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Authors: Marc Platt

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Doctor Who: Lungbarrow (25 page)

BOOK: Doctor Who: Lungbarrow
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'So did we al ! I was Epicural Overseer to the Dromeian Chapterhouse.'

'Ah,' choked the Doctor, 'head waiter.'

'I was renowned for my skills at assembling banquets from the rarest provisions. Now all I eat is fungi and these.'

He held up a couple of braces of scrawny tafelshrews. 'There's only a limited number of ways you can cook them.

So I'd relish a change of menu.'

The Doctor looked uncomfortable. 'Where have all the others gone?'

'Away,' said Rynde.

The walls and floor shuddered. The Drudge raised its head as furniture along the gallery shuffled uncomfortably.

A sharp cry of pain came from an alcove.

'Who's your friend?' said the Doctor.

'Out you come, Owis,' Rynde called. He waited while his podgy Cousin sidled nervously into view.

'It bit me,' he said. 'The chair bit me.'

***

'Listen to me. We must wait.'

Satthralope clung to her chair. Now that was rocking too. The mirrors trembled in their frames.

'You must wait. Now he's here, al this can be finished. We can wake Quences when we are ready. But stay calm.

We must be calm.'

She felt the mood of the House tighten on her thoughts. She had been too quick. It was startled awake after a long, disturbed sleep. It dreamt the echoes that rattled along its cloisters and corridors.

'There, there. It'll soon be over. Stay calm. Stay calm. Nothing to worry about.'

The door slowly opened itself.

Across the entrance lay a shape. Half out of a sack, propped against the door frame. Its head lolled to one side.

Eyes cold and staring. The twisted body of Cousin Arkhew.

Satthralope stared in disbelief. One of the mirrors turned on its hinges, straining to see.

'Nothing to look at!' the Housekeeper gasped.

The mirror cracked across.

Owis gawped at the Doctor. 'Who is he?' he complained. 'What's going on? Why won't anyone tel me?'

'Ask him yourself,' said Rynde.

115

 

The Doctor was peering out of the gallery, up into the roof of the Hall. Something was hanging there, bulky, caught in the swags of web. He slid a catapult out of his pocket, noticed the Drudge and put it back again.

'Well,' said Owis, 'who are you, then?'

'Doctor!' shouted someone.

'Correct,' the Doctor said.

There were two figures on the gallery across the well of the Hal . Innocet and the young stranger. They started to move round.

A deep rumble began in the depths of the House. The furniture on the gallery started to edge out of its places.

Chairs, tables, al stalking slowly towards the Doctor.

Rynde pulled Owis clear.

The Drudge lunged at the Doctor. He stepped neatly to the side and reached into his jacket. Out of the flimsy garment, he drew an impossibly large umbrella. It opened over him like a huge coloured mushroom, hiding him from view. The Drudge knocked the object aside, but the Doctor had vanished.

The rumbling deepened.

'Behind you,' cal ed the Doctor from the balustrade. He swung his legs over the balcony and shinned down one of the tree trunks into the Hall.

The Drudge leant over the edge and gave a creaking cry of anger.

The House answered with a shudder of disapproval.

Innocet and the stranger joined Rynde and Owis as they stared hopelessly down.

'What's he doing?' muttered Rynde.

The Doctor was walking the length of the long Hall, heading towards the Loom plinth where Quences was laid out.

'Stop him,' said Innocet. 'Satthralope must have woken the House.'

'Wormhole!' yel ed Rynde. 'Get away from there. You'l get us al killed!'

The Doctor turned and waved. 'Why? What is there to be scared of?' He stopped in his tracks as a gang of heavy dining tables began to edge out of the alcoves.

The Drudge croaked an order from the gallery, and the tables moved in closer.

The young stranger suddenly grabbed hold of the coloured umbrella. He shut it up and furled the material. 'Doctor,'

he yel ed and threw it down to the floor.

The Drudge rounded on the stranger, but Innocet moved between them with a sharp riposte. 'Stop this now!

Remember the laws of Housepitality! ' The servant ignored her.

