Doctor Who: The Masque of the Mandragora (13 page)

The frightened and bewildered band of captives were marched swiftly through the streets of the city and into the creepy passages of the catacombs. Once assembled in the central sacrificial chamber they were bound with thick rope and grouped in a circle in the ruins about fifty feet from the altar. Sarah had counted twenty heads of state and noblemen amongst the prisoners besides a large number of courtiers of both sexes. The women clung together weeping and moaning, their gay and colourful costumes now torn and mud-spattered by the journey. Giuliano and Marco were roped close together and Sarah was not far away. She thought the young Duke looked defeated and forlorn but his face only expressed what they were all feeling.

The brethren had gathered in a circle round the altar, like a ring of grinning fiends from hell. From out of the shadows the majestic figure of Hieronymous appeared. He ascended the altar steps and lifted his arms up high.

‘The eclipse,’ whispered Sarah. ‘It must be starting.’

Hieronymous’s voice echoed loudly round the cavernous chamber. ‘Now Mandragora swallows the moon. Now, as it was written, the power of Mandragora will flood the Earth.’

There was an eerie grinding noise all around them and Sarah felt a chill wind rustle her hair. The atmosphere was weird, uncanny, devilish. The cracked and jagged walls of the chamber began to shimmer and a strange luminous glow appeared on them. It gradually grew in strength until the outline of a ghostly Roman temple was discernible. At the same time the sound of tumbling masonry was augmented by a high-pitched wail which almost drowned Hieronvmous.

‘Mandragora, we, your servants welcome you. Bestow your power upon us that we may rule over the whole of your dominion!’

The shrieking, roaring din grew unbearable and Sarah and the other captives buried their heads in one another’s shoulders to escape the ear-splitting wail.

Then, a brilliant sphere of light seemed to swoop down through the roof of the temple. It hovered a few moments above the altar then slowly descended into the slab causing it to glow with white-hot heat.

Hieronymous lowered his arms and pointed towards the centre of the altar. The brethren followed suit. There was a hum, like a build-up of power, and suddenly sheets of blue flame leapt from the altar to the outstretched fingers of the encircling brethren. At this instant Hieronymous jumped clear of the altar steps and ran from the central area. But the brethren remained transfixed to the floor, each brother illuminated like a fire-brand with crackling, sizzling Helix Energy. Screams of torture and anguish rang out from the hooded figures as they struggled to move but they seemed held in the grip of an immutable current. Their cloaks caught fire and the ground where they stood erupted with sheets of flame which sped under-foot towards the base of the altar. As the circuit was completed there was a blinding flash and tumultuous explosion. Sarah was hurled to the ground together with everyone around her.

When she recovered the noise and ghostly vision were gone. All that remained was the smoking slab of the sacrificial block where once she had lain herself. Of the entire brethren there was no sign. They had perished where they stood, every single one. All that remained were heaps of empty clothing in a circle round the altar.

Hieronymous mounted the altar steps and took off his mask. Beneath it was revealed the smiling face of the Doctor.

Sarah gasped unable to believe her eyes. ‘Doctor!’

The Doctor threw back the purple hood and gazed round at the vanished brethren. ‘Even I have to admit that was rather clever of me,’ he beamed. Then, taking a breath, he spoke in deep, grating tones the exact replica of Hieronymous’s voice.

‘A case of energy squared. It puts Mandragora back to square one.’

Sarah stared at him mute with wonder. Giuliano and Marco were likewise struck dumb.

‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ said the Doctor with a touch of impatience. ‘I’m ready to accept your congratulations.’ He winked at Giuliano. ‘I wouldn’t even say no to a salami sandwich.’

A day later the Doctor and Sarah were riding across the Slopes of Sorrow to the vineyard where the TARDIS had first landed. Sarah was still numbed by the events of the previous night, but at least she had made the Doctor explain what had happened. His talent for mimicry was self-evident. She had forgotten how gifted he was at such parlour tricks. But his confrontation with Hieronymous was another matter. He explained how he had managed to withstand the astrologer’s final desperate onslaught. Once drained of his Helix Energy the outward shape of Hieronymous simply collapsed, like his fellows later. The Doctor had then borrowed his costume to lure the brethren to their destruction.

Now as they jogged across the fields, accompanied by Giuliano and his footman, Sarah felt a deep longing to stay. There was much reparation needed in the hearts and minds of the people of San Martino, and Sarah wanted to share that task with Giuliano. But she knew the Doctor would not understand. He had pulled her leg more than once about the handsome young Duke. Besides, he was already exhibiting signs of itchy feet, and it didn’t do to cross him in that mood.

The small group reached the clearing which led to the TARDIS and reined in their horses and dismounted. The Doctor went on ahead to inspect his machine and came back smiling a few minutes later.

‘Still there, thank goodness.’ He began to munch at an enormous salami sausage. ‘Excellent, Giuliano,’ he said with his mouth full. ‘Thank you.’

The young Duke bowed. ‘It is we who should thank you, Doctor. Will you not reconsider?’

‘No, we really must be on our way, mustn’t we Sarah?’

Sarah gave Giuliano a heartfelt look.

He took her hand. ‘There is so much we could learn from you.’

‘It will all come in time,’ replied the Doctor, a trifle off-hand. ‘Keep an open mind, that’s all you need.’ He shook hands with Giuliano and headed for the TARDIS.

Sarah bit her lip. The Doctor was always the same when it came to saying goodbye, unsentimental and unromantic.

‘Come on, Sarah,’ he called out as he reached the TARDIS door.

Sarah turned to Giuliano. ‘Goodbye, Giuliano.’ She kissed him gently on the cheek and hurried off.

The Duke followed her lithe form as she skipped after the Doctor. She was still wearing the satin gown from the ball and her hair in a chignon. She turned before reaching the TARDIS and waved. He saluted in return and shook his head sadly. There were no girls quite like her in San Martino. Nor would there ever be again.

Sarah caught up with the Doctor.

‘I never met Leonardo da Vinci then,’ he said reaching for the TARDIS key. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well, I’d have had to tell him his submarine design was totally impractical.’

But Sarah was not listening. ‘Poor Giuliano!’ she said. ‘He looks so wistful. Will he have any more trouble from Mandragora?’

The Doctor paused on the TARDIS threshold. ‘He won’t, but Earth will. Their constellation will be in position to try again in another five hundred years.’

‘Five hundred years? But that takes us to...’ Sarah did a quick calculation, ‘... just about the end of the twentieth century!’

The Doctor nodded and disappeared inside the TARDIS. Sarah shrugged, gave a final wave to Giuliano, and followed. The door closed behind her.

Twenty yards away Giuliano watched with amazement as the strange blue box began to emit a peculiar trumpeting noise like a wounded animal. Simultaneously, the little white light on top started flashing and the whole contraption slowly faded into thin air before his very eyes.

The footman struggled to control the plunging horses as Giuliano ran forward and probed the ground where the TARDIS had rested. It was just as if nothing had ever been there. The young Duke gazed up at the sky, puzzled, but not afraid.

‘There is a reason for everything,’ he said to himself. ‘Even this. One day science will explain it all.’