The King's Dragon

Apollo 23 by Justin Richards

Night of the Humans by David Llewel yn The Forgotten Army by Brian Minchin Nuclear Time by Oli Smith The King's Dragon by Una McCormack The Glamour

Chase by Gary Russell

The King's Dragon

UNA McCORMACN

BOOKS

1 3 5 7 9 1 0 8 6 4 2

Published in 2010 by BBC Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing.

A Random House Group Company

Copyright © Una McCormack 2010

Oh Smith has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

Doctor Who is a BBC Wales production for BBC One.

Executive producers: Steven Moffat, Piers Wenger and Beth Willis BBC, DOCTOR WHO and TARDIS (word marks, logos and devices) are trademarks of the British Broadcasting Corporation and are used under licence.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

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ISBN 978 1 846 07990 0

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Commissioning editor: Albert DePetrillo

Series consultant: Justin Richards

Project editor: Steve Tribe

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For Matthew,

of course

'Woe for that man

who in harm and hatred hales his soul

to fiery embraces; nor favor nor change

awaits he ever.'

From Beowulf translated by Francis B. Gummere

They came only at night. They crept around the dark places, the hidden places, the poor and lonely

places.

It was said in the city that you could tell when

they approached. First your skin began to prickle

and then a sickening cold fear lodged itself in your

belly which rose and rose, up and up - until you

could not speak and you could not breathe, and

the lamp that you were carrying couldn't bear it

any longer and went out - phoomph! And then the shadows grew thick and dark, and you could no

longer see round the bend in the alley or the curve in

the road. You could not see the peril that was

lurking ahead, but it was there. And it lingered.

9

DOCTOR WHO

That's what was said. But when you asked the

tale-bearer if he or she had seen these things

themselves, 'Not I!' was the answer. But a cousin, or a

cousin's friend, had heard the tale from someone

else: 'A reputable source, mind you! My cousin is not

one for telling tales!' And you would shake your head

politely and reply, 'No, no! Of course!' But privately you would dismiss the story (again) and return to your

business. For business was booming these days in

Geath. All was well now that the city had its new

young king.

Still, you might think, as you locked the doors, front

and back, and you sealed up the windows, it was

strange how empty the streets became after dusk. It was

strange, too, how we all bolted our doors and our

windows these days.

And each night, someone scurrying down a

narrow alley or across a deserted plaza, on some

business that sadly could not wait til the morning, would fancy that they could see shadows moving ahead,

moving without any wind behind them, this summer

being a hot one.

And some people - the most fanciful, surely, and the

least trustworthy - would add a little colour to their tale.

(For the best of us cannot resist a little colour.) There was a strange noise, they said, like the growl of a wild beast - and some would swear that on the wall of the

passage curving ahead, they

10

THE KING’S DRAGON

had seen the long shadow of a hand, or a claw,

stretching out.

And the funny thing was, they would say, that

this hand had too many fingers...

11

Chapter

1

I don't know why I assumed an alien planet

would be in the future,' Amy said, 'but I did. Flying

cars. Rockets.'

'Food in pills,' Rory said.

'Food in pills, yes. But it's not like that at all. It's more...'

'Olde worlde?' Rory offered.

'Olde worlde,' Amy agreed. 'But not retro.'

They were standing by the side of the road - an

olde-worlde road, without flagstones and with mud.

A few metres ahead of them, the Doctor stood with one

thumb stuck out, his face screwed up in

concentration. He was staring at a horse and cart

that, for the past five minutes, had been making

13

DOCTOR WHO

steady progress down the track towards them. The

driver's attention, however, was focused no further

forwards than the ears of his horse.

'If I'm being honest,' Rory said, 'I didn't expect

horses. Is there any particular reason to expect

horses? On an alien planet, I mean? Or have I

missed something?'

Amy gave it a couple of moments' thought. 'I don't

think you've missed anything.'

The front of the cart was now almost level with the

Doctor. He stuck his thumb out further; the universe's

most intense hitchhiker. Slowly, ever so slowly, the cart rolled past. The golden bells on the harness jingled

merrily.

Amy gave the driver a cheerful salute as he went

on his way. 'Why, Doctor!' she cried. 'Is there anything you can't do?'

For the merest fraction of a second, the Doctor

remained stretched out in his hitchhiking pose. He

looked like a slightly forlorn scarecrow, or a

particularly scruffy stork.

Abruptly, he turned on his heel and rejoined his

friends. His trousers and shirt were splattered in mud.

Brightly, he said, 'Beautiful day! Let's walk!'

The day was very hot for walking so they set a

gentle pace. The afternoon ambled amiably towards

evening and the sun slipped away, although it did

14

THE KING’S DRAGON

not take the heat with it. As the travellers neared

the top of the next hill, a yellow moon put in an

appearance.

'Are we there yet?' Amy called forward.

The Doctor, two steps ahead as ever, said, 'Not

long now.'

'I hope this place is something special, Doctor,'

Amy said. She glanced at Rory, trudging behind

her, his expression murderous. 'For your sake.'

'Top of the hill! Then you'll see why I've

brought you here.' The Doctor — all frantic energy

and hectic delight — reached the top of the hill and

balanced precariously on a gravelly escarpment,

throwing his arms out like a showman.

'The city of Geath!' he cried. 'Revered

throughout the universe for the beauty of its

buildings, the wisdom of its people, the excellence of

its sauces — and, most of all, for the unlikely fact

that, for twelve and a half thousand years, it has

been at peace with its neighbouring cities. Its name is

a byword for hospitality, craftsmanship and

civilised conversation. Forget rockets and flying

cars and food in pills — Geath is something truly

remarkable. A bunch of people who not only don't see

the point of getting into fights with each other, but

have managed not to get into fights for about as a

long as it took your species to get all the way from

hitting each other on the head with

15

DOCTOR WHO

clubs to nuclear bombs... Have I mentioned how

good their sauces are?' He kissed the tips of his

fingers. 'Nothing on your world comes close.'

Rory, struggling to keep his foothold on the

stony slope, said, 'My nan makes good gravy.'

Amy's eyes went hazy with happy memory.

'Oh yes...'

'If you can bring yourselves back for a moment to

the alien planet you're standing on,' the Doctor said,

'and if you ever make it to the top of this hill, I

promise you will see a sight capable of putting

thought even of Sunday lunch out of your head.'

He reached out a hand, Amy took it, and reached

back to Rory in turn. Together they took the last

step up. The clouds in the sky parted and the light

from the setting sun made the valley below them

glow.

Amy gasped.

Rory said, 'Wow.'

The Doctor smiled. 'Exactly.'

In the valley below, a long river wound lazily in

a great curve and, in this bend, lay the city of

Geath. It dazzled. Amy blinked, to little effect, and

was obliged to shield her eyes with her hand to be

able to make out the shape of the city.

It spread up from the river onto hills that lay to

the north in a grand display. It was as if the people of the city had no fear of showing their beautiful

16

THE KING’S DRAGON

home to the wider world. In fact, they wanted

everyone to see. And why not? It glowed in the

sunset; the late light caught upon the red tiles of

the roofs, the yellow buildings, the gold...

As Amy looked more closely, she was able to

pick out detail. The city was laid out in circles:

concentric avenues running in rings that drew her

eye to a central plaza. There, in the heart of the city, stood a huge round building with a great domed

roof.

The dome was golden. Amy reached out her

hand as if to touch it. It was a marvel, smooth and

round and precious, like the egg of a magical

creature. Amy wanted to run her hand across its

surface and feel the sun-tinged metal in her hand.

'Like it?' said the Doctor.

'It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,'

Amy replied.

Rory, in a quiet awed voice, said, 'What is that place?'

'The council chamber,' the Doctor said. 'The

heart of Geath, where its citizens meet to debate,

discuss, deliberate — and eat.' He checked his

watch, tapped its face, then checked it again. 'We

should get a move on.'

Rory was already halfway down the hill. Amy

half-ran and half-slid after him, eager for a proper

look at the astonishing golden hall. Could it be as

17

DOCTOR WHO

glorious up close? Could anything? Turning to

look back, she saw the Doctor standing still on the

hilltop, hands stuck in his pockets. Behind him, it

was starting to get dark.

'Come on!' she called.

