Doctor Who: The Masque of the Mandragora (11 page)

‘The masque cannot be held, Marco! It is too dangerous.’ The young Prince grew flushed and agitated.

‘I have seen our defences, sire,’ replied Marco calmly. ‘This palace could be held against an army. And the brothers are not an army, they are a fanatical rabble.’

‘Who can kill with bolts of fire.’

‘Simple trickery. Hicronymous was always a cunning fox. And do not forget, my lord, we have weapons of our own.’ Giuliano looked hard into the eyes of his steadfast companion. All the years he had known him he had proved a wise and loyal counsellor. But now they were dealing with powers and events outside their knowledge. He wondered how his father the old duke would have reacted, how would he best have protected his people? And for the first time realised the awesome burden of office that was his inheritance. ‘I don’t know, Marco,’ the young Prince hesitated.

His companion grasped him by the shoulders. ‘Giuliano, you are the ruler now. A leader. If you falter at the first challenge, you may lose everything. There are eyes watching. There are those who will go from here saying the Duke of San Martino is weak, ready to be toppled. Better to trust your guards and hold the masque as though all were normal.’

For several moments the young Prince did not respond. Then clasping Marco’s arms in his, he smiled. ‘You speak sense as always, dear Marco, but all is not normal. You and I both know it. I will seek the Doctor’s advice. Where is he?’

‘In Hieronymous’s room. He has been there since this morning. But what he does there I know not.’

‘Astrolabe, Sarah.’ The Doctor held out a hand.

‘What?’

‘The astrolabe,’ repeated the Doctor sharply. He was perched on a stool his right eye firmly glued to Giuliano’s telescope which pointed skywards out of the window. He waggled his fingers. ‘The medieval sextant.’

‘Oh.’ Sarah scratched her head and selected the most likely contender from the curious instruments which lay scattered about the chamber. ‘What exactly are you trying to do, Doctor?’

‘I’m trying to get this thing to work. Exactly. Roughly will be no good at all.’ He levelled the sextant towards the sun. ‘Unfortunately, the alidade is almost a whole degree out.’ He adjusted the brass screw on the side of the sextant, took a sighting and began a rapid calculation.

‘Compensate for error, then convert to the Copernican system, hundred and twenty degrees, that’s eight, and seventeen from sixty...’

‘Forty-three.’

‘Forty-three, thank you Sarah, that’s... that’s it. I’ve done it.’ He beamed. ‘Eight minutes and forty-three seconds after nine o’clock tonight.’

‘What?’

‘Mandragora swallows the moon. In other words, a lunar eclipse.’

‘And that’s when the brethren will attack?’

The Doctor nodded. ‘I imagine so. More important,’ he gestured around the room, ‘it’s when all this paraphernalia could become man’s only science.’

Sarah pulled a face. ‘Astrology? You mean when Mars is in the house of the ram and all that nonsense?’

‘Nonsense?’ retorted the Doctor. ‘It’s not nonsense.’ He wagged a finger at Sarah. ‘Remember Hieronymous, what he did to you. The Mandragorans don’t conquer in a physical sense. They dominate and control by Helix Energy, astral influence. They take away the one thing worth having.’

‘Which is?’

‘The essence of life. Purpose. The ability granted to every intelligent species to shape its destiny.’ The Doctor stepped down from the window, animated by his concern. ‘Once let them gain control and man’s ambition will never stretch beyond the next meal. They’ll turn you into sheep. Idle, useless, mindless sheep.’ He paused, his voice raised and angry at the thought.

Sarah held up her hands. ‘All right. I’m convinced.’ It was not often the Doctor grew so heated or showed his true feelings. Sarah often wondered why he cared so much for Earth and its people. But she knew it was the principle which counted. It was oppression and tyranny he fought. Whether on a small scale with Federico and San Martino, or Mandragora and Earth, it amounted to the same denial of freedom.

‘But what can we do?’ she asked finally. There was no reply from the Doctor. He had adopted the familiar lotus position of an Eastern mystic, eyes closed. hands pressed firmly together, and now sat immobile in the middle of the room. Instead there was a tap at the door and Giuliano entered accompanied by a soldier.

‘I’d like...’ Giuliano broke off and stared at the Doctor.

‘Don’t worry.’ explained Sarah. ‘he’s only thinking.’ The Doctor let out a loud snore.

‘Thinking?’ queried the Prince.

