Doctor Who: Royal Blood (Glamour Chronicles, Book 1)

by Una McCormack

  That night we hoped that there were no more people to come, and the gates were closed. The next day, we awoke to see the army advancing down the road. They were a terrible sight, but, to my mind, the worst sight of all was Mikhail’s banner – the blue and gold of the Duke’s heir – flying beside Conrad’s. I pondered again all the choices that we had made concerning this young man, and in the end decided that at least, this way, he would live, should Conrad not prove treacherous. Had he become Duke, he would have been standing here with us, facing his certain death. For we did not doubt the outcome, only what the course of events would be. All that morning we watched Conrad’s men make camp, and then begin to bring out their great engines of war. We were besieged – and we knew it was only a matter of time before we were lost.

  We, those knights of Varuz who had returned, gathered with the Duke and the Duchess in the Great Hall, where we considered our options. ‘The sea routes are controlled by Conrad,’ I said. ‘The river too. The gates are closed, and whatever stores we have must last the whole of the siege.’

  ‘Which might not be long,’ said Aurelian. ‘Conrad has been preparing for this for a long time. And no relief coming to us, unless Guena knows something that the rest of us do not.’

  We all looked hopefully at the Duchess then, and I admit that I wondered whether indeed she had some final resources hidden away about which we knew nothing. But she shook her head. ‘I only ever had a handful of people in Conrad’s country. Those who have not returned are still there.’

  ‘But the devices that you have,’ urged Aurelian. ‘Is there anything that might help us? Our ancestors ruled the whole world! They walked amongst the stars!’

  ‘If my father the Duke knew anything about them, he never taught me. Perhaps he intended to show Mikhail, one day…But I was only a daughter. All that he showed me were the mirrors, the means to speak to people at great distance. There is no army coming, Aurelian, and there are no weapons hidden away, or none that I know about.’

  The sun was setting. Aurelian stood in front of his throne and watched the red light upon the walls. ‘I chafe at this inaction,’ he said. ‘And I will not sit here to starve. In the morning, I will open the gates, and I will ride out and bring battle to Conrad – and to Mikhail.’ He looked around us all standing there. ‘Who is with me?’

  This time there was no hesitation. ‘You know that I am, my lord,’ I said. ‘And all these men here today, they are with you, and they stand beside you until the very end.’

  And his court of knights, although much depleted, took up my words, and each one of them swore to Aurelian that he would stand beside him in this last battle. I saw Guena, sitting on her chair beside the Duke, smiling at me, and I was glad.

  We were busy then through much of the night, preparing for the morning. In the last dark hours before the dawn, however, I was able to go to my rooms for a little while and I slept, dreamlessly, taking solace in the darkness and oblivion. A little before dawn, I woke, and got ready to join the others, but not before speaking to my lady one last time. But of that parting, I will say nothing here.

  Dawn broke, and we took up our positions. At a sign from Aurelian, the gates opened, and we rode through. Silver trumpets sang to announce the coming of the Duke. And, from the north, there came an answer. I looked and saw what I had not believed possible: there, riding towards the city, was our relief. Lancelot had arrived, and with him came the last company of knights of Varuz. And then I saw Mikhail riding towards the Duke, and everything was lost in the blur of battle.

  —

  Clara and Emfil had not taken part in the charge. Instead, a few miles before Lancelot and his men came to the city, they had held back and then, when all the company had passed them, they rode off. Nobody paid them any attention. The Grail was their object, not two riders slipping away into the hills. When they reached a good height, near a little stream, they stopped, and sat down to watch the battle beneath them. They heard the trumpets announce the opening of the gates, and saw Aurelian, his armour gleaming in the sun, ride out to meet his enemy. They heard the trumpets sound in reply, and saw Lancelot and his company ride onto the field. They watched Lancelot identify the captain of the enemy, and make his way through the chaos to Mikhail.