The Doctor nodded, as if coming to a decision,

and followed her and Rory down the hill. They

still had some way to go.

As she walked, it occurred to Amy that the driver of

that cart had not shown much of the reputed

hospitality. But it was hardly worth mentioning. No

doubt they looked like a fairly odd bunch of

hitchhikers. She couldn't really blame him for

passing them by.

The track down the hill and their new enthusiasm

soon brought them to the broad paved road that

led into Geath. They crossed the river by means of

a great stone bridge. It was obviously ancient, but

immaculately constructed; the massive blocks smooth

and interlocking. The sun set, but the evening

remained hot, making the promise of the grand

hall and a friendly welcome even more appealing. It

was very quiet. Nobody passed them, walking or

riding, in either direction.

Ten more minutes brought the travellers to an

arched gate in the city walls. The walls were very

high and the gate very locked. Behind them,

18

THE KING’S DRAGON

everything was quiet. A single torch glowed dimly

and they huddled under it.

'Have we got here after closing time?' Amy

asked.

'Closing time? In Geath? No such thing.'

'A locked gate isn't very hospitable,' Rory said.

'No.' The Doctor looked thoughtfully at it.

'Odd, isn't it?'

'Maybe if we let them know we're here they'll be

all smiles,' Amy said.

She reached for the hammer on the door. It

was a fascinating design: it looked like a dragon,

clambering up the gate, its head turned sideways so

that a single ruby red eye could keep watch on the

road leading up to the city. The dragon's long gold

tail curled down to form the door-knocker. Amy

picked up the tail — then dropped it, quickly.

'Doctor, it's warm!'

The Doctor unfurled a long finger and,

tentatively, brushed the tip along the dragon's tail. 'So it is.'

Amy reached to take hold of it again but the

Doctor was there first. She tutted in annoyance.

Why couldn't she be the one to experiment for

once? Out came the sonic screwdriver. Hadn't she

seen it first? Amy watched unhappily as the Doctor

ran his thumb down the scales on the dragon,

almost caressing them.

19

DOCTOR WHO

'Definitely odd,' he said. Then he picked up the

long tail and banged it hard against the gate.

There was a pause, a thump, and then

somebody cursed inventively. The spy-hole in the

gate opened.

The Doctor stuck his face up close and grinned

through. 'Hello! How are you? Can we come in?'

'Who's there? What do you want?'

The Doctor fumbled in his pocket and pulled out

his psychic paper. He held it up closer to the hole in

the gate.

The keeper muttered a reply.

'Sorry,' the Doctor said. 'Having a bit of trouble

hearing you! Big wooden gate in the way!'

'I said I can't read!'

'Ah.' The Doctor stared down at the paper. 'Of

course. Oral culture. That's a design flaw, isn't it?'

There was another series of thumps from behind

the gate, which then opened a crack.

'But the wife can,' said the gatekeeper. 'So you'd

better come in.' He peered behind the Doctor and

shook his head at Amy and Rory. 'Not them. Only

you.'

Th e D o c to r we nt t h r o u g h the g ate ,

unapologetically looking back over his shoulder at

his friends.

They stood there for almost two whole minutes

before Amy muttered, 'Bored now!' She waved at

20

THE KING’S DRAGON

Rory. 'Come on, then. Leg up.'

'What?'

'If they won't let me in through the gate, I'm

going over the wall.'

'Amy, can't you wait for once?'

'Not a chance!'

'But what if they don't let the Doctor through?

Then you'll be stuck in there—'

Patiently, Amy explained. 'No - I'll be on the

inside and can come and open the gate once the

keeper has gone back into his house. Hands,

please.'

About three and a half seconds later, Rory was

crouching with his hands clasped together in front of

him. Amy was standing on them and scrabbling up

the wall.

'Sometimes,' Rory said to Amy's left shin, 'I feel

like I've spent my entire life doing things like this.

And then I start to worry that I'm going to spend

the rest of my life doing things like this... Amy!

That's my face you're standing on!'

'Nothing vital, then.'

'Thanks a lot!' He pushed her up, she pushed

too - and then she was sitting on top of the wall. A

sudden thought struck him. 'Amy - what do we do if

the Doctor does persuade them to open the gate?'

'What?'

21

DOCTOR WHO

'There'll only be one of us. One of me! Here! By

myself!'

Amy grinned down at him. 'You'll think of

something. You usually do.' Then she swung over

the wall and was gone.

Inevitably, the gate opened a split-second

later. The Doctor breezed out with the gatekeeper

scurrying behind him.

'No need to apologise! Easy mistake to make!'

the Doctor said cheerily. Then he saw Rory,

standing by himself, and frowned.

The gatekeeper tapped the Doctor's arm.

'Excuse me for asking, but I thought you said two

companions?'

'So I did,' the Doctor replied.

'She... got tired and went home,' Rory offered.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. 'You mentioned a

carriage?' he said to the gatekeeper, as Rory came

sheepishly through the gate.

'On its way,' the gatekeeper said. 'Don't want you

wandering around the city at night, do we?' 'Don't

we?' said the Doctor.

'Well, dark night, empty streets, you never

know who's hanging around.'

The Doctor scratched his nose. 'Don't you?'

'Still, better than it used to be. Time was anyone

could walk into Geath, any time, day or night! Can

you believe it?'

22

THE KING’S DRAGON

He swung the gate closed. It gave a loud

thump, as the Doctor said, softly, 'Why is that a

bad thing?'

Amy slipped round to the back of the gatehouse.

She could hear the Doctor speaking - quickly, so

that the gatekeeper (and, presumably, his wife)

didn't get much of a chance - but she couldn't

make out any words. Never mind. As long as the

Doctor was talking, he'd be keeping them busy

and away from her. She inched around the side of the

house, coming to a halt near a window. Slowly, she

leaned forwards to peer inside.

The room was crammed full of gold. The

candlesticks were made of gold. The poker and fire-

irons were made of gold. The door handle - yes, that

looked a lot like gold. There was gold stitching on the

curtains and on the cloth that covered the small table

below the window upon which cutlery (gold) and

plate (gold) were laid out. All of it gleamed in the

candlelight. Two comfortable chairs stood facing

each other companionably. Gold cushions rested

plumply upon them. It was a tiny, very cosy treasure

vault.

'What,' Amy muttered to the absent gatekeeper, 'is

your scam, exactly?'

She tried the window. It opened. Carefully, still

listening out for the conversation going on round

23

DOCTOR WHO

the front of the building, Amy leaned inside,

exactly far enough to be able to touch one of the

spoons on the table. It too was warm. More than

that, it was...

Wriggling.

'Whoa!' Amy jerked back her hand. 'Now that is

the most freakish thing in a whole world of

freakishness!'

She was about to test it again, but the

conversation at the front of the house was finishing.

Quickly, she pulled the window down again and

slipped back into the shadow of the wall.

The gate was open. Rory slunk in, tail between his

legs.

'Poor Rory,' Amy whispered to him. 'I'm

guessing you didn't think of something.'

She edged round to the road, keeping to the

shadows. The Doctor was gabbling away, at the

gatekeeper and his wife. Then a carriage pulled

up. A golden carriage.

'How lucky you are,' gushed the gatekeeper's

wife, as Rory and the Doctor clambered into their

carriage. 'You're going to meet the King! The

King!'

'King?' Rory whispered to the Doctor, as they

took their seats. 'I thought this was a republic or

something.'

24

THE KING’S DRAGON

'It is. It was.' The Doctor leaned over to open the door on the other side of the carriage. Amy hopped

in. 'Hurry up!' said the Doctor. 'We're going to

meet the King!'

'King?'

Amy

nodded

back

towards

the

gatehouse. 'You should see how the other half

lives.'

The carriage clattered along. The Doctor frowned

out of the window, beyond which the city of Geath

gleamed silently. Rory and Amy waited patiently.

Eventually, the Doctor held up some fingers.

'There are three things wrong here. Firstly, as Rory

pointed out, the people of Geath don't have a king.

They have a council. They have elections. They

have made an art form out of elections. That's the first thing wrong.'

One of the Doctor's fingers went down. He

stopped talking and resumed frowning. Amy and

Rory exchanged a look.