Sarah frowned. ‘I think.’

‘I came to seek his advice.’

The Doctor suddenly opened his eyes and bounced to his feet. ‘All or nothing, Sarah. I’ll have to take a gamble.’ He started towards the door.

‘Doctor,’ said Giuliano, intercepting him.

‘Hello.’ The Doctor flashed a quick smile. ‘If it’s ionised plasma it’s molecular,
i.e.
there’s only a certain amount of it. And by now it must be spread pretty thinly among Hieronymous and the brethren. Exhaust it. That’s the answer!’ He beamed triumphantly at Giuliano.

‘Doctor, I have a question.’

The Doctor tapped the soldier’s chainmail jerkin. ‘Can you get me one of these? And a good length of wire?’

‘Wire?’ Giuliano looked bewildered.

‘Yes wire! Good heavens, man, it’s at least a hundred and fifty years since wire-drawing machines were invented. You must have some about the place.’

The Prince gave a baffled shrug. ‘If you would speak to the palace armourer...’

‘Of course, yes! I’ll see him right away.’ The Doctor strode to the door then turned, remembering something. ‘Did you have a question?’

‘I wanted to speak to you about tonight’s masque—the ball for all our distinguished visitors,’ replied Giuliano. ‘Everything is arranged, but it could yet be cancelled.’

The Doctor chuckled. ‘Oh I see. You’re going to have a hop? How splendid!’

‘If you don’t think it’s too dangerous,’ ventured Giuliano tentatively.

‘Dangerous?’ The Doctor shook his head vigorously. ‘Duke, you have a lot of guests to entertain. Of course you must hold the masque. Sarah will love it.’ He waved an arm and disappeared.

‘Oh yes,’ said Sarah with heavy sarcasm, ‘it’ll be just my scene!’

The Doctor popped his head round the door again. ‘And save me a costume, Giuliano, I love a good knees up.’ Then he was gone.

Sarah was forced to laugh at the young Duke’s perplexed expression. She had forgotten how unsettling the Doctor’s bouts of enthusiasm could be to anyone who didn’t know him.

Hieronymous stood alone on the topmost step of the altar, his golden mask glinting in the flickering torchlight. Behind the eye-slits in the mask, where once the astrologer’s own beady eyes looked out, was now a dim pulsating glow. The purple gloves still covered his long, extended fingers.

There was a movement in the shadows and the High Priest, also masked, ascended the altar steps. Hieronymous inclined his head. ‘The hour fast approaches.’

‘What is your plan, Great One?’

The High Priest’s voice echoed through the sepulchral gloom. No longer human, it sounded hoarse, devoid of emotion, like dry leaves rustling in the wind.

‘The plan of Mandragora,’ answered Hieronymous. ‘I am but the vessel for those who hold dominion over the cosmos.’

‘The mighty sky gods? What would they have us do, lord?’

Hieronymous turned to face the High Priest and the eye-slits in his ghoulish mask grew red and fierce.

‘This time and place were well chosen. Assembled in the palace are many scholars, men of science and learning, many rulers and nobles. Tonight they are to be destroyed. All of them. In this way shall be established the power and supremacy of those masters we serve.’

The High Priest bowed.

‘The Duke has deployed many soldiers. All the entrances to the palace are fortified and heavily guarded, lord.’

Hieronymous dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘There is still an entrance they know nothing of. Bring me ten of the brethren. I will take them to the palace.’ He leant closer to his acolyte’s ear. ‘Tonight there is a masque in the Duke’s honour. We will provide the entertainers!’

The High Priest bowed low and backed away into the shadows. As he did so a peculiar croaking noise emanated from behind the grinning mask of Hieronymous, like a hideous inhuman cackle.

In Giuliano’s room the Doctor was endeavouring to get into the chainmail jerkin. He tugged and heaved at the weighty garment, struggling to fasten it round his bulky frame. The jerkin was the largest the palace possessed but still it was a tight fit. At last he managed it with the help of the palace armourer and a good deal of ill-tempered muttering.

‘Now the coat. I don’t want it to show.’

The armourer helped the Doctor into his velvet frockcoat shaking his head in bewilderment at this eccentric and unorthodox procedure.

At this moment Sarah entered the room her arms laden with a number of fancy dress costumes.

‘How do I look?’ enquired the Doctor anxiously.

