Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [5]
A low murmur came from the men, almost drowned out by the jostling of their horses.
Pride raised himself up in his saddle and bellowed at them.
‘I said are you all clear?’
His rasping voice rang with authority and this time a great shout of assent came from the troopers.
Pride took a deep breath, feeling the frosty air sting his throat.
‘For God and the Army!’ he yelled.
The soldiers cheered. Pride smiled, watching as the settling snowflakes bled the colour from the men’s uniforms.
He jabbed his spurs into the flanks of his horse and the beast turned slowly about. Then, crossing himself, he lowered his voice to a grave whisper.
‘Then let us get on with this business.’
The TARDIS crew padded through the rapidly drifting snow, their footsteps muffled, their shoes collecting great lumps of the stuff like extra soles.
The alley had broadened on to a much bigger street, crowded with people, all hurrying to find shelter from the weather. Only a few stray beggars, huddled in corners, seemed forced to remain outside.
The Doctor was already some way ahead of his companions, his quick gaze taking in the details of the buildings around them.
‘Clearly Earth again,’ he said with a small sigh, stooping to examine horseshoe prints in the snow.
‘And the middle of winter,’ moaned Polly, pulling her cloak tightly around her.
Jamie laughed. ‘Och, lassie, this is nothing. One time me and the Laird were stuck out on the moor for nigh on three days –’
‘Look!’
Ben’s voice cut across Jamie’s reminiscence and everyone turned to see the young man pointing over their heads towards a familiar black silhouette.
The Doctor scurried to Ben’s side. ‘What is it?’
He peered at the shape on the skyline and then nodded.
Ben’s face was wreathed in smiles. ‘It’s the Tower, innit, Doctor?’
The Doctor frowned. ‘It would appear to be.’
Ben almost punched the air. ‘The bloomin’ Tower. I don’t believe it. We’re home!’
Polly grinned and looked longingly over at the familiar bulk of the Tower of London. It was a landmark she had only ever visited as a child, a thing for tourists that was glimpsed occasionally out of the window of a train. But now it seemed to be a perfect symbol of all that she missed about her own time. Safe. Dependable. London!
‘Oh, Ben,’ she cried. ‘Do you really think so?’
Ben folded his arms and assumed his most stoic expression. ‘It’s got to be, innit, Duchess?’
The Doctor shook his head and wet snowflakes tumbled on to his cloak. ‘Now wait a minute, Ben. You’re forgetting that the TARDIS transports us through time as well as space.
Look around you.’ He swept his arm around in a circle. ‘Do you see any other familiar things?’
Ben looked about quickly, impatiently, anxious to be right.
Polly looked too. There was something wrong. She knew it. Everything was too old. There wasn’t a sign of modem life.
Her shoulders sank and she moved forward on her own.
Ben shrugged. ‘No, I can’t say as I do. But that doesn’t matter. I mean, what’s a few years here and there?’
The Doctor looked unexpectedly grave. ‘Oh, quite a bit, I should say.’
Jamie stamped his feet on the ground and hugged himself, wishing he was wearing rather more than a kilt beneath his cloak. ‘What year is this then, Doctor?’
The Doctor let his fingers trail over the rotting brickwork of the nearest wall. ‘Well, judging by these buildings I should say –’
Horses’ hooves thundered on the ground and the air was suddenly full of clamour as a troop of soldiers stormed through the street.
Jamie leapt forward and grabbed Polly by both her arms.
He almost fell backward, dragging her with him and flattening them both against the wall. She had missed being crushed by a matter of moments.
The Doctor and Ben took their cue and threw themselves into the nearest doorway as the horsemen passed by, blurred into one great silver and buff shape by the speed of their motion.
When the last of them had gone, the Doctor stepped forward, his face beaming, his eyes sparkling. He clapped his hands together in childlike delight.
‘Oh, I say!’ he cried.