The carriage continued through the deserted

city. They went down long curved avenues,

through little plazas with statues and fountains at

the centre, caught glimpses of covered steps

leading up the hill and alleyways leading down to

the river - but they saw nobody. The carriage rattled

into a plaza bigger than any they had passed through

yet and far more elaborately gilded. The

25

DOCTOR WHO

torchlight glittered on the thick metal that coated

the fronts of the buildings. A deep-noted bell

gouged; once, twice.

Amy jumped. 'This place is giving me the

creeps.'

Crossing the plaza, the carriage came to a halt.

The travellers climbed out and found themselves in

front of a huge round building. This had to be

the hall they had seen from the hilltop, Amy

thought; the one with the magical dome. That was

too high for her to see it clearly; looking up she

saw instead a haze of soft light rising above the

hall. The walls of the building were enamelled;

the decoration more intricate than anything she

had seen so far, with swirling spiral patterns that

bewildered her eye when she looked for more than a

few seconds. Two men stood on guard in front of

the hall's big arched doors. There was nobody else in

sight. Silence enveloped the city, a watchful, anxious

silence. The night heat was cloying. Amy looked at

the golden hall and gave a shudder of trepidation.

'The second thing that's wrong,' the Doctor said, 'is

that the streets are empty. Geathians live their lives

out in the streets and the plazas. Daytime: they sit

outside and work and talk. Night-time: they sit

outside and eat and talk. So where is everyone?

Why are they hiding away and locking

26

THE KING’S DRAGON

their doors?' He put one more finger down.

The two guards came towards them, bowed

low, and gestured at them to come inside. They

walked into a wide white corridor with an arched

roof; there were alcoves at intervals along each

wall, and in each of these some golden artefact was on

display: vases, statues, figures clasping gilded lamps.

The further in they went, the more lavish these

objects became, as if they were drawing nearer

and nearer to the source of it all.

'The third thing that's wrong,' said the Doctor,

'and, speaking for myself, I think this probably

comes under the heading "most wrong" — is that gold doesn't occur naturally on this world. Not an

ingot, not a leaf, not a flake. There shouldn't be

any gold.' He glanced back down the corridor. 'But

there is. There's quite a lot of gold.'

They came to a pair of double doors. One of the

guards pushed these open, and the companions

walked through into a huge chamber, full of

light and music and people. The Doctor still had

one finger raised. It stayed raised and, as Amy

watched, those closest to them began to notice.

They fell silent; they nudged the next group along,

who looked round and, seeing the Doctor, also fell

silent. The clamour of conversation lessened

steadily and the music faltered. Soon the hall

was in complete silence and everybody in it was

27

DOCTOR WHO

looking their way.

The Doctor waggled his finger in greeting.

'Hello! I'm the Doctor. No, don't get up.'

28

Chapter

2

A chamber full of courtiers glared at them. The

Doctor beamed back, his smile like a ray of pure

white light through the hostile, shimmering

room. Hundreds of people were gathered there,

glorious in their finery, as if the jewel-drenched and

fantastic figures of a mosaic had stepped down and

taken shape in the real world.

Amy looked around in amazement. If the

gatehouse had been stuffed with gold, this place

was smothered in it.

'Blimey,' Rory whispered. 'Bling Central.'

Suddenly, as if someone had breathed life into

them, or turned their key, the courtiers began to

move apart, as methodically as dancers, half

29

DOCTOR WHO

of them shifting to one side of the great round

chamber, half to the other. As they moved, the

heart of the hall was slowly revealed: the source of

the glamour, the place from which it all sprang.

Raised up on a dais, apart from the rest of the

gathering, a young man sat on a golden throne. He

was tall and strong and handsome, and he wore a

narrow circlet of gold around his head. Standing at

his right shoulder, tactfully behind him, was

another man. He was only slightly older, although

his dark clothes were very severe, and he looked

almost nondescript compared to everyone else in

the hall. The only decoration he wore was on his

left hand, which was covered in fabulous rings.

These two men, however, were not quite the star

attraction. Curled up in front of the throne, one

red eye fixed upon the entrance of the chamber

and thus upon the travellers, was a huge, sinuous,

golden dragon.

'So... which one's the King?' whispered Amy.

Rory turned his laugh into a cough. The Doctor

raised a remonstrative eyebrow.

The silence stretched on, charged and distinctly

unwelcoming. Then the older of the two men

leaned forwards and whispered something in the

King's ear. The young man burst out laughing. So

did the Doctor. Within seconds the whole room

was in uproar, from the gaudiest toady to the

30

THE KING’S DRAGON

lowliest hanger-on.

The King clapped his hands together. The

room fell instantly silent. He rose up from his

throne, taller than everyone around him, stronger,

confident of his beauty and his power. He was like a

lazy, well-fed lion, muscular and commanding.

'Nice,' Amy said, appreciatively.

The King smiled down at the new arrivals. 'To

our friends and neighbours,' he said, 'I, Beol, King of

Geath, offer a most hearty welcome. Come, my

friends! Come and join me! Come and speak with

me!'

'Hooray!'

cried

the

Doctor.

'All

friends!

Marvellous! Amy, let's go and pay our respects to

our host. Rory,' he put his hand against Rory's

shoulder and gave him a gentle shove, 'mingle.'

His voice dropped. 'And listen. Both of you.'

'Neighbours, Doctor?' Amy muttered, as they

made their way through the curious whispering

crowd.

'Oh, the psychic paper, you know,' he said

offhandedly. Reaching the foot of the dais, he

swept out an outrageous bow. 'Friend! Lord! King of

Geath! Love what you've done with the place — and what,' he spun round to look at the dragon, 'do we have here?'

The man behind the throne jumped forwards.

'Don't touch it!'

31

DOCTOR WHO

The Doctor's long hands, bare millimetres away

from a great golden haunch of dragon, swung up

again, palms out. 'All right, won't touch. Hey, nice

rings! Who are you?'

'He's my Teller,' Beol said. He seemed to be

entertained by the scene unfolding in front of

him.

'Teller, Doctor?' Amy murmured.

'Oh, you know,' the Doctor said. 'Oral cultures —

always someone whose job it is to do the

memorising and the storytelling. Not to mention

the spin-doctoring.'

'So nothing to do with counting the cash?'

'Not usually. But then there's a lot of "not

usually" going on around here. A whole heap. A

hoard. This is Amy, by the way,' he said to Beol.

'Amy, say hello to the King.'

Amy lifted her hand to hip-height and gave a

little wave. 'Urn... hello.'

Beol, in return, delivered up a heart-stopping

smile.

'Wow,' Amy said. 'And we get Prince Charles.'

'That's aristocracies for you,' said the Doctor.

'You never know what's going to come out. Bit like a

tombola. Where did you say you'd found this

dragon?'

'We didn't,' said the Teller. 'Where did you say

you'd come from?'

32

THE KING’S DRAGON

'Dant, wasn't it?' said the King. Something was

definitely amusing him.

The Doctor produced another ludicrous bow.

'From the people of Dant, greetings and all the

best and, urn, cheers. So - the dragon? Can't be

many of these lying around. Where did you dig

this one up?'

Beol turned to his Teller and gave him an odd

smile. 'Why don't you tell them?'

There seemed to be some private joke going on

between them, although the Teller wasn't laughing.

He looked put out.

'Be seated, my friends,' Beol said to the Doctor

and Amy. 'He tells this tale so very well.'

He clapped his hands again. Servants carried up

two ornate chairs onto the dais. Beol gestured to

them to sit down.

'Last question for the moment, Doctor,' Amy

said, as they took their seats. 'Dant?'

'Don't know... Hang on, yes I do, next city

along. Up the river and left a bit.'

'And that's where we're from?'

'Apparently.' He gave her his lopsided grin.

'Citizens of Dant, though! Well done us!'

'I know!'

'Noticed anything yet?'

'Yes. That dragon. Is it me, or is it, sort of,

oozing? Or something?'

33

DOCTOR WHO

The Doctor's smile switched off. 'It's not you.'

Rory drifted obediently through the room and

listened to the conversation. He soon realised that

everyone was talking about the same thing. Beol.

Who had seen Beol, who had spoken to Beol, what

Beol said, how he said it, and what he was wearing at

the time. Not all of what Rory heard had the ring of

truth and, in fact, the further away he got from the

centre of the hall, the more fanciful the stories

became and the more they carried with them the

distinct

whiff

of

desperation.

