Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [101]
‘Clown,’ he rumbled, ‘you are dead!’
Raising the sword ready for the first slashing blow, he advanced across the ring.
The Doctor held up his hand. ‘Wait!’ he said.
‘Why do you stop me?’
‘Do we have to fight?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
Jenhegger looked puzzled, as if this was a question he had never considered before. ‘If I do not,’ he said slowly,
‘they will kill me.’ He frowned. ‘And you make a clown of my mother,’ he added.
‘Not I, my friend,’ said the Doctor. ‘Very well, so be it.
You will not attack me before I am ready?’
Jenhegger grunted. ‘We kill each other, but we do not cheat’
‘Thank you,’ said the Doctor, and pulled off the ginger wig, which he dropped with the rolling pin into the pit of the Toad. The dame frock followed, to be torn to pieces by the infuriated amphibian below.
Jenhegger watched in puzzlement as the Doctor dragged off the elastic-sided boots. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I have no wish to mock your mother. If I am to face death, it will be as myself. Besides, this ridiculous footwear would trip me up.’
The actions of the Doctor, who was by now clad only in his underpants, were highly unpopular with the spectators.
One in particular, the Chairman of the Parakon Corporation, was shouting at the top of his voice, over the crescendo of catcalls and jeering, for the Doctor to stop what he was doing and fight.
‘Your boot has hit the Toad in the eye.’ said Jenhegger, apparently still bewildered by the uncommon turn of events. ‘You’re making it very angry.’
‘I think I’m making Chairman Freeth even angrier,’
said the Doctor. And indeed, he could be seen jumping up and down, insofar as his hulk would allow, and screaming with rage: ‘What are you waiting for, Jenhegger? Kill him!’
The perplexed face cleared. The sword was lifted once more. ‘Are you ready now?’
The pale wiry body of the Doctor straightened. He raised his hands and settled into a fighting position.
‘Ready,’ he said.
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘What’s happening? Please tell me! Please!’
Tragan gave an irritated shake of his head – and then relented. ‘Nothing very much,’ he said. ‘They’re slowly circling each other. I can’t think why Jenhegger doesn’t attack. One stroke would do it.’
Sarah’s anguish was such that she could hardly bear to listen. She wanted to know but dreaded to hear. Where was the Brigadier? Had he heard her plea for help? And even if he came to the rescue, how could he be in time to save the Doctor?
‘They’re speaking to each other again. I can’t hear what they’re saying. I’ll switch to the Jenhegger channel. It’s a pity the Chairman didn’t see fit to implant transmission needles in your friend; I should have enjoyed experiencing his death. Ah, that’s better!’ And to Sarah’s chagrin, he lapsed into his former absorbed silence.
‘Come and fight, coward! Come and taste Jenhegger’s sword. Or are you too terrified?’
Jenhegger had never encountered an opponent like this.
Why did he not seem frightened? His air of confidence, the aura of skill which surrounded him, quite confounded the gladiator.
‘It may be your custom to taunt one another before engaging,’ replied the Doctor, ‘but I can see very little advantage to you on this occasion.’
Why was he not afraid?
‘Why should I be afraid?’ the Doctor said, as if he had read the other’s mind. ‘When I stepped out here, my life ended. If I return alive, I shall be returning from the dead.’
He was just trying to confuse him by talking nonsense!
‘Enough! You talk too much!’
‘So I have been told.’
‘Die then!’
At last Jenhegger attacked. Charging towards the Doctor with an inarticulate battle-cry of frustration and rage, he swung his sword to the side in anticipation of his famed decapitation blow.
But when he delivered it, somehow the Doctor was no longer there to be decapitated. He had stepped