Doctor Who_ Wolfsbane - Jac Rayner [5]
„Fiend in human form!‟ yelled a man from the back of the crowd.
„Oh, I say,‟ said Harry, unhappily, wishing desperately to see the tall, authoritative figure of the Doctor striding through the mob to disperse it with a few well-chosen words.
„Bad enough you taking our sheep, but you can‟t stick to that, oh no. You‟re getting a girl now. Well, we‟ll not be having that no more...‟
And the pitchforks were getting lower and lower.
„Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!‟
Harry had been hoping so hard to see the Doctor that for the briefest instant he thought it was him, come to save the day and put all to rights. But no, this was a stranger. Harry‟s heart warmed to him immediately, though, just on the evidence of all those „stops‟.
The new arrival pushed his way through the crowd, somehow avoiding every pitchfork tine seemingly without even glancing down. He walked straight to the girl, and knelt by her side.
The weapons-bearing men looked somewhere between furious and sheepish, perhaps against their wills finding themselves unable to continue with their violent plan.
Perhaps the man was of the local gentry, to command such respect. He certainly wasn‟t a man of the soil: soft-spoken and pale-skinned, and dressed in silk and velvet.
„I‟m sorry, she‟s dead,‟ Harry told the man. „There was nothing I could do. I‟m a doctor,‟ he added for clarification.
How extraordinary,‟ said the man, shooting Harry a friendly smile, „so am I.‟ He turned back to the body. „I know her,‟ he said.
„Oh, I say,‟ said Harry, unsure how to respond. „I am sorry.‟
„Miss Ryan,‟ the man said loudly, and the crowd murmured unhappily. „Those look like claw marks,‟ he added, continuing to examine the body.
„Yes, I thought so,‟ Harry agreed. „Odd, though: heard her scream, wounds still running warm, but never caught sight nor sound of a beast getting away.‟
„Maybe e didn‟t get away!‟ called a pitchforker. „Maybe e‟s standing right „ere in front of us now!‟
The stranger stood. „Take a look at these wounds, William Pennarth. Claw marks, teeth marks. A man didn‟t do this.‟
There was a rumble in the crowd. „Who says he‟s a man?‟
yelled someone.
„Moon‟s nigh-on full,‟ called another.
„Look at „is whiskers!‟ cried a third.
Harry put a self-conscious hand to his face. „I don‟t quite -
you know,‟ he murmured to the stranger.
The stranger answered beneath his breath, barely moving his lips. „They think you‟re a wolf-man. A werewolf. But it‟s fine. Just follow me.‟ He pointed up through the naked tree branches. „Look! The moon‟s virtually full, as Mr Perry said. If this man were a werewolf, would he be in human form? No.
He‟d be a wolf still. Now, this time last month, and the month before, something was attacking your sheep. I suggest that some of you take poor Miss Ryan up to the village, and the rest of you go back out to check on your flocks. My friend and I will go to the house to break the news to Mr Stanton.‟
The mob dispersed, grumbling. Harry felt he had no option but to tag along after this velvet-jacketed man.
„It‟s better if you come with me,‟ the man said. „Once they get ideas in their heads...‟
„Oh, absolutely,‟ Harry agreed. He felt the need to account for his presence in the wood, although how he could make it plausible he did not know. „I was... lost,‟ he said. „You know how it is, one minute you‟re one place, next you look up and you‟re somewhere else entirely.‟
The man looked thoughtful. „I know that feeling very well.‟
They were silent for a few minutes. Then: „Er, I‟m sorry about the young lady,‟ Harry said. „Friend, was she?‟
„Acquaintance only,‟ said the man. „Miss Ryan was engaged to be married to George Stanton, who is the nearest thing these parts have to a lord of the manor. We‟re going to see him now.‟
„Oh. Right-ho,‟ said Harry. „But they won‟t want a stranger hanging around, will they? Awful news like that and all.‟
„They won‟t mind.‟
There was another silence as they walked on. They hadn‟t been far from the edge of the wood, and soon emerged on to a narrow dirt road that wound past a church.