Down below, the Doctor snatched up the brol y and began to parry the prowling tables. The rumbling House shuddered again, almost throwing him to the floor.

Somewhere a door slammed. Then another. There was a barrage of rage as doors al over the House slammed themselves over and over. The helpless watchers covered their ears.

Through the din, Innocet shouted, 'Stay there, Chris! Only Satthralope can stop this nonsense!' As she hurried away, Chris's hand went to his forehead and his knees buckled. He rested his chin on the balustrade and groaned weakly as he watched the fight.

116

 

The tables were circling the Doctor, narrowing his space. Rynde saw that they would soon slide themselves together and crush him. He nudged Owis. 'Three tafelshrews that he loses a leg.'

'Five, he loses both.' They crooked fingers.

The Doctor, his umbrella open as a shield, was spinning in a circle, trying to hold back all the tables at once.

One table made a vicious swipe and knocked the weapon out of his hand. As the mob closed in for the kill, the Doctor hop-toaded up on to one of the tabletops.

The table bucked and tried to throw him. It reversed and took a run across the Hal . The Doctor balanced on top, crouching, arms outstretched, shouting something like 'Surf's up!'

The table skidded to a halt and the Doctor tumbled clear.

Rynde whistled appreciatively. 'He never used to do that.'

Owis frowned. 'Have you met him before?'

The Drudge croaked another order. The slamming doors went suddenly quiet. The rumbling continued.

The Doctor waited for the other tables to advance, but they began to pul back.

Something snorted. Out of the gloom beyond the plinth slid the guardian of Quences's resting place. The massive black catafalque dwarfed the Doctor. It lashed its segmented tail. The ebony statues of beasts stacked up its ornamental sides rol ed their enamel eyes. Some beat their wings or stamped their hoofed feet.

The Doctor edged backward, but found his path blocked by the tables. He looked up to the galleries and whistled a two-note signal.

Chris tried to heave himself over the balustrade, but the Drudge dragged him roughly back.

The catafalque advanced, growling to itself. The ceremonial beasts carved on its flanks lowered their horns and tusks, ready for the charge.

The Doctor whistled again and this time there was a whistled response. He smiled to himself and the catafalque charged.

He dodged sideways. The funeral carriage lashed its tail round and caught him side-on. He stumbled and kept his balance, but his jacket was caught between the tail segments. Struggling to free himself, he was dragged steadily towards the affixed beasts as they writhed and champed from their places on the body of the bier.

Innocet stepped over the body of Arkhew dumped in the doorway.

Satthralope was in her chair, staring at the corpse, making little guttural noises in her throat. Her keys lay on the floor at her feet.

Innocet closed the door quietly. She took the old woman's trembling hands. 'Satthralope, listen. The House...'

'I told it,' whispered the old woman.

'Yes.'

'It knows he's here.'

The House shuddered again. A tarnished shield fell from the wal and clanged spinning to the floor.

'We must stop it,' Innocet said.

'No, no. It won't listen.'

117

 

'It must listen,' Innocet insisted. She felt fresh tremors shiver through the floor. 'You can't do it alone.' She picked up the heavy keyring and placed it in the Housekeeper's hands. Together they turned to the reflection in the mirrors.

To and fro thrashed the tail of the enraged catafalque. The Doctor, thrown about like a doll, was barely clinging on.

A sudden roar cut across the Hal . Rynde, in the midst of another wager with Owis, saw a shaggy figure emerge on to the arena.

'What's that?' Owis said.

'Badger!' shouted the Doctor, struggling to hold his grip. 'About time too! It's me!' He whistled again and the tal figure returned the signal. It was bulky, with massive curling horns on its head, but its striped fur was grubbier than Rynde remembered. Tufts of stuffing sprouted from tears in its side. One crystal eye dangled out of its socket.

The black bier turned towards the intruder. Its tail lashed, dragging the Doctor with it. Tables scattered as it came to meet the lumbering Badger avatroid.

Badger seized hold of one of the heavy dining tables. It upended the object and advanced using it as an armoured shield. The table's legs flailed helplessly.