  They fought for what seemed like an age. The young lord had speed and agility, but the old knight had cunning and guile. Still, it was Mikhail who struck the first real blow, coming in low beneath Lancelot’s defences, and slicing upwards with the bright laser of his sword. Clara gasped as Lancelot staggered and fell back.

  Lancelot was wounded, and badly – but there was no blood. Instead, from the wound in his chest there poured out a great golden light, as if he was a clear glass vessel through which the sun was shining. Slowly, this light enveloped him, becoming brighter and brighter all the while, so that Clara’s eyes began to water, and she had to put her hand up to shade them. For a split second, she thought she saw something forming at the heart of the light, a dark empty shape, but then, suddenly, the light burst outwards, almost blinding her. She had to look away. When she was able to see again, there was nothing there. Lancelot was gone.

  The battle had ceased. Silence had descended across the field. Mikhail was standing staring around in bewilderment, looking for his enemy. His laser sword was still drawn, but the light emanating from that seemed barely anything now, like the sputtering flame of a candle that has burned low. His men stood back, uneasily, waiting for his commands.

  ‘What just happened?’ said Clara.

  Beside her, Emfil was busy with his tracker. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I think I understand.’

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ Clara said. ‘So what’s going on?’

  ‘The Glamour wasn’t here at the city at all – well, not until Lancelot and his knights arrived.’

  Clara frowned at him. ‘What do you mean? They already had the Glamour, but they didn’t realise it?’

  Emfil was laughing. ‘Oh, it’s more than that, Clara. Don’t you get it? Think about it. The knights all love him. He had them under a spell. They wanted to be close to him. They forgot about everything else when he was around. Lancelot didn’t carry the Glamour with him. He is the Glamour!’

  Clara looked down at the battlefield. ‘And now he’s gone…’

  And his men prepared to follow. Slowly, the company of Glamour Knights, the last defence of the city, assembled themselves into their ranks. Five by six, thirty grim and weary knights, as ancient as time, whose names and stories were long gone, whose only purpose now was the quest upon which they had spent uncounted years, a quest that could never be satisfied, since, unwittingly, they already carried with them the object of their desire.

  ‘They’re going,’ said Clara. ‘They’re leaving…’

  ‘Chasing the Glamour,’ said Emfil. ‘Following Lancelot, wherever he goes.’

  The knights were assembled. Each one lifted his closed fist to press it against his breast, and then a mist seemed to descend upon them, and, when it lifted, they were gone.

  ‘Transporter,’ said Emfil. ‘They’re back on their ship.’ He stood up. ‘Clara, I’m sorry.’

  She turned to him. ‘Emfil? Where are you going?’

  ‘I can’t lose them. I can’t let them get away! Not now I know what the Glamour is.’ His face was in rapture. ‘Did you see it? It was so beautiful!’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Clara reached out to take his hand. ‘Emfil, don’t go! Can’t you see there’s no point? The Glamour – you can’t collect it and put it away and bring it out to look at it whenever you want. You can’t own something like that. It will only own you!’

  But she could see that she was wasting her breath. He was far away from her, long gone, his eyes fixed on the spot where the great golden light had first transfigured Lancelot, and then carried him away. ‘So beautiful,’ he said. ‘I knew it would be. I just hadn’t imagined how beautiful…It was so close, and now it’s gone!’ He nearly sobbed. ‘But now I know what I’m looking for. Now I know…�
� He turned back to her, briefly. ‘Goodbye, Clara! You don’t know how you’ve helped me! I’m so grateful! Now I really think I’m going to find it! No, I know that I am! One last journey and I’ll be there! I’ll have it! The Glamour!’

  He reached down to his belt, and tapped his finger against one of the gadgets there. A silver shimmer engulfed him, and then he was gone, leaving Clara standing there with her hand still stretched out, but now empty.

  ‘I don’t think I helped at all,’ she said to the space where Emfil had been standing. Then she looked down at the battlefield.

