Doctor Who_ The Awakening - Eric Pringle [53]
‘Oh, no.’ Tegan was shaking.
‘Brave heart, Tegan.’ The Doctor held her arm for comfort.
Jane was staring down the church in astonishment.
Apart from the trooper lying on the ground, it was empty now. ‘How could that happen?’ she gasped.
‘They’ve gone!’ Turlough’s voice mingled relief and amazement in equal amounts.
The Doctor nodded. ‘That fight cost a lot of psychic energy,’ he explained. ‘The Malus needs to rest. Let’s go before it recovers.’
Anxiously he herded them towards the door. They were all looking warily at the Malus: it was quiet for the moment, and seemed to he brooding, deciding on its next move. They proceeded carefully and silently, working their way down the aisle. But before they reached the door it burst open and Sir George Hutchinson came crashing through, brandishing a pistol in each hand.
His arms were outstretched and his face was twisted into a snarl. He swayed on his feet, and looked straight at the Doctor and the others.
‘It is time at last!’ he shouted. ‘I am here, Master!’
He had not even seen them. With glazed eyes he stared up at the Malus now, a look that was almost adoration.
This was the moment the Malus had been waiting for. It throbbed. With a vast, bellowing roar of triumph it shuddered and thrust forward, pushing out of the wall to greet its servant, who now stood inside the door looking bemused and dazed as if he was uncertain what to do next.
Ben Wolsey looked at the man who had used and betrayed his village, and frowned. Then, making up his mind, he said in a quiet, unwavering voice, ‘Let me deal with him.’
‘He’ll kill you,’ Tegan said. She was looking up the dark barrels of the pistols in Sir George’s hands.
But Wolsey was a man who, once he had come to a decision, was not to be put off easily. He pushed through the group and advanced slowly towards Sir George. ‘Sir George used to be a man of honour,’ he said, ‘He played the war games in the way they were intended.’
‘Forget any codes of honour Sir George might have once held,’ the Doctor, at his shoulder, advised him. ‘He’s now completely under the influence of the Malus.’
‘He’s still mortal,’ Wolsey said stubbornly. He fingered the hilt of his dagger.
Jane pushed through to be at his side. ‘Don’t be a fool, Ben.’
Wolsey turned towards her. His eyes were sad, but determined. ‘I have to try,’ he explained. ‘I feel partly responsible for what has happened here.’ He turned and stepped forward again to meet Sir George.
‘Ben!’ Jane cried out, but her voice was drowned by the bellowing of the Malus.
Now, man to man, Ben Wolsey faced Sir George Hutchinson. An area of quiet seemed to settle around them and keep all the disturbance at bay, as though they were standing in the eye of a hurricane.
‘Sir George?’ Ben Wolsey said gently.
The Squire swayed uncertainly. He heard Wolsey’s voice, but was unable to focus on it and decipher the jumbled sounds. He could not even find their source, because something terrible was in the way. Yet a voice had addressed him, and he had to answer. He tried, but the words would not come; his eyes bulged and he swayed on his feet.
But the pistols still pointed at Wolsey.
Will Chandler had not taken his eyes off them since the moment Sir George had entered the church. He felt nothing but hatred for this man, and now that the phantoms had gone and his old truculence had returned, the hatred was making him aggressive -- even courageous.
He tugged at the Doctor’s sleeve. ‘Be it better Sir George be dead?’ he asked.
‘Not if there’s another way,’ the Doctor replied.
Will was not convinced. He watched Ben Wolsey trying to talk sense to a madman, and shook his head. That, surely, wasn’t the way.
‘Sir George?’ Wolsey was trying again, and endeavouring to ignore the pistols waving in front of his face. ‘Do you understand me?’
The voice came to Sir George as through a dense fog. He tried again to focus on the speaker. ‘Who are you?’ he asked in a confused voice.
For a moment Ben Wolsey