Doctor Who: Target - Novelisations [108] - The King's Demons by Terence Dudley

Author:Terence Dudley
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426202271
Publisher: Target Books
Published: 1986-09-14T22:00:00+00:00

7

Doctor Captures King’s Knight

‘We cannot leave our capital to visit our good friends and subjects to be betrayed by a foul usurper. Do you not agree. Sir Geoffrey?’

‘I do, your Majesty.’

Ranulf watched his kinsman anxiously for any sign of defiance at the impostor’s baiting, for it was becoming intolerable. The false King had taunted his cousin relentlessly, hinting that consorting with the vile usurper in London was high treason and that, were he not a most merciful monarch, his head could roll. Sir Geoffrey sat at table swallowing insult after insult with his wine, valiantly holding onto a diminishing patience. He looked at Ranulf’s drawn face and thought of Isabella, praying for this bizarre audience to end. He allowed his eyes to stray towards the Doctor, now fully dressed as the royal champion. When, if ever, would this man who wanted to be trusted move?

Tegan stood back from the Doctor, the better to look him over. ‘What’s it feel like?’ she asked wonderingly.

‘Heavy.’

‘Wouldn’t you be better off without all that on? You did all right without it, didn’t you?’

‘Not the point, is it?’ muttered the Doctor, giving way to a certain irritation. ‘We’re playing his game.’

‘Oh, we’re playing games now, are we?’

‘Behave yourself!’ warned the Doctor. ‘The only plan I’ve got is to see what develops from this charade.’

‘If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?’

‘Exactly!’ The Doctor, who had overheard a lot of the needling inflicted on Sir Geoffrey, had already worked out his first move. Black King’s knight would take White King’s knight as soon as there was an opening. It was for the Black King to move first.

‘Come, is our champion not ready?’

The Doctor turned to face the impostor. ‘Ready, sire.’

‘Then let him approach us with his squire.’

Tegan darted a quick look at the Doctor to find him regarding her curiously. That character with the crown on couldn’t possibly mean her, but the Doctor clearly thought he did. ‘Come on,’ he muttered and moved heavily towards the impostor. Tegan followed, suspecting that she might be getting hysterical because she couldn’t stop feeling she wanted to laugh. The impostor King rose to meet them and expectation stirred the assembled company.

‘Your sword.’ demanded the spurious John.

The Doctor wasn’t sure it was he who was being addressed until he remembered that he was now wearing a sword.

‘Come! Your sword! We grow tired.’

The Doctor drew his sword rather fumblingly, being very much out of practice. He’d had sartorial experience of this particular epoch only once before when he’d been involved in the Holy Land with King Joint’s brother and the Saracen Sultan. Saladin. Holding the weapon hilt foremost, he presented it to the man claiming to be Richard the Lionheart’s youngest brother.

‘Kneel!’ commanded the impostor.

The Doctor obeyed but not without an anxious moment when he doubted the flexibility of his chainmail hosen. He was touched on each shoulder with the broadsword, none too gently, he thought. He wasn’t exactly a petty person, but he’d remember that.

‘Rise, Sir Doctor!’

The Doctor regained his feet

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