  The knights were gone. The city was undefended. She watched as Mikhail collected himself, and started issuing orders. Conrad’s army began to pull itself back into line, and then turned towards the city gates.

  Chapter

  12

  Guena, watching in her mirror from the palace, saw the whole day as it happened too. She saw the gate open, and Aurelian ride out. She saw Mikhail and Lancelot meet in combat, and the old knight’s strange change. She saw him disappear, and his men follow, and then she saw Mikhail gather his wits, and turn to face Aurelian.

  She did not need to see any more. Leaving behind her mirror, she made her way towards the secret routes through the palace. She knew she did not have long. Aurelian would be dead soon, and Mikhail would ride into the city, and, whatever her nephew might wish to do, she did not think that Conrad’s men would show her mercy.

  At last, Mikhail delivered the death blow, and the last Duke of Varuz died defending his city, as he had hoped that he would. Then Conrad’s army passed through the gates.

  —

  The moment that I saw that light emerge from Lancelot and grasped the truth of his nature, I knew that the city was lost. I did not need to wait to see the end, because I knew now how this story would end. I knew Lancelot and his knights were leaving, and that with their departure Mikhail and Conrad would together take the city, and that poor Aurelian would make his last stand and die…And so it happened. All that remained unclear to me was whether my lady was alive, and, if so, whether I could, against hope, save her. If this makes me a coward, then so be it. But the battle was lost, and nothing I could do would prevent that. But I could still save Guena. And so I left the men of war to their affairs, and I followed my heart’s desire, back into the city.

  I ran through streets filled with people terrified of what the next few hours would bring, and raced towards the palace. Long ago, Guena had told me the secret routes in and out, and I took a narrow street that led to one of these. I reached a small door, and I used the key that Guena had given me, and rushed inside. I hurried down a little corridor, but soon I was stopped in my tracks. The way was blocked. I nearly wept. A huge box, the like of which I had never seen, dark blue with strange white lettering upon it. What was this monstrosity? How had it come here? And, more to the point, how could I get past?

  As I was pondering this dilemma, a door on the box opened, and I beheld a familiar face.

  ‘Doctor!’ I cried. ‘I thought you were gone!’

  ‘What?’ He stepped out of the box and closed the door behind him. ‘Did you think I wasn’t coming back? I said I’d come back.’

  ‘Aye, when least expected. And you were true to your word!’

  He looked up and around, listening to the sounds of war from beyond the palace, as if taking the measure of the city and what was happening all round. ‘Sometimes,’ he said to himself, ‘war just happens, however hard you try.’ Then he looked at me, very sharply. ‘You didn’t care for the fight?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Good man. I imagine that you’re looking for Guena in all this chaos.’

  ‘I am, but…’ I pointed at the blue box. ‘There is an impediment.’

  ‘An impediment? The TARDIS? I think of her more as an enabler. Anyway, you can’t get through this way – the walls are already down.’

  I felt the life drain from me. ‘Then she is lost,’ I said. ‘Everything is lost.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said, looking beyond me. ‘Perhaps not.’

  I turned to see what had attracted his attention.

  It was my lady, Guena, She had come another way.

  ‘You just can’t keep a good duchess down,’ said the Doctor. He watched uncomfortably as we embraced. ‘Hugging,’ he said mournfully. ‘There’s always hugging. Always. But if you’re done, I still need to get to Clara.’

  Guena touched the jewel on one of her rings. ‘I could speak to Clara with this,’ she said. ‘If she is near water, or can find something to use—’

  ‘No!’ said the Doctor quickly, putting his hand out to stop Guena. Both of us were startled at the vehemence of his response. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Listen to me, Guena. You’re not to use these things again. These devices of yours – you said you didn’t know how they worked. Well, it’s never good to use things that you don’t really understand. Electricity, fusion, fission – oh, they’re all great, but you need to know what you’re doing. And you really don’t know what you’re doing.’

  ‘Explain to me, Doctor,’ Guena said. ‘What is the harm in using these things?’

