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 .’ 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.
‘The Bastille and the carriage,’ he corrected himself.
‘We’ll go back and see,’ she suggested.
Steven thought for a moment before replying. ‘No, no, we won’t. We’ll go to the auberge as planned.’
But as they reached le Grand Pont to cross the river, Steven had an even greater surprise. A carriage
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 .’ 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.
‘The Bastille and the carriage,’ he corrected himself.
‘We’ll go back and see,’ she suggested.
Steven thought for a moment before replying. ‘No, no, we won’t. We’ll go to the auberge as planned.’
But as they reached le Grand Pont to cross the river, Steven had an even greater surprise. A carriage
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