Doctor Who: Asylum by Peter Darvill-Evans

Author:Peter Darvill-Evans
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Science-Fiction:Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563538332
Publisher: BBC Worldwide Americas
Published: 2001-05-06T10:00:00+00:00

‘Not much, sire. There’s a crowd in Fish Street. I didn’t want to get too close. But they’re angry about something.’

‘Ouch!’ Richard said, and put his hand to his cheek. ‘I think that’s enough shaving. Get downstairs, quietly, and rouse the garrison. Tell them to get up and into their livery. All of them. And to bring their halberds and knives. There’ll be trouble for anyone of them who isn’t ready by the time I’m downstairs. And,’ he added, as the man made for the door,

‘tell the stableboy to have my destrier saddled and ready.’

‘Yes, sire,’ the man said, and Richard plunged his raw face into the bowl of water.

As he pulled on his quilted shirt and leggings he reflected that his show of strength in the town the previous day had clearly done nothing to dampen the smouldering conflicts among the townspeople. On the chancellor’s advice he had paid particular attention to the area around Fish Street: he’d marched his men up and down until he thought he’d pass out from the smell of fish emanating from the shops on all sides.

Fish Street was the westernmost boundary of the Jewish quarter, so the Hebrews were probably the cause of the disturbance today. But it could be the scholars again. Or a dispute among the shopkeepers.

Richard was grateful, though, in a way. In Wales he had become used to wearing full armour every day, and since leaving the principality he had missed the comforting weight of his mail suit. Now, as he covered his head, torso, arms and legs with coif, hauberk and chausses, he felt himself becoming a warrior again. He was a man of flexible metal, invulnerable to all but the most cunning of knife thrusts and all but the most powerful of sword strokes. He struggled into his surcoat, buckled his sword-belt around his waist, and picked up his shield. He was ready.

And so, when he emerged from the keep’s gateway, were his men and his horse.

‘I’ll take ten of you,’ he shouted as he ran down the steps into the bailey. ‘Wulfstim, pick three others from yesterday’s squad and six more. Line up two abreast. The rest of you, stay here but be ready to come if I send for you. Alfred, you’re in charge of the second team.’

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