Doctor Who_ Wooden Heart - Martin Day [12]
‘It is?’ said Martha.
‘Yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘Not quite alive. Well, not in the same way that you and I are.’ And he turned the brilliant blue light onto Martha.
‘Oi!’ said Martha. ‘Cut it out!’
The Doctor grinned, putting the screwdriver away before setting off. Martha hurried to catch up.
‘So, what was that creature?’ asked Martha.
‘It appeared to be a wild boar,’ said the Doctor. ‘Sus scrofa – still common in central Europe, even in your time. Then again,’ he went on, ‘I’ve seen pagoda trees from Asia, magnolias unique to North America… Frankly, half of the trees in this forest don’t belong together, and I’m not sure I even recognise the other half.’
‘Not from Earth?’
‘Not from any planet I know,’ said the Doctor. ‘And I always got top marks for botany at school!’
Martha pointed back in the direction they’d come. ‘Let’s turn round. There’s no sign of the TARDIS, no sign of the forest’s edge. Maybe we can work out what’s going on from the space station.’
The Doctor stopped suddenly. ‘Excellent idea,’ he said.
Martha, sighing, circled on the spot and started to walk away. Then she noticed the Doctor wasn’t coming and she looked back at him.
‘One slight problem,’ the Doctor continued, still rooted to the spot.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m caught in a trap,’ said the Doctor, pointing down to something metallic at his feet. For the first time Martha could see the beads of sweat on the Doctor’s forehead. ‘Doesn’t half hurt,’ he added.
FOUR
Saul moved through the forest silently, but at speed. Something was wrong. The equilibrium of the forest had been disturbed, possibly by some rogue element – a new predator, perhaps? He wasn’t unduly surprised. With all that was going on in the village, it was surely only a matter of time before the unease and disruption spread further afield.
He’d found nothing in his rope traps, though the bait had gone from a couple. The wolves – or whatever they were – seemed to be getting cleverer by the day. Still, it only took one slip, one newcomer to the forest who didn’t recognise the tell-tale signs… Saul had replaced the meat before heading off to the traps in the north and west of the forest. He hoped he’d have better luck there.
As he approached the area, his sense of unease deepened. His shoulders prickled and his mouth became dry.
He could hear voices.
‘I can’t really get a good grip on it.’ A woman’s voice.
‘Ow, that hurts!’ A man – in some discomfort.
‘Look, I’m trying my best!’
Saul was about to march into the clearing – this was Saul’s area, surely they knew better than to come up here? – when he realised that he recognised neither voice. They spoke in clipped, rushed words, and that wasn’t just a result of the trap. These were people used to living life at speed, and the pain in the man’s voice was as much irritation at an interruption as a genuine fear for his own life.
Saul paused for a moment, his hand on the short sword that he always carried at his side. Who were these people? Traders did, on occasion, come to the village – almost always seeming to trigger yet another argument between Saul and his brother – but invariably word was sent ahead of them. Saul was sure that no emissaries or merchants were expected, and even if they were lone individuals seeking some sort of business opportunity, why would they try to approach the village from the woods? Much easier to take a route down from the mountains.
Perhaps, then, these individuals had a more malign agenda – perhaps it was their presence that had so disrupted the forest. Perhaps, even, they were responsible for the succession of recent, grim events, though, as he crept forward, Saul had to admit to himself that they didn’t sound terribly sinister.
Incompetent, perhaps, but not sinister.
‘Now I’ve got my finger stuck!’
‘Doctor, you’re not helping. Look, let’s wipe away the worst of the