doctor never finished his sentence. At a nod from del Toro, the guard captain snatched a small metal cylinder from his belt and pressed it against the Doctor's neck. There was a sudden hiss, and the Doctor pitched forward onto his face.
Del Toro regarded the Doctor's prone form with amusement. 'This? The object of your fear? The most unlikely of witches, it seems.'
`His clothing may be strange, but the manner of his arrival . . . ' Philippo pointed towards the square. 'The Devil-box . . . '
Del Toro's head snapped up, his smile evaporating.