'Help,'

Rory

muttered. 'I'm a prisoner in Heat magazine.' He inched his way to the edge of the crowd and looked

for a quiet spot where he could observe people in

peace.

A covered arcade ran around the perimeter of

the room, providing a haven for those who found

the bustle close to the dais too much. Chairs and

tables had been placed between its columns. These

were mostly deserted, apart from one, at which an old

woman sat, alone. Her chin was propped up on her

hands and she stared out across the hall with a bored

expression. Seeing that Rory was looking at her, she

gestured to him to join her. When he got close, she

rose up from her seat and, with some ceremony,

pulled out a chair for him.

'Hello,' Rory said, as he sat down. 'I'm Rory.'

34

THE KING’S DRAGON

Why did it sound better when the Doctor said it?

The old woman gave a brisk nod of the head.

'And I'm Hilthe. Welcome to Geath.'

'Thank you.'

'I haven't seen you here before,' she said.

'I haven't been here before. First time in

Geath.'

'Yes? Then tell me, Rory, what do you think of

my city?'

Rory gazed out across the chamber at the

glamorous gathering and then up at the

shimmering light-filled dome. He could not see

Beol, or the dragon, but he knew they were there,

and he could easily picture how magnificent they

both looked. 'I think it's amazing.'

Hilthe reached for a bottle and another glass. 'I

think it's tasteless.'

The glass chinked against the bottle. Rory

blinked. Suddenly everything around him seemed

garish and flashy. The gold was a slick coating over

the hall's true beauties. When Rory peered past it,

he was able to see how the hall had once appeared.

Pale stone and subtle frescoes; measured and

delicate. 'That's the trouble with bling.'

'Bling?'

Rory gestured around them. 'All this stuff.

Showy. You know.'

'Bling.' Hilthe rolled the word around, trying

35

DOCTOR WHO

it out. 'I like that. I'll remember it.' She pushed a

glass towards him. 'Drink up. It makes the evening

pass more quickly.'

From the centre of the hall, applause broke

out. It rippled outwards, until soon the people

standing at the edge near their table were clapping

and pressing forwards. Hilthe sighed. 'Here comes

our bedtime story. Same story, every night. And

every night, they hang on the Teller's every word.

They've all gone quite mad.' Her voice took on a

note of cheerful desperation. 'Or I'm getting old. Or

both.'

'The same story? What's it about?'

'How brave Beol won the dragon and brought it

to Geath.' She spoke violently, almost viciously. That

was when Rory noticed she wasn't wearing any

gold. 'What else could we possibly want to hear

about?'

Rory got up from his seat to look over the crowd,

trying to see what was happening in the centre of

the hall. The older man, the one who had been

standing behind the King — the Teller, presumably —

walked to the front of the dais. He made a brief show

of reluctance but the crowd cheered him on. From

deep within the hall, a chant arose, taken up by

everyone until it boomed around the dome. It was

the King's name: Beol! Beol! Beol!

'See what I mean?' Hilthe said. 'They've all

36

THE KING’S DRAGON

gone mad.'

The man lifted up his left hand. The rings on it

glittered sharply in the lamplight. The crowd fell

silent. 'So,' he said, and then paused for effect.

Hilthe groaned and reached for her bottle. 'Here

we go again...'

The Tale of the King and the Dragon

'Hear now,' said the Teller, 'great men and women

gathered here in the heart-hall of Geath, how

Beol—'

Hearing the name, the crowd said, 'Ah!'

'How Beol, of all men bravest and boldest,

haled to this high hall a gift of great worth—' The

Teller flung out his arm.

'Ooh!' said the crowd.

' — hear now how Sheal was shorn of the golden

worm —'

'Is he alliterating?' whispered Amy to the

Doctor.

'It's the form. It's how it's done. Shush! Want to

listen.'

Amy settled back in her chair and got

comfortable. The hall was very full and very warm.

The light from the lamps and the torches filled the

place with a soft gold haze that imbued it with a

dreamy feeling. Amy closed her eyes.

When you listened carefully, she thought, the

37

DOCTOR WHO

Teller's voice had a lot going for it. He used it like a musical instrument - one moment dropping down to

a whisper that made Amy lean in to catch his

words, the next moment bellowing out a war cry

and making her jump back. There was something

else too - his voice conjured up vivid images in her

mind. She could picture in detail everything he

described - not like television, little images

flickering away in the corner of the room - this

was more immediate, more immersive, like a lucid

dream. It swept you up and carried you along.

Amy followed the Teller as he led her through

Beol's deeds: she gasped at the King's audacity,

tricking his way into the city of Sheal; she laughed

herself nearly into hiccups to hear the way he

made such fools out of the townsfolk; she chewed

her nails at the suspense of him creeping through

the city; and she thrilled at the knockdown fight

with the guards. And then he laid hands upon the

dragon...

Amy opened her eyes. There it was, lying at the

heart of the city, the red slit of its eye watching, its mouth curved in a hungry smile. The Teller's tale

went on without her. Amy leaned forwards in her

chair, mesmerised by the hugeness of the dragon

and the beauty of it. She marvelled at the craft that

must have gone into each scale upon its back, the

long flat ears, the elegant snout, the humming...

38

THE KING’S DRAGON

Humming? Amy shook her head. Yes, she could

hear humming: a faint and distant chord that was

pitched perfectly with the Teller's rich tones. Was it

the musicians, accompanying him? Amy listened more

closely. No, it was too precise for that. This sound

was mechanical... Amy strained to listen. And then

she heard something else — behind the Teller's voice,

behind the dragon's music. A whisper in her mind,

inchoate and almost suppressed, but she could just

make out the sense of it. The whisper said: Wil it come back tonight? Wil the monster come back tonight?

Monster? Fear clawed at Amy and she began to

tremble. She looked round the room, but she could

only see strangers, alien strangers on an alien

world. She was quite alone.

Suddenly, the Teller's voice swooped up in

anger. Amy jumped. He was describing the pursuit of

Beol made by the people of Sheal in their anger at

the theft of the dragon. They chased him like a

vagabond up hill and down dale, set their dogs after

him ('Boo!' hissed the crowd), but at last he came to

Geath, and he brought the dragon with him. But

Sheal was angry. The crowd shivered in fear at

this threat — but then the Teller soothed them,

reminded them how Beol had won once and would

win again. Beol was their King, he said. Beol

would protect them.

39

DOCTOR WHO

'Amy. Amy.' Someone spoke softly in her ear,

breaking the spell. It was the Doctor. 'What is it?

Can you hear something?'

The tale ended. The crowd broke into rapturous

applause. Beol! they cried. Beol! Beol! The name dispelled all fear. Amy shook her head. 'I heard

nothing.' And what had she heard, really - a

whisper, a hum, a story? She nodded at the Teller.

'He's good, isn't he?'

Hilthe sat up with sudden interest. 'Now this is

new! Whenever he's told this story before, he's

always said that Beol won the dragon from the

people of Dant. But this time it's from the people of

Sheal. I wonder what that could mean...' Hilthe

glanced round the hall and shook her head. 'Not

that it makes any difference to this lot. I doubt

anyone else has even noticed. He could tell them

they brought it back from the moon and they'd

believe him.'

'Is any of the story true?' Rory asked.

'Some of it. They did ride into town with that

dragon on a cart behind them. Quite an old cart -

one of the wheels was about to fall off. From the

way he tells it now you'd think it was a chariot,

with half a hundred acrobats behind.'

'What happened next?'

'We assumed at first that they were showmen.

40

THE KING’S DRAGON

And then Beol challenged me to debate with him.

Which I did and, after that, we did what we do

best. We held an election. Which Beol won - and I

lost.'

There was a whole world of disappointment

compressed into those few words. 'I'm sorry,' Rory

said gently.

Hilthe patted his hand. 'Thank you. Very kind of

you. Once I would have said that such is the nature

of things, that fortune's wheel can turn in an

instant - but immediately the city began to

change. Not only in appearance - although that is

certainly startling enough - but in the way it talked.

Beol stopped being Councillor and instead was called

King. And then we began to hear that the people of

Dant and Sheal and Jutt were jealous of us and our

new wealth, and that we must be watchful, and

trust Beol to protect us...'

