Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [113]
Ben leapt to his feet, swaying woozily, and tried to focus on the recumbent form before him.
He raised his sword above his head.
‘This is for Captain Winter,’ he cried.
Stanislaus looked up and, in an instant, scooped up a handful of snow and hurled it into Ben’s face.
Blinded for a moment, Ben faltered and Stanislaus took his chance, gritting his teeth and stumbling back up the stairs on to the roof.
He had reached the landing when Ben came at him again, roaring with fury and jumping on to the Pole’s back. Ben managed to get his hands around the captain’s neck and brought him crashing to the landing.
Both winded, they struggled to their feet and tried to raise their swords.
‘God damn you, leave me!’ screamed Stanislaus. ‘Leave me!’
Ben shook his head, his lip and nose bleeding. ‘Not while there’s breath in my body,’ he hissed.
Stanislaus backed away towards the roof, swirling his sword around over his head and snarling. His feet found their way on to the slates and Ben advanced, thrusting his sword forward.
Stanislaus parried the blow and hopped backward on to the roof.
Ben raised his sword. This time. But would he do it?
There was a deep, rumbling roar, like distant thunder.
Stanislaus looked at Ben, his sweating face pale and panicked.
There was a strange pause, as though time had suddenly stood still.
Then the snow on the roof began to move, slowly at first but building into a slide, the tremendous weight of the accumulated drift packing and rolling together with a loud, grumbling roar.
As it slid from the roof, it exposed the glistening black slates in a broad, rectangular trail.
Stanislaus flung out his arms in a frantic effort to keep his balance and avoid the treacherous snow beneath his feet.
He shot a fevered look at Ben and then down at his feet as the rolling snow ploughed into him.
He fell flat against the slates and dug his nails into them, panting and screaming with fear. Then the torrent of snow overwhelmed him and he rattled down the roof, his boots clattering against the tiles.
The snow covered him and thundered to the eaves of the warehouse, then, with a great, satisfying crump, it hurled him from the roof.
Ben looked over from the top of the stairs and watched as Stanislaus hit the ground, his body smashing against the cobbles like a rag doll.
In seconds, the snow around him was stained a vivid scarlet.
Ben sat there for a long moment, feeling his heart rate gradually settle.
Then he sniffed and closed his eyes.
‘There you go, Sal,’ he whispered. ‘With style.’
An hour or so later, Ben walked into the TARDIS, instantly reassured by the hum of power and the familiar white, roundelled walls.
The Doctor was busy at the console, fussing over the controls. He looked up as Ben entered and flicked the switch that closed the outer doors.
‘Where’s Polly?’ asked Ben.
Jamie pointed towards the interior of the craft. ‘In her room. She’s a wee bit glum. Are you all right?’
Ben waved away Jamie’s concern. ‘I’m fine. What’s up with Pol?’
The Doctor looked up. ‘I’m afraid it’s my fault. I had to ask her to betray her friend.’
Ben was startled. ‘That Cavalier bloke? Is that how they knew where to find the King?’
The Doctor nodded. ‘He told us about the plot to kill Cromwell because he could no longer stomach the King’s methods. But he wouldn’t tell us where to find Charles. I knew there was only one way to ensure history was put back on its proper course and that was for Polly to follow him to their hiding place.’
The Doctor shrugged apologetically, his lined face crumpling. ‘There really was no other way.’
Ben sighed. ‘I’ll go and see her.’
He walked swiftly across the room and disappeared through the inner door.
Jamie walked up to the Doctor and patted his hand. ‘We all understand, Doctor,’ he said gently.
The Doctor nodded, his black fringe falling into his eyes, then he flicked another switch and the room was filled with the cacophonous sound of the TARDIS engines.
He sighed and stepped back from the console. Then he frowned, noticing a weight in the pocket of his