Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [59]
Yong, who knew every detail of the pictures, crossed the black and white tiled floor towards a curtained‐off area of the vast room. A subdued mewing was coming from beyond the midnight‐blue curtains.
He swept his cloak behind him and put one exquisitely manicured hand on his hip. Beneath his robes, his firmly muscled body was encased in a black skin‐tight garment, shimmering like soft chain‐mail.
Yong pulled back the curtain and smiled again, his black, almond‐shaped eyes wrinkling slightly at their edges.
‘So,’ he purred, ‘you think to outwit me with your little games?’
Before him, stretched out upright on an ivory board was a tiny kitten. Wires cut cruelly into its limbs and its head was pulled back by a series of gold clips. It mewled pitifully as Yong stood before it.
‘You still refuse to acknowledge the will of Saint Anthony?’ hissed Yong, swirling his cloak impressively.
The kitten cried out pathetically, its bright little eyes wide open in hopeless appeal.
‘Then you leave me no choice.’
Yong produced a long, thin rapier from a nearby cupboard and held it next to the kitten’s exposed throat.
There was an urgent knocking at the great oak door and De Hooch bustled inside, his fat legs rubbing together grotesquely as he waddled across the room.
‘What is it, De Hooch?’ said Yong with a heavy sigh. ‘I am about to administer absolution – with extreme prejudice.’
‘An urgent matter, Magna,’ stammered De Hooch.
‘Can’t it wait?’ Yong eyed the kitten with sadistic interest. It opened and closed its mouth in silence.
‘It’s that woman, my Lord.’
Yong glanced at his second. ‘The one you’ve been keeping an eye on?’
De Hooch nodded furiously, his skull‐cap slipping backwards a little. Yong tickled the blade under the kitten’s jaw. ‘What has she done?’
‘I was about to bring her to your attention anyway, Magna. She had forgotten one of the precepts.’
Yong rolled his eyes with mock gravity. ‘Oh dear.’
De Hooch held up his stunted hands. ‘But now it is, worse, my Lord. She has… disappeared.’
Yong swept round, the light from the stained‐glass window glittering off his tautly muscled body. ‘What?’
De Hooch bowed obsequiously. ‘She was not at dawn prayer, my Lord. None of my men can find her.’
Yong’s expression softened slightly. ‘Well, this is a big – seminary, Parva. Why don’t you run along and see where she’s got to? Remember how much rejoicing there is in Heaven when one sinner returns to the fold. We shouldn’t be too harsh on her. After all, one’s faith is always being tested.’
De Hooch’s face fell, disappointed. ‘Of course, Magna.’
He began to back out of the room, keeping his fat little head low.
‘Oh, and De Hooch?’
‘Yes, Magna?’
‘When you do find her, be sure and cut out her tongue. Very, very slowly.’
De Hooch’s face split into a horrible smile. ‘Yes, my Lord.’
The doors closed behind him.
Yong raised the rapier again and laid it at the kitten’s throat. ‘Now then, where were we?’
He rammed the weapon through the animal’s neck until he heard the blade scrape on the ivory board behind. The kitten shuddered momentarily and then was still.
Yong pulled out the rapier, already bored. ‘You are forgiven, my child,’ he muttered without enthusiasm.
* * *
The Doctor breathed in sharply. The oxygen streaming into his bubble‐helmet was cold and invigorating but what had actually, literally, taken his breath away was the sight which met his eyes as he stepped out of the TARDIS. He was rather pleased that his jaded tastes could still be so stimulated.
Beyond the TARDIS, the vast blackness of space stretched all around, spattered with tiny stars. The Doctor looked about, his head swivelling within the helmet.
Below and around him floated a carpet of billions of tiny particles, stretching ahead like a circle of luminous dust. Every so often a larger object interrupted the symmetry.
To be within the rings themselves was like standing on a dusty golden