On the dais, the Teller brought his story to a

close. The crowd burst into rapturous applause.

The King rose and bowed and left the hall, the

Teller close behind.

Hilthe watched them go. 'And so Beol will

protect us, the Teller says. Protect us from whom?

We have never needed protecting in the past.'

Now that the King had gone, the courtiers left,

flowing quickly past the table at which Hilthe and

Rory sat. Beol's name was on everyone's lips; Beol's

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DOCTOR WHO

daring, Beol's courage. Hilthe sighed. 'It is very

strange to watch people you have known and loved all

the long years of your life change so swiftly into

strangers. Perhaps I missed something? Perhaps

they can see something that I cannot see?'

The room was almost empty. It felt tawdry and

cold. Hilthe looked lost and sad. Rory pressed her

hand. 'I don't think you missed anything. I think

you're the only one seeing straight.'

A smile returned to the corners of the old

woman's mouth and some sparkle to her eyes.

'Young man, I entirely agree with you!' As she got

up to leave, Hilthe reached into her purse and

brought out a small circular piece of tile. 'Thank

you,' she said. 'If you don't mind listening to an

old woman talk about the good old days - come

and find me. I can talk about the good old days for

ever.' She handed him the tile, bowed her head in

farewell, and then ducked into the shadows of the

arcade, leaving by another route to avoid the crowd.

A complex of rooms surrounded the council

chamber, and the three travellers were assigned a

suite a short walk away from the hall.

The Doctor checked the corridor outside, and

then turned to his companions. 'Right. Pockets.'

Amy and Rory stared at him blankly. 'I'll go first,

42

THE KING’S DRAGON

shall I?' The Doctor removed his jacket. He brushed

fruitlessly at some of the mud spatters, turned the

jacket upside down and gave it a shake.

Gold poured onto the bed. Coins. Chains. A

couple of forks. Another shake. Another fork. The

Doctor picked it up and wondered at it. 'Forks...

forks... what is it about forks all of a sudden?' He

nodded at Rory. 'Your turn.'

Slowly, Rory emptied his pockets. Coins. More

coins. A couple of rings. A few bracelets. 'Nice,'

said the Doctor. 'Not really your style. Amy? What do

you have for us?'

Amy stared at the treasure in disbelief. 'I don't

know what you two have been up to, but I've not

spent the whole evening pilfering!'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Check your pockets. You

never know what might have fallen into them.'

'Nothing has "fallen into" my pockets!'

'Give it a go anyway.'

With much reluctance, Amy shoved her hand

into a pocket - and pulled out a spoon. It was the

one from the gatehouse. Amy stared down at it,

warm in her hand. She had no recollection of

picking it up. Under oath, she would have sworn

she had only touched it.

'Try your other pocket.' The Doctor was

watching her closely, his deep-set eyes dark and

intense. Amy pulled out a necklace. She pooled

43

DOCTOR WHO

it into her palm. 'I don't even remember seeing

this!'

'I'm sure you don't,' the Doctor replied. 'I don't

remember much after the first fork and I was

concentrating.' He took the necklace from her

hand and added it to the pile. He hopped onto the

bed and sat cross-legged, hunched over the loot,

stirring it around with one finger. 'What about the

rest?' he said. 'What are we not telling each other?'

'What do you mean?' said Rory.

'We were there for about two hours—' 'Really?'

Amy was startled. She hadn't noticed the time

pass.

'Mm. So think. What did you see? What did

you hear?'

'There was a king and a dragon...' Amy said

slowly. She laughed. 'You were there - you could

hardly miss the pair of them!'

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and

switched it on, directing it at the gold. 'A king and a

dragon. Anything else?'

'I got talking to an old woman...' Mid-sentence,

Rory seemed to change his mind about what he

was going to say. 'Doesn't matter, it wasn't that

interesting.'

Under the sonic screwdriver's pale beam, the

metal began to shift and change and liquefy. A

44

THE KING’S DRAGON

haze gathered over it, like mist over the moon. 'The

Teller told us how Beol won the dragon — hey, he

was good, wasn't he?' Amy said, but as she spoke

she remembered something else, something on the

very edge of her memory, something that filled her

with dread... She shook her head. No. That was

rubbish. That was because the Teller was good at

what he did. Like a scary movie. 'Oh, Doctor, you

were sitting right next to me, you heard everything I

did!'

'Yes. Yes, I did.' The Doctor switched off the

sonic. The glow around the treasure disappeared.

'It's not gold, of course,' he said. 'There isn't any

gold on Geath. I won't bore you with the full

technical name because it would take the best part of

two minutes to say it. Besides, it's more famous under

its trade name. Enamour.'

The Doctor unfolded himself from his sitting

position and picked up his jacket. He gave his

jacket another shake which didn't result in any

more treasure and didn't remove any more

mud. 'And when I say "famous", what I mean is

"infamous". Enamour is banned throughout all

self-respecting galactic civilisations and in most of

the disreputable ones too. It's advanced and highly

dangerous technology, and what it's doing on a

pre-industrial world like this I don't know.' He laid

his jacket out carefully on the bed in front

45

DOCTOR WHO

of him and stared down as if it was a particularly

difficult puzzle. Then he shoved his arms into the

sleeves and flung it back over the top of his head.

Somehow, he ended up wearing it. 'But I want to

take a closer look at that dragon. Find out where it

came from.' He turned to his friends. 'Are you

coming or are you staying?'

' U r n . . . ' s a i d R o r y . ' W h e n y o u s a y

"dangerous" ...?'

'I mean dangerous - and not in a safe way. Are

you coming?'

Amy laughed. 'What do you think?' She was first to

the door - which meant she was first through it when

the howling started in the corridor beyond.

46

Chapter

3

Outside, the corridor was dark, apart from a single lamp on the wall where the passage bent away

towards the right. That was still burning, but as

Amy watched, its flame withered and died. The

howl grew louder. The low growl rose quickly in

pitch until it was an eldritch shriek that made

Amy's teeth tingle. Whatever was making all this

racket was round the bend in the corridor.

Amy ran after it. As she swung round the

corner, she saw the lamps gutter and die, one by

one, plunging the way ahead into shadow. The

screech stopped. Behind her, Rory shouted, 'Amy!

Where are you? Wait!' But the lamps were going

out more quickly, so she gathered pace and ran to

47

DOCTOR WHO

catch up with the darkness. She heard the growl

again, coming from ahead, rising up and drowning

out Rory's voice.

Then the walls fell away from her. The howling

stopped. 'Hello?' Amy called out, her voice echoing

slightly. 'Who's there?' She peered ahead and, as

her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was standing in

a chamber about a quarter of the size of the

council hall, as far as she could tell. A meeting

place, perhaps, or a reception room. Nearby, a

single lamp burned bravely. Through its slender

light Amy glimpsed pale frescoes, ghostly figures

dancing on the walls and, deep in the gloom, the

glitter of gold, or Enamour, or whatever it was the

Doctor called it. Beyond that, the room was

completely dark, although, at the edge of her

perception, she was sure something was moving,

scratching, growling...

Amy took a deep breath. 'Right. Time for a

closer look.' She lifted the lamp from its holding

and, heart pounding, took a slow step forward. She

held the light up and out in front of her, trying to

get some real sense of what lay ahead. Two steps,

three... and then the torch she was carrying began to

flicker. 'Don't even think about it!' she told it.

But the lamp had its own plans — or, rather,

something had plans for the lamp. Because it

didn't simply go out — it was pulled out. To Amy's 48

THE KING’S DRAGON

astonishment, the flame spun into a long thin

golden thread, which was dragged across the

room, where it was ravelled up and soon gone.

'Now that is just not fair!'

Deep in the darkness, whatever-it-was moved: two

quick steps across the tiled floor. Amy jumped away,

crashing to a halt when her back hit the wall of the

chamber. The howl was low and rumbling and

definitely a threat; a threat that was gaining ground,

like an air-raid siren warning you of the approach of

something terrible. It was a sound to keep you

awake at night. More steps towards where Amy

stood. Then she saw it, half-visible, barely a

condensation of the darkness itself.

