Doctor Who: Eye of Heaven by Jim Mortimore

Author:Jim Mortimore
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science-Fiction:Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563405672
Publisher: BBC Worldwide Americas
Published: 1998-03-14T10:00:00+00:00

„I have heard the mate talk of a tavern at the end of the docks called the Three Tuns, which the dock hands are known to frequent. Perhaps we can find someone there who met the Doctor and might be able to tell us where he is to be found now.‟

James shrugged. The town clock rang nine. I began to walk along the jetty to the land side of the dock, and he followed. The docks were wet.

A light fog was rolling in off the sea, gathering strength, blurring the lights from nearby windows. One by one the stars above us went out, obscured by a thickening blanket of cloud. I was concerned. If this fog held we would not be sailing tonight - maybe not for several days. I continued to walk, James beside me, our footsteps ringing dully on the road. Dim yellow lights guttered along nearby streets and up the hill towards town. Sounds of distant revelry drifted on the night air.

I heard laughter. A door banged open, spilling light into the street.

Several drunken sailors stumbled past. They called a cheerful if beer-sodden greeting to us, before stumbling past. The door banged shut and the light and sounds from within faded.

James said quietly, „A tavern.‟

I shook my head. „Not the one. We go on.‟

A few minutes later we found the Three Tun,. It was a two-storey building which in the fog seemed to squat like some hulking animal upon the pier. It was a ramshackle affair, with boards peeling from the outside and guttering and a rain barrel clogged with moss. But light shone strongly from inside, blurred by the damp air collecting around the slatted windows.

I hesitated. Beside me, James stopped as well. I don‟t think either of us really knew what to do now we were here. A place like this was outside my experience - it was almost certainly outside James‟s as well.

I thought it looked like an animal. It smelled like one, too. Beer and tobacco and sweat. And I could hear the noise it made from the far side of the road. A guttural, angry noise, like an animal about to kill. The noise was a composite of crashes, angry shouts, gleeful taunts.

James and I exchanged glances. We had taken but one step towards the establishment when the window nearest us shattered, burst asunder by a wooden table which flew through the air and shattered on the ground before us. Smashed bits of wood and glass scattered across the pier.

Wreckage skittered along the wooden boards and dropped over the edge. I heard distant splashes, muffled by the fog. That‟s when I saw it.

I grabbed the object, held it up to James.

„A boot. Horace, this is the mother of all bar fights. I really think we ought to think twice before -‟

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