The catafalque hissed like an angry fish-kettle. Its tail coiled right round the Doctor, lifting him into the air.

'No, Badger!' he yel ed.

 

The avatroid raised the struggling table above its head and hurled it straight at the furious funerary carriage.

It smashed apart against the prow of the bier. The carved beasts barked and snarled their rage. The catafalque bellowed and lifted its tail to hurl the Doctor back in answer.

'Go on, then,' the Doctor shouted. 'Do your worst to me. It won't change anything! Go on!'

Every door in the House slammed in one clap of thunderous fury.

'Sorry,' moaned Chris on the balcony and slumped to the floor.

The tail stopped and the rumbling in the House began to diminish. The statue beasts froze.

118

 

Badger climbed up the bier and helped the Doctor struggle out of the coiled tail. He slid down and faced the Drudge that was waiting below.

119

 

Chapter Twenty

Vultures

Innocet eased Satthralope back into her chair. The old woman clung to her keys. 'Calm,' she muttered. 'Stay calm.'

They listened as the tremors subsided. The silence was no less uneasy.

'Rest now,' Innocet said wearily. 'You've settled the House. I'll take care of poor Arkhew's body.'

The Housekeeper shuddered and stared at the mirror. 'Who can live with that man?'

'We don't know that the Doctor was responsible.'

'You invited him in.'

'Yes. I did.'

Satthralope glared about her. 'Where are my Drudges?'

'You must rest. You've had a terrible shock.'

'Rest? We al rested too long. There are things to prepare. We'll sort this out over supper.'

'You owe me three tafelshrews,' said Owis as he and Rynde emptied the unconscious Chris's pockets.

'What for?'

'I did it.'

Rynde pocketed some strange coinage and a useful multibladed knife. 'You did what?'

'What you dared me.' Owis began to giggle. 'I found somewhere better to put Arkhew.'

'You were meant to put him in the Family vaults.'

'Unless I knew anywhere better, you said.'

'I was being ironic. Where did you put him?'

'No one saw me.'

'Where?'

Owis sulked. 'Across Satthralope's doorstep.'

'Gods of Purgatory! We were better off with the other one.'

'With who?'

'With Wormhole.'

'Huh?'

Rynde shook his head in disgust. 'The so-called
Doctor
. No wonder Innocet abandoned your education.'

'But no one wil tel me who he really is.'

120

 

'You are his Replacement,' said a cold voice and Glospin swaggered out of an alcove.

Owis opened and shut his mouth. 'But...'

'And while you apply your abundant mind to that dilemma, you and Rynde can carry our young visitor to somewhere more private.' He kicked Chris. 'I've got a few questions I've been saving up.'

'Wait a moment,' said Rynde. 'This one's mine.'

'This one,' said Glospin, pointing to Chris, 'is our way out. So keep your culinary fantasies to yourself.'

'He's mine.'

'He's no good to anyone par-braised and garnished.'

'Mine.'

Glospin produced some dice. 'Best of one.'

'Done.'

They crooked fingers over Chris's body. Owis raised a tentative hand. 'But if my predecessor's come back, what happens to me?'

'You?' Glospin smirked. 'What d'you think, Rynde? Cooked or raw?'

'Hung for a candleweek,' suggested Rynde. He poked Owis's stomach. 'Then smoked slowly over a citric fire to reduce the fat. There's enough there to last us a year.'

'Yike,' said Owis and shut up quickly. Glospin and Rynde threw dice over Chris. Rynde won.

Glospin fetched out a knife. 'Sorry. Defeat is not a concept I believe in.'

Rynde fingered the blade in his own pocket. He glanced along the gallery and he saw the approaching Drudge.

'Congratulations,' he said. 'You win.'

Glospin quickly nicked the skin on Chris's arm with his knife. He pulled back as the Drudge scooped Chris up and stalked away into the gloom.

He studied the blooded tip of the knife, sniffed it, held it to the light. 'The answer to your question, Owis, is simple.'

BOOK: Doctor Who: Lungbarrow
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