It was humanoid but elongated. Its limbs were

thin and stretched, like the long black branches of a

tree in winter, and they were growing longer. The

creature's reach extended rapidly, spreading out

from its side of the chamber towards Amy. She

held her dead lamp up in front of her, a poor useless

shield. To the shadow, she said, 'So there really is a

monster. You'd think I'd know better by now. Hello,

monster!'

Its jaws hinged open and it screamed back.

'Not much of a talker, eh? That's fine. I don't

mind doing the talking.'

Its huge metalled arm stretched out towards

her, scaled like the hide of a dragon. Amy held the

49

DOCTOR WHO

lamp aloft. 'I come in peace!'

The creature unfurled its long fingers, too many

fingers. Amy flinched back against the wall. 'Urn... help?'

None came. But, as the first flood of emergency

adrenalin subsided a little, Amy realised that lack of

help might be less of a problem than she feared. The

beast loomed darkly over her. Yes, it was big; yes, it was scary; yes, it was making enough of a noise that any

second the dead were going to wake up and knock on

the wall and complain about the racket and ask why a

hard-working corpse couldn't get any sleep around here

— but it wasn't actually coming any closer... If anything, it was keeping a slight distance; studying her,

examining her...

Slowly, tentatively, Amy reached out to touch the

creature in front of her. Her hand went right through

it. The insubstantial giant shuddered, flickered half-

in and half-out of sight, and then vanished.

All the lamps came back on, fiercely. Amy nearly

dropped the one she was holding. Carefully, hands

shaking, she put it back in its place on the wall,

scolding it as she did so. 'Where were you when I

needed you most?' With the lamp back in place, and

breathing deeply to steady herself, she turned to take a look round. The room was empty, apart from the big

stash of gold heaped up in the

50

THE KING’S DRAGON

middle, gleaming prettily under the lamps.

Amy shook her head. 'Huh.' She went over to the

gold. Cups and goblets; rings and brooches.

Beautiful. She picked up one of the brooches. It

had a lovely sheen about it, almost an aura,

something that seemed separate from and yet at

the same time intrinsic to the metal. She turned it

over in her hands. It felt soft, like silk rippling

between her fingers. And it was so very lovely...

She was fixing the brooch to her jacket when Rory

burst into the room.

'Amy!' He ran over to her. 'All you all right?

What happened?'

Amy admired the brooch and then picked up a

necklace from the top of the pile. 'Hmm?'

'What happened?'

She gave him a puzzled look. 'Nothing

happened. The lights went out. I came in here and

found some gold. Enamour. Whatever. Do you like

my brooch?'

'What? Yes, it's very nice. Amy, what about the

noise?'

'What noise?'

'You know!' Rory shrieked. 'That noise.'

'Oh, that.' Amy shrugged. 'I don't know. The

wind, maybe. Trapped in the corridor. These old

buildings, no proper insulation. Do you think this

necklace is too much with the brooch?'

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DOCTOR WHO

'The wind?' Rory was unconvinced. 'Do you

think so?'

'Rory,' she said impatiently, 'if there was

anything else, then I'd tell you, wouldn't I. OK?'

She decided the necklace worked, put it on, and

turned to go. Then she saw the Doctor.

He was standing by the door, leaning back

against the wall, tapping the sonic screwdriver

against his cheek. He was frowning. Tall and thin

and alien, much scarier than any creeping shadow or

sleeping dragon. Amy looked away, suddenly

feeling 7 years old again and knowing that the

stranger in the garden with the box of delights

was disappointed in her. And then she felt cross

with him, not only for leaving that 7-year-old

behind after promising to be back, but because he

didn't believe her now. She lifted her chin and looked

him straight in the eye. 'There was nothing actually

there,' she said firmly. 'It was all a trick of the light.'

The Doctor pushed himself up from the wall.

'All right,' he said pleasantly. He slipped the sonic

screwdriver into his pocket. 'Well, as I was saying

before we were so rudely interrupted, I'd like a

closer look at that dragon.'

'Won't there be a guard on it?' Rory said.

'They're not going to let us wander in and take a

poke at their precious dragon, are they?'

52

THE KING’S DRAGON

'When did that ever stop us?' Amy said, lightly.

She walked past the Doctor and out of the chamber

without meeting his eye again. 'Coming, boys?'

They came. The three of them crept back through

the complex to the council chamber. Amy walked

slightly behind and tried to clear her thoughts.

'No,' she said eventually, more to herself than

anyone else, her fingers tangled in her new

necklace. 'It was definitely a trick of the light. Too

much imagination in the dark.'

'That's what you said before,' Rory replied.

'Because if the wind was howling around the

corridors, it could have blown the lamps out, too,

couldn't it? Couldn't it have been the wind?'

'Yes, the wind could have blown the lights

out.'

So whatever she had seen — if in fact she had

seen anything at all — it must have been her

imagination. Yes, her imagination. This was

what happened when you hung around with the

Doctor. You started to believe there were monsters in

every corridor, when it was only some wind

rattling at the windows. But how did that explain

the lingering feeling of dread? The sense that

someone was coming, that something terrible was

about to happen? That someone was watching her?

'Stupid creepy place,' she muttered. 'Imagination.

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DOCTOR WHO

Definitely. Trick of the light.'

'Amy,' Rory said. 'Nobody's disagreeing with

you.'

'Well, good,' she said. 'Quite right, too.'

'Although,' Rory added, 'I don't quite see how the

wind blew the lamps alight again.'

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. 'I

wonder,' he said in exasperation, 'if we could talk

a little less. This being an attempt at stealth,

remember? And trying not to attract any attention

and all the rest of it? Just a suggestion.'

Rory and Amy nodded. The Doctor walked on,

and they trailed guiltily behind him. Then he

stopped again. 'Ah.'

Amy peered over his shoulder. The doors to the

council chamber were round the next bend in the

corridor, but two of Beol's knights were standing in

front of them. 'Are there guards?' asked Rory in a

stage whisper. 'I said there'd be guards.'

Amy put her hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

'Right, what's the plan?'

'Plan?'

'I bet it's brilliant.'

'Brilliant.'

'I bet it's so brilliant I could see my own face in

it.'

Behind them, Rory said, 'We could always try

the side entrance.'

54

THE KING’S DRAGON

The Doctor and Amy, turning to look at him,

said in unison, 'What side entrance?'

Rory shoved his hands in his pockets and stared

down at his feet. 'There's usually one, isn't there? I

think I saw some people leave that way earlier... I

was sitting over on the side, yes? Not everyone went

out of the main doors... Look, it was "just a

suggestion"!'

Roughly five and a half minutes later, the three of

them came to a halt before an unprepossessing and

unguarded door. The Doctor tried the handle. It

opened without creaking. 'And we're in!' he said softly

and gleefully. He slipped inside, Amy and Rory

following close behind, and the travellers found

themselves in the arcade that ran around the

perimeter of the council chamber.

The hall itself was dark and deserted.

Everything was in shadow which only an hour or

two earlier had been so full and busy. Up on the

dais, two lamps burned behind the throne. The

dragon glowed palely. The Doctor made straight for

it. He knelt down in front of it and patted it on the

snout.

'Don't worry,' he said to it, aiming the sonic

screwdriver into its half-open eye. 'This won't

hurt.'

The beast shuddered. 'Whoa! Down boy!' The

Doctor switched off the sonic, moved round to the

55

DOCTOR WHO

side of the dragon and then - gently, ever so gently -

used it again to remove a tiny piece of metal from the

dragon's side. 'Come here, both of you,' he said to

Amy and Rory. 'Come and take a closer look at raw

Enamour.'

It was only a scrap - a tiny scale - nestling in the

palm of the Doctor's hand. But it was so smooth,

and its colour so pure and unusual... Even a piece

as small as this, Amy thought, you'd love to have it.

You'd love to take it out to look at it and hold it and

know that you owned it. You'd love to be able to call

it yours...

'You're thinking that it's beautiful, aren't you?'

said the Doctor. 'That it's the most gorgeous thing

you've ever seen. Rory doesn't match up. Amy

doesn't compare. You're wondering what it would

be like to have it, you're wondering how you

ever lived without it, and you can't understand

why anyone would say that it's dangerous. How

can anything so gorgeous be so dangerous? But it's

all these things - beautiful and necessary and

dangerous. The people who made it understood

how powerful it was. That's why they called it

Enamour. Because it bewitches people. It can turn

minds, sell merchandise, sway elections. And it

does its job far too well.' The Doctor closed his

hand.