  ‘And explain quickly,’ I said. ‘These passages are well concealed, but Conrad’s men will be searching the palace thoroughly for Guena and myself.’

  The Doctor took out the thin metal wand that he carried everywhere with him. ‘I’ve been monitoring what happens whenever anyone uses one of these things,’ he said. ‘The lights, the swords, the mirrors, the water. Not good. Draws a lot of power. And the power is drawn from the land itself. Your ancestors knew what they were doing – more or less. Even so, they overreached themselves. Used their clever gadgets too much. Built too many; built too ambitiously. Flew to the stars – although I don’t think they got past your system. Anyway, that’s what caused their decline. But they left you with all these things lying around, like children picking up guns and playing with them, thinking that they’re just toys that go whizz and bang. But they’re not toys. They’re dangerous. Really dangerous.’

  I thought that I was beginning to understand. ‘The sickness in the countryside,’ I said. ‘The wastes and the ruins. The people – all gone.’

  ‘People knew that the land was sick. That there was no future in Varuz. And there couldn’t be – not as long as the nobles kept on using these devices that they barely understood.’ He looked at Guena. ‘Every time you lit your halls, every time you drew your swords, every time you spoke to each other through them – you were killing a little more of Varuz. This stuff was your ruin.’

  My lady stood with her head bowed. ‘We thought we were keeping to the old ways—’

  ‘And you were,’ said the Doctor, ‘but you didn’t really understand.’

  Slowly, Guena began to take off her rings, one by one, piling them in a little heap upon the ground. Her necklace followed, and her brooches and then, last of all, she tore the jewel-encrusted sleeves from her dress and left them piled by the rest. ‘If that is the case, then let us leave it all behind then. Let Conrad destroy the lot.’

  I loved her more at that moment than I had ever done. How easy it would have been at that time to cling to anything that gave her power. But it was not worth this price.

  ‘He will, Guena,’ the Doctor said. ‘And so he should, because otherwise they’ll kill him and his people too. Conrad is a clever man, and he surrounds himself with clever people. If they want lights – they’ll make lights. If they want heating – they’ll make heating. But they won’t pick up someone else’s toys. They’ll make their own.’

  ‘What about Clara?’ I said. ‘How will we find her now?’

  The Doctor smiled. ‘I’ve got my own ways of finding Clara.’ He opened the door to the box. ‘Step inside,’ he said. ‘I’ve got something truly marvellous to show you.’

  —

  Alone on the hillside, blinking back tears, Clara watched the battle rage. The day wore on and the shadows lengthened, and, as the sun began to set, one of the buildings nea
r the gates caught fire. There was no one to stop it, and soon the blaze had spread across the whole city. Clara thought of the halls she had seen, that even in their decline had managed to be beautiful. All burning. She rubbed her eyes, and her hands came away damp with tears. Then, as night fell, she heard a familiar, heartening sound.

  The TARDIS.

  Once it had completely materialised, the Doctor emerged, looking pensive, and, behind him, looking dazed, came Guena and Bernhardt.

  Clara recognised that look. ‘You know what I’ve said, Doctor,’ she said, trying to keep her voice cheerful. ‘You can’t go around showing people infinity. They get scared.’

  Bernhardt turned to look at the city. Taking Guena’s hand, the two of them stood, watching the fire take their home.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Clara. Slowly, she removed the pendant from around her neck. ‘Here,’ she said, offering it to Guena. ‘You should take this. Something saved from the ruins.’

  She was surprised when Guena pulled away. ‘Those days are gone,’ she said. ‘And they must not return. I will not ask you to keep that in memory of me, Clara, because I am not sure it would turn out well for you.’ She glanced at the Doctor, who shook his head. ‘Bury it,’ she said. ‘Or break it. But do not take it with you.’

  ‘Doctor,’ said Clara, uncertainly. ‘What’s this all about?’

  ‘All those pretty toys,’ said the Doctor. ‘Turns out they weren’t so safe after all.’