The Ghosts of N-Space - Barry Letts [67]
‘Go on,’ said the Doctor, appearing in the doorway with a tea-towel in his hand.
‘…and walled the evil monk up alive,’ she finished quietly.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’ he said. He sounded very serious.
‘It never crossed my mind.’
‘Mm. I see.’ He disappeared into the kitchen.
What was he on about? It was a book, for Pete’s sake.
She called out to him, ‘It’s only a story, after all.’
He didn’t answer; so after a moment she struggled out of her deckchair and went to the doorway. He was standing with a plate in his hand, frozen in the act of drying it.
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‘It’s only a story, Doctor.’
He looked at her, unseeing. Then he sighed and returned to his job.
‘Connections, Sarah. Connections. Only a story, yes.
But you told me yourself that it appeared to be based on the legend of the castello of San Stefano. And what are legends based on?’
He hung the cloth on a handy toolrack and turned to her.
‘If I was in the legend all the time,’ he said gravely,
‘then it appears we haven’t “changed the course of history”
after all, to use your vulgar phrase. We were already a part of it. And that means…’
He sighed and shook his head. ‘And that means that when we do get back, we’ll find as big a mess as ever.’
And this was the moment the TARDIS chose to trumpet her arrival.
It was Maggie who saw them coming, the advance guard from the Princess M. Stationed as she was as lookout on the tower on the eastern wall, she was able to spot them through a gap in the woods, so she scooted along the wall to the gate tower to warn the Brigadier of an impending attack.
He was now by himself. Having had further thoughts about the possible tactics of the enemy, he’d been discussing them, faute de mieux, with Jeremy (awake again, 236
and in reasonably good shape, if a trifle frayed around the edges) and discovered that his chances of a successful defence of the castello had effectively doubled.
‘You see,’ he had been saying, ‘the difficulty is this: While I’m at the top of the tower, where I can see what’s going on and keep the-main body of them at bay, this monk chappie could be floating through the walls anywhere at all.
And once inside, he could open the main gate and –’
‘– and Max has won the jolly old jackpot.’
‘Exactly. I really need to be down there in the middle of the bailey – the open yard – to pop the fellow off wherever he turns up. But I can’t be in two places at once.’
‘Give me the stun-gun thingy, then, and I’ll do it.’
‘You?’
It was clear that Jeremy was deeply offended. ‘I’ll have you know, sir, that I’m a jolly good shot.’
Good grief, who’d have thought it? thought the Brigadier. Still, breeding will out.
‘Been shooting with your Uncle Teddy, I suppose.’
‘You mean pheasants and grouse and all the other assorted poultry they like to take a pot at? Well, no. Not a lot. Don’t like the bang, you see. No, I was talking about fairground stuff Last time I went, I, won a plaster Venus de Whatnot, a silver jug – though I’d like to bet it wasn’t real silver – and a pink teddy-bear; but I gave him to a little girl 237
in a push-chair, because bears aren’t ever really pink, you know.’
‘Are they not? Well, well, well. You learn something everyday.’
Jeremy looked surprised. ‘No, sir. Usually black or brown or… Ah, you’re joshing me, aren’t you, sir? But I promise you, I hit the bull every time. I do, really I do.’
So not without some misgivings, the Brigadier had placed him in the most strategic spot (just south of the old broken pump), handed over the gun and returned to his vantage point to await events; and not so very long after that, Maggie came racing up the stairs to warn him that battle was about to commence.
However, the siege of the castello did not start with a full frontal attack. Max Vilmio arrived at the front gate like another hopeful tourist – or rather, the Brigadier thought to himself, like a tour guide, for he was leading a small group, headed by the monk. (He looked a bit solid