Amy drew in a shivery breath. She glanced at

56

THE KING’S DRAGON

Rory. He looked shaken too. He reached over to

take her hand and she held his back, tight.

The Doctor threw the piece up into the air and

caught it; once again it shone in his palm. He closed

his hand once more - when he opened it, the tiny

powerful scrap had disappeared. 'Yes. So that's

Enamour,' he said. 'And the thing is, that it was all

right wanting it, and getting it, and even wanting

more of it - but it didn't stop there. Oh no. There

were other effects too, side effects, that nobody

predicted. You've felt it already, both of you,

haven't you - a necklace here, a spoon there—'

'Or a fork?' Amy suggested.

'Yes, what is it about forks? And the next thing

you know, you've gone and put it in your pocket.

But then you start thinking - well, is that what

people are doing to my stuff? Is that what they're

doing with my spoons?'

'Or forks,' Amy said, pointedly.

'Or, as you rightly say, forks. Do you have

designs on my forks?' He shot her a fierce look.

Amy almost took a step back but then he grinned at

her. 'So first you get protective, and then you get

suspicious, and the next thing you know you're

keeping secrets, and you're getting afraid, and

you're wondering if maybe those people you used to

call your neighbours aren't quite as friendly as

you thought they were. Because look at your

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DOCTOR WHO

amazing stuff! It's so beautiful and necessary - they

must want it as much as you do. They must have

their eye on it...' He looked around the chamber,

into the shadows. Again, Amy had that sense of

dread, that something was close, something was

watching...

'I think that's been happening here,' Rory said

slowly.

'Me too,' said the Doctor. His gaze came to rest on

Amy. She let go of Rory's hand and folded her arms.

There hadn't been anything. Just a trick of the light.

'I got talking to this old woman earlier,' Rory

said suddenly. 'Her name's Hilthe. She used to be

on their council here, or whatever it was called,

and then Beol rolled up with the Teller and the

dragon, and they challenged her in an election, and

she lost. It was nothing like the Teller's version of

events.' He took out the tile that Hilthe had given

him and handed it to the Doctor. His words came

more and more rapidly, as if now he'd started to

talk he wanted to get it all out. 'She gave me this - I

don't know what it is - said that if I wanted to come

and hear more about the good old days I should

come and visit her. I don't think this Enamour stuff

affects her, Doctor. She wasn't wearing any gold,

and she couldn't understand why everyone was

so... Well, enchanted by Beol.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Doctor examined the tile closely, studying

the marks engraved upon. He flipped it over to

look at the back and traced his fingertip along the

delicate filigree he found there. 'It's a map of part of the city. I think the black dot on it here is probably

your friend's house. This is her calling card.' He

threw it back over to Rory. 'Hilthe. She sounds like

somebody we should get to know better. Think you

could persuade her to come and talk to me?'

'I'll give it a go.' Rory turned to Amy.

'Coming?'

She shook her head. 'No, I'll stay here. I want to

find out more about this metal stuff. Where it came

from. How it got here. Why there's so much of it. I'll

see you in the rooms later.'

'Where it came from,' the Doctor repeated, as

Rory went on his way. 'How it got here. Why there's

so much of it. Anything else you'd like, while I'm at

it?'

'Cup of tea would be nice, thanks, but dragon

facts will do for now.'

'Right.' The Doctor flipped out the sonic

screwdriver again. 'Well, the reason there's so

much, is that working with the metal makes more of

it. The more you do to it, the more there is of it. Like instant coffee.'

I’d rather that cup of tea,' Amy said. 'But that's

why it oozes and wriggles and gets everywhere?'

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DOCTOR WHO

'That's why.'

'So how about where it came from and how it got

here?'

'Let's see what we can find out...' Sonic

screwdriver in hand, the Doctor wandered around

the dragon. It didn't move but, watching it lie

there, its eye half-open, Amy couldn't quite shake

the feeling that it was only biding its time, waiting to stir and rise up from the dais...

'It won't move, you know,' the Doctor said. He

was on the left side of the dragon, and was

apparently trying to prise it open. 'Not unless I tell

it to move.' He thought about what he had just said.

'Or the people who made it turn up again and tell

it to move.'

'Is that likely to happen?'

'I don't think so—'

'You don't think so?'

'That's the best I can manage until I find out

something about the provenance of this beastie...

Oh, here we are!'

He had managed to loosen a section of the

dragon; a piece of metal much larger than the

single scale he had detached before. This was the

size of a dinner plate, thinner and slightly curved.

The Doctor turned it over several times to study it

and then he handed it over to Amy. 'As I said. Not

likely to happen.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

When Amy examined it, she saw marks

engraved on it. Letters, presumably. 'Doctor, not all

of us are fluent in technobabble.'

'No? What do they teach you in those schools?' He

took the panel back. 'Manufacturer's details. Like a

hallmark. And what that tells me, Amy, is that our

big old friendly worm here was made a very long

time ago, by a civilisation that was out travelling

between the stars before life even put in an

appearance on this world.' He stared intently down

at the metal, as if he might somehow catch sight of

that distant, ancient species and learn something

about them. 'Think about it. This was an empty

world back then. No people. Leaving the dragon here

was like burying your treasure under a tree in the

corner of a quiet field. But that was aeons ago. I

doubt its owners will be back for it. In the

meantime, it's not doing anybody here any good. We

need to get rid of it.'

He put the panel back into place and used the

sonic screwdriver to reattach it. Amy walked slowly

round the dragon, admiring the curves of its

wings, the long sweep of its tail. Knowing that it

was so old, so alien, made it even more

fascinating. 'I wonder what made them leave it

here. Why would you do that? It's so...'

'Go on,' said the Doctor. 'It's so...?'

'So beautiful,' Amy said honestly. 'I think it's

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DOCTOR WHO

the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'

'It isn't, though. It's only making you think that it

is.' He pulled a face. 'Although, having seen

Leadworth, this could well be the most beautiful

thing you've ever seen. But mostly what you're

feeling is the effect of Enamour. When it wears off,

this will be—'

'A completely ordinary big gold dragon of

uncertain alien provenance.'

The Doctor grinned at her. 'Precisely that.'

'So why abandon it? If it's so special to them?

Why give it up?'

'Why does anyone bury their treasure? Perhaps

they were in trouble and they couldn't carry it

with them. Trying to escape trouble. Big universe,

plenty of trouble.'

'A war? An invasion?'

'That's the kind of thing. Or maybe they stole it

and hid it so that they weren't caught with it when

the bill turned up.'

Amy began to laugh. 'A heist gone wrong!'

'Maybe! Why not? Jewel theft, Amy,' he said

grandly, 'is a universal constant. But chances are

we'll never find out the full story.' He leaned his

elbow on the beast casually, almost too casually.

Amy gave him a questioning frown. He raised an

eyebrow and jerked his head slightly, gesturing

behind him. Someone there, Amy guessed,

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THE KING’S DRAGON

listening to them talk. How much had they heard?

'But there are a few things we could learn,' the

Doctor went on. 'Very easily.'

'Oh yes?' Amy kept her tone light.

'Yes.' He draped one arm proprietarily over the

dragon. 'Such as - where did Beol and the Teller

find the dragon? Who were they before they turned up

here in Geath? How did they find out how to make

it work for them? And are they anything more than

a couple of conmen?' Without turning his head, the

Doctor called back over his shoulder. 'So why don't

you stop lurking in the shadows like a bad stage

villain, come out here, and start telling the truth

rather than spinning a pack of lies?'

63

Chapter

4

'A chord,' Rory said with confidence, as he walked along the empty criss-cross streets of Geath, 'is the

line between two points on a curve.' Truly, as the

Doctor had promised, the universe was full of

marvels. Here, on an alien world in a strange city

under the spell of a mysterious substance not entirely

within his comprehension, Rory had finally found a

use for GCSE maths. Without it (and Hilthe's

map, to be fair) he would be literally walking round

in circles.

