Part 9 (1/2)

'Not in these ones you don't,' Anne insisted. 'Though sometimes, if you leave it too late, finding rooms can be difficult. So, eat up, we'll have a good night's sleep and see what we can do about the other answers tomorrow.'

Steven studied Anne's face fist a few moments. Her fresh complexion was surrounded by a shoulder-length tangle of auburn curls, her nose retrousse retrousse, and under it a mouth which frequently twitched at the corners as though she were about to burst out laughing, or giggling, at any moment although her pale blue eyes were shrewd and knowing.

'How old did you say you were?' Steven asked.

'I didn't but I'm fifteen,' she replied.

'That's not too young to give good advice,' Steven said and took a big bite of his bread and cheese.

Steven paid and as they left the inn he asked where was the nearest hotel they could stay at. Anne replied that there was one very close, only two streets away. As they walked towards it, the tocsin bell began to chime.

'Only just in time,' Steven remarked, expecting to find the hotel in front of them as they turned a corner. Instead he was confronted with an old, abandoned cemetery, overgrown with wild flowers and weeds amongst which a number of sepulchres sprouted. 'Here?' he asked with some surprise.

'They say they're very cool in the summer,' Anne a.s.sured him. 'Lots of students sleep in them and n.o.body minds.' He laughed at her and put his arm around her shoulders.

'Which would you rather, madame?' he asked. 'The southerly aspect, facing west, looking north or to the east?'

They found a tomb with a shelf on either side and no bones. Crouching, Steven used a branch with some leaves on it to sweep off the dust whilst Anne collected some wild flowers 'to decorate their apartment', as she put it. Steven undid his bundle of clothes and made two pillows of them and placed one on each shelf. Anne had been right, it was pleasantly cool inside the tomb even though there was no door.

Later, as they lay on their shelves in the gathering dusk, Steven asked exactly where they were.

'It's called the Lutece cemetery. Lutece was the old Roman name for Paris,' Anne murmured sleepily.

'The Hotel Lutece,' Steven mused, 'I shall recommend it to my friends.' Chuckling, he fell asleep.

By morning, word of the TARDIS's discovery had spread throughout Paris with, possibly, the only exception being the apothecaries and the Doctor in the cave. When the King heard of it, he called for a horse and rode with several courtiers, among them de Coligny and Tavannes, to the Bastille to examine it. From a discreet distance Steven and Anne watched them enter the fortress and saw the TARDIS on the ground in the centre of the courtyard before the doors were closed.

'What do you make of it, de Coligny?' the King asked as, from what was considered a safe distance, they circled the time-machine.

'I have no idea, sire,' the Admiral admitted.

'An engine of war, perhaps, my Liege?' Tavannes suggested.

'But what manner?' the young King asked. 'An explosive device? It does not move unless it can fly like a bird.' He flapped his arms whilst everyone laughed dutifully. 'And why should it have been set down where it was?'

'Perhaps, sire, the answers lie inside,' de Coligny ventured.

'We shall have it opened,' the King replied and waved a royal hand at no one in particular. 'Fetch a locksmith, the best there is to be found.' He remounted his horse. 'But none shall enter therein unless we are present.' The doors opened and they rode back to the palace.

Lerans and Muss's interest in the find was minimal.

Lerans had gone to the Cardinal's palace to study the Abbot's schedule for the day which was posted, as was the custom, on the main gates. Like the previous day, the only opportunity for the Abbot's subst.i.tution appeared to be between three and five in the afternoon when he rested and read his Office but the problem was that Catherine retired to her rooms in the Queen's Palace during the afternoon and could not be disturbed.

For Muss's part, his disinterest was due to his concern for the Admiral's position in the Court and he spent the morning trying to work out, without much success, which Catholic political manoeuvre would be most likely to bring about his master's downfall.

On the other hand, the Abbot of Amboise was most interested in the bizarre machine but he was too preoccupied with the relative strengths of Catholics and Huguenots in other parts of France to go and look at it himself. So he sent Duval who found the locksmith hard at work trying to prise open the lock whilst being watched by the halberdiers on guard.

'What progress do you make?' Duval asked. The locksmith straightened up and scratched the back of his neck.

'With all the betties that I've got, my lord,' he said, jingling a ring with wires, hooks and odd-shaped needles hanging from it, 'with all of them there's not a lock in Paris, no, in all of France, that'll keep me out.' He pointed at the keyhole in the TARDIS door. 'But this one's made by the devil himself for it's like none other I've ever seen.'

'The black arts,' Duval murmured as the locksmith inserted another needle into the keyhole and tried to manoeuvre it. Then he yelped and leapt back. 'What is it, fellow?'

'It set my arm on fire inside,' the locksmith blurted.

'Show me,' Duval said and examined the man's arm. 'I see no sign of burning.'

'Inside my arm, like a cramping of the muscles,' the locksmith wailed and then pointed at the key stuck in the lock. 'And how will I get that one out?'

'Touch nothing,' Duval ordered and turned to the halberdiers. 'Take this hapless creature and incarcerate him alone for he is possessed by Satan, the Lord of Darkness.'

Bemoaning his miserable fate, the locksmith was taken away and thrown into one of the Bastille's dungeons whilst Duval made his way back to the Cardinal's palace as quickly as possible.

Lerans paced nerviously in front of the Doctor.

'I can think of no better method than to have you wait in the crypt of Notre Dame until a favourable opportunity presents itself to escort you to the Queen Mother,' he confessed as the Doctor watched him wearily.

'And if one doesn't, what then?' The Doctor had acid in his voice.

'One will, one must must.' Lerans was desperate. 'But we must be ready to take advantage of it.'

The Doctor sighed. 'The interview with Catherine and after that we shall leave you,' he said. 'How is Steven, by the way?'

'Fine. Very well,' Lerans replied almost too quickly.

'Mystified by your continuing absence, of course, but in good spirits.'

'Hmm... ' the Doctor said noncommitedly.

11.

The Royal Audience Steven weighed up the alternatives which seemed open to him and came to the conclusion that returning to the auberge was the logical thing to do. The Doctor had said they would meet there so that was where Steven would wait for him.

He would have preferred Anne to return to de Coligny's house but she argued that Duval's men were watching it and she would almost certainly be captured by them before being safely inside its walls. Reluctantly, Steven agreed with her and they set off towards the island and Notre Dame.

Once again the day was clear, fine and hot as the mid-morning crowds bustled about their business on the streets. Steven held Anne's hand as they jostled their way towards the bridge but were forced to one side by an approaching carriage.

Not until it was level with them did Steven realise that the man inside with Duval was the Doctor. Or was he? he wondered and then, taking the risk of drawing Duval's attention to them both, Steven shouted out the Doctor's name.

But the Abbot of Amboise ignored him.

'Where's he going? To the TARDIS?' Steven asked aloud.

'To where?' Anne was puzzled.