Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [75]
Polly shook her head but did not look round. ‘There’s no time.’
She began to search the room for a lamp but then, settling on the candle she had brought into the room, sat down on the window seat.
The King seemed baffled but amused by Polly’s behaviour. He smiled slightly to himself and looked up at the darkened ceiling.
‘I’ve received intelligence that I am to be r-rescued, is this not so?’
‘It is.’
‘And are you to be my rescuer?’
Polly turned at last. ‘No. I’m just the first part of the plan.
Once those two guards are out of the way, I’m to signal and the others will arrive.’
The King raised the glass of wine to his lips and Polly raced to his side. ‘I wouldn’t. It’s drugged.’
‘Ah,’ said Charles. ‘Of course.’
He settled back in his chair and folded his hands over his knee. ‘Tell me, madam. Is it not customary to curtsy in the presence of one’s monarch?’
Polly stopped in her tracks, becoming suddenly aware of the bizarreness of the situation. Eventually, she genuflected slightly and gave a little bow just to make sure.
‘You’ll forgive me, Your Majesty. But you are not my monarch.’
Charles frowned. ‘But are ye n-not an Englishwoman?’
Polly laughed and was about to sit down on a chair before her when her sense of protocol intervened. ‘Do you mind if I –
?’
The King waved airily. ‘It is the common lot, my dear. I can scarcely insist on formalities when the army plan to c-cut off my head.’
Polly sat down heavily, She was filled with a strange kind of remorse, as though she felt personally responsible for what would happen to this sad, quiet little man.
She looked at him, imagining how soon his head would be detached from his narrow shoulders, how soon those glossy curls of hair would be congealed with royal blood.
Shuddering, she looked away. ‘I’m English by birth, sir,’
she said at last. ‘But I have been away for a long time.’
Charles nodded. ‘Then perhaps you know little of the terrible pass to which I have brought my land.’ He glanced down and a look of infinite sadness swept over his face. ‘The land I l-Iove.’
‘I know enough,’ said Polly flatly.
Charles looked at her again. ‘And that is why you would help me?’
Polly didn’t answer at first. Then, reluctantly and without meeting the King’s gaze, she said, ‘I’m here to find my friends.’
Charles cocked an eyebrow. ‘Do you count me one of them?’
Polly smiled kindly. ‘I’m doing what I can to help.’
Charles bowed his head. ‘Then I am grateful to you. What is your n-name?’
Polly was on the move again, rising to her feet and resting her ear against the door. Charles made an impatient clucking in his throat.
‘Will you not rest a moment, madam? You vex us severely.’
Polly turned, looking slightly wounded. ‘I have to listen for the guards. As soon as the drug takes effect –’
. Charles waved his hand. ‘Yes, yes. But we shall not miss those great l-louts crashing to the floor, shall we?’
Polly moved back to the chair and sat down. ‘No. I suppose not.’
She sniffed and looked the King straight in the eye. ‘My name is Polly.’
Charles nodded. ‘P·Polly,’ he stated.
‘I must say you’re taking this all very calmly,’ she said, intrigued.
Charles sighed. ‘’Tis what I was trained to do, Mistress Polly.’
‘Don’t you get sick of it, though? All that regal-bearing stuff?’
Charles gave a rare chuckle. ‘Sicken of it? It is my life.
What else am I fit for if not to rule?’
Polly thought with sadness that the question was about to be answered with some finality. ‘And what will you do now?’
‘If I am rescued? Well, I fear we must know each other a little better before I impart all my secrets. But I shall not forget you, my dear. Nor the ray of hope you have afforded me.’
There was a heavy, distinctive thump against the doors.
Charles extended a thin finger. ‘You see, our friends the guards have d-dropped off.’
Polly jumped from her chair and carefully opened the double doors. Ancrom and Sam were slumped inside, mouths open slackly as they slept.
‘Right,’ cried Polly to herself and dashed back to the window. She raised the candle