Sarah walked up to him and prodded his stomach. ‘Are you putting on weight?’ The Doctor looked hurt. ‘And what’s that in aid of?’ She yanked the metal jerkin.

‘A little plan.’ The Doctor turned to the armourer. ‘Leave the wire.’

The armourer bowed, placed a long coil of metal wire on the sword-chest and then left.

Sarah held out the costumes. ‘Giuliano sent you these to choose from.’

The Doctor selected a baggy russet-coloured garment with a large lion’s head. ‘This is rather dignified, don’t you think?’ The Doctor donned the lion’s head and let out a roar.

‘I think it’s ridiculous to be talking about fancy dress—I mean if we’re in such desperate danger.’

The Doctor pawed the air with his hands, threw back his lion’s mane and roared again.

‘Oh stop it! ‘ cried Sarah, genuinely upset. ‘Remember the French before Agincourt?’ The lion’s head waggled stupidly.

Sarah turned away. There were times when the Doctor’s behaviour infuriated her. ‘One thing I’ve noticed about you,’ she said bitterly, ‘the worse the situation the worse your jokes get.’

The Doctor stopped his fooling abruptly and removed the costume head.

‘I’ll settle for the lion, all right?’ he said quickly.

Sarah eyed him seriously. ‘Things are bad, aren’t they?’

‘Yes.’ The Doctor picked up the wire.

‘Very bad?’

The Doctor nodded. ‘Desperately bad. We can only do our best—and hope.’ His blue eyes met Sarah’s and for once they lacked their natural warmth and sparkle. In that moment Sarah knew they were up against something far more powerful and frightening than even she had dared imagine.

The Doctor took her hand. ‘Coming?’

She smiled weakly and followed him out.

In the state rooms and adjoining ante-chambers the guests were already trickling in prior to the masque commencing. The musicians were tuning up in the balcony and kitchen boys scurried hither and thither with last minute additions to the huge banqueting table which ran along one side of the ballroom.

The Doctor and Sarah arrived in one of the ante-rooms with Marco. The Doctor clutched the lion’s head. On a bench beneath a window were seated three bizarre figures in fancy dress, a goat’s head in white alabaster with snarling nostrils and fiercesome horns, an oxen with gaping jaws, and an ogling clown with bloated cheeks and stringy hair falling around its shoulders. The Doctor drew Marco’s attention to the monstrous trio.

‘Is Leonardo da Vinci among that lot?’

Marco smiled. ‘Those are the entertainers.’

The Doctor shook his head, disappointed. ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to see Leonardo, Sarah.’ He addressed Marco again.

‘Have the dungeon entrance opened.’

‘I’ll see to it at once, Doctor.’ Marco sped away.

The Doctor turned to Sarah. ‘I want you to stay here and keep an eye on this lot.’

‘What for?’ protested Sarah.

‘A Time Lord has to do what a Time Lord has to do.’ He lifted the coil of wire. ‘Besides, you’re not equipped.’

They had reached the colonnade which led down to the dungeons.

‘Doctor, you said it was dangerous.’

‘Did I? Oh, yes.’

‘Well is it dangerous?’

‘Only if I’ve guessed wrong.’

Sarah caught hold of the Doctor’s arm and forced him to a halt. ‘I wish you’d stop giving me flip answers ! ‘

‘All right.’ The Doctor turned and faced her. ‘Cosmic rays—negatively charged high-energy particles—follow magnetic lines of force. So, if I’ve guessed right about the nature of Helix Energy, I should be able to drain it off.’

Sarah nodded. ‘And if you’re wrong?’

The Doctor smiled expansively. ‘When have I ever been wrong about anything?’ He gave her a sly wink and disappeared down the corridor.

Sarah stared after his retreating figure and bit her lip. ‘Lots of times,’ she said to herself quietly and there was a look of sadness in her eyes.

In the temple ruins a figure slid into the Sacrificial Chamber and approached the purple form of Hieronymous standing sentinel-like beside the altar.

‘The masque has begun,’ reported the High Priest urgently. ‘Shall I order our brothers into position?’

‘Yes. Kill all who try to escape.’

‘The others are inside?’

‘Concealed from prying eyes. They await only my signal.’

The High Priest bowed. ‘Glory to Demnos.’ ‘And to Mandragora.’

The High Priest bowed once more and glided away into the shadows. Hieronymous watched him disappear, then strutted majestically down from the altar and vanished through a hidden exit.