Doctor Who: Virgin New Adventures [060] - Lungbarrow by Marc Platt

Author:Marc Platt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426205029
Publisher: London Bridge
Published: 1997-04-14T22:00:00+00:00

The battle between Badger and the Catalfaque

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 all 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 will tell me who he really is.’

‘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.’ He smiled. ‘You or the Doctor. One of you will have to go.’

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