'You'll find a use for it one day, Williams,' Rory

muttered, in a passable imitation of Mr Swallow,

Head of Maths, which would have made Amy

laugh, if Amy hadn't been half a mile away and

65

DOCTOR WHO

behaving weirdly. More weirdly. Even more

weirdly than running away with a charismatically

chaotic time traveller the night before her wedding.

Their wedding. That was already weird enough

for Rory. And yet still he found himself picking

his way round said strange city in the middle of

the night in search of a little old lady. And why?

Because the Doctor had asked him to. Talk about

Enamour. 'So if I go up these steps... and along

this alley... then I should come out—'

Into another plaza, this one as deserted as the rest

of the city, the tinkling water in its fountain the only sound to be heard. The buildings glistered eerily

under the moon. 'Weird weird weird. It is all too weird. I don't like it.' Rory examined the tile that

Hilthe had given him and turned ninety degrees

anticlockwise. He headed down a broad avenue

lined with trees tottering under the weight of the

decorations loaded onto them.

Hilthe's house, when he found it, stood out a

mile — it was the only one not slathered in Enamour.

Rory ran up the steps and pulled on the bell. As he

waited, he studied the stained glass on the nearest

window. Even in the dim light, its vibrant colours

and intricate design gave a clue to how Geath must

have looked before the metal had oozed out of the

council chamber and coated everything, turning

the city uniform.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

A servant answered the door. Rory showed him the

tile and was led into a sitting room that was warm,

comfortable, and conspicuously gold-free. As he

waited, Rory looked at some of the pictures: paintings

and sketches of Geath throughout its long history.

On the shelves and in the cabinets were other

treasures: badges of office, old books and documents,

portraits of the long-dead great and good. So many

people, so many of the symbols and artefacts that must

have meant so much to them over the years. Hilthe, Rory

understood properly now, was an important part of that

history, and this room was a shrine to it. What had the

Doctor said? Twelve and a half thousand years.

What would it be like, to have that much weight of

the past behind you? How would it feel, knowing that

you had failed to persuade your fellow citizens that all those years of tradition were worth keeping? That the

long chain of history was ending with you?

Hilthe arrived, wearing a crimson quilted

dressing gown and showing no outward sign of

minding that she had been woken up in the middle of

the night by a near stranger. The famous Geathian

hospitality at last. She sat them down by the hearth,

and her servant poured glasses of a hot, sweet tea,

while Rory explained in the simplest terms possible

what it was that they had discovered so far.

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DOCTOR WHO

'The friend I'm travelling with, the Doctor — he's

taken a closer look at the metal that the dragon's

made from, and it's worried him.' He took a sip.

'Anyway, the Doctor thinks it might be having

some sort of effect on the people of the city.' He sipped again, marshalling his thoughts. 'And that

might be why the Teller and Beol have been able to

control them. The metal kind of makes people

believe what the Teller says.'

'A metal that can change minds?' Hilthe

frowned. 'That doesn't sound very likely.'

'I know it sounds... well, weird, but it's the truth.

I've seen it happen. We only arrived in the city this

evening, and Amy's already been affected.'

'Amy?'

'My other friend. My girlfriend. We heard noises in

the council complex and went to investigate. Awful

noises — screeching, shrieking. Amy ran off

ahead, but when we caught up with her, she hardly

seemed to know what we were talking about. I

think the metal — Enamour, it's called — makes

people forget things, or suppress them, or keep them

secret.'

Hilthe sat back in her chair. She studied Rory

carefully. 'Strange metals, strange noises — all told,

this is a very strange tale.'

'But true. Honestly. If you come and meet the

Doctor, he'll explain, better than I can. He's good

68

THE KING’S DRAGON

at making the outright bizarre sound completely

reasonable.'

'Not necessarily a quality. But can he help? Can

he help Geath?'

'Help is what the Doctor does. Help is what the

Doctor is.'

Hilthe sat in silent contemplation for a while,

studying the different treasures that lined the

walls of her home. Then, apropos of nothing, she

said, 'When do you and Amy marry?'

'In the morning... How did you know we were

getting married?'

Hilthe nodded at his hands. 'When you started

talking about her, you began playing with that

wedding band.'

'What?' Rory looked down. Sure enough, he

was fiddling with a gold ring. Where had that come

from? He didn't remember picking it up. It sat in

the centre of his palm. 'Hilthe, this isn't mine.' As he spoke, the ring suddenly twisted round of its own

accord. He tried to drop it, but it seemed to him

that it writhed in his hand, refusing to be let go. 'I

can't stop it!'

Hilthe got out of her seat and leaned over to

still his hands. Gently but firmly, she took the ring

from him. She held it up in front of her to examine it

more closely, and Rory caught a glimpse of her

sharp, clever eye through it. Then Hilthe blinked.

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DOCTOR WHO

She shuddered and doubled over, giving a small

cry of pain.

Rory jumped out of his seat and ran to help her

but, before he could get close enough, he bounced

back. He stretched out his hands. They came up

against something solid. Rory pushed hard against it,

desperate to get to the old woman, who was now

shaking violently.

'Hilthe!' he cried, thumping against the barrier

between them.

But there was no way through, no matter how

hard he hit or pushed. Rory pressed his hands

against the invisible barrier and watched helplessly

as pulsing golden light began to emanate from

the ring. Small circles at first, expanding rapidly

until Hilthe was entirely enveloped by the light.

Her skin became translucent, as if she was made of

clear crystal that was lit from within. The ring,

cupped in her hands, began to glow. Her head was

bowed and Rory could not see her face.

'Hilthe,' Rory whispered in awe. 'Are you still in

there? Can you speak to me?'

Hilthe raised her head and opened her eyes.

White fire. She looked like an angel... Rory

dismissed the idea at once as ridiculous. No such

thing. Aliens, however...

'Who are you? What do you want?'

The voice that answered was like Hilthe's, but

70

THE KING’S DRAGON

richer and sweetened with a hundred thousand

harmonies. Rory was reminded of the Teller

earlier — but his voice sounded shrill and harsh in

comparison.

'I am the Herald. I speak for my masters, the

Bright Nobles of the Feond. I have come to claim

what is rightfully theirs.' Her glance darted to

and fro, searching, or hunting. She repeated her

greeting. 'I am the Herald. I speak for my masters,

the Bright Nobles of the Feond. I have come to

claim what is rightfully theirs.' Her eyes caught

him. 'We can reward you well.'

It wasn't exactly hard to guess what she was

talking about. Rory knew that the Doctor thought

Geath should be rid of it, that Hilthe wanted Geath to

be rid of it... and yet, and yet the city was so

beautiful now... Without the gold, it would look so

bare, so dull, hardly anything at all...

'There's nothing here,' Rory said. 'Look around

you. Sorry. Try the next planet along.'

The Herald took in her surroundings — and

saw only Hilthe's ungilded sitting room. Then she

sighed, a full chord that resonated with grief and

loss. A wave of guilt washed over Rory, but the

truth stuck to his tongue. The light went out. Hilthe

staggered backwards. Rory grabbed her arm to

stop her falling and guided her back to her chair.

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DOCTOR WHO

She sat for a few moments with her head bowed.

'How strange. How strange.' Then she sat up, as if

she had come to a decision. 'I want to meet your

Doctor friend.' She paused. 'I'm not sure why you

just lied. No, don't deny it. But he will certainly

need to know what you've seen in my house. My

view of it was... difficult to describe, so you're

going to have to tell the Doctor everything. If he's

going to help me.' She gave Rory a very sharp look.

'And I mean everything.'

The Teller emerged from the shadow of the arcade.

Two knights followed close behind him, their

hands resting lightly on the hilts of their sheathed

short swords. 'Well,' said the Teller affably, 'here is a curious thing. The last I saw of our guests from Dant,

they were being shown to their very fine quarters.

And yet barely a bell has rung and here they are in

the council chamber. Whatever could have brought

them here?'

'We're not from Dant,' the Doctor said. 'But you

know that already.'

The Teller walked over to the dragon, placing

one hand upon its head and the other upon the

highest point of one folded wing. It was about as

deliberate a display of possession as it was possible

to make.

The Doctor ran one finger along the dragon's

72

THE KING’S DRAGON

tail. `Go on,' he said. 'Tell me where you found it. I

bet it makes a brilliant story.'

The Teller lifted a hand - one only. 'But my

friend! You have already heard a great story this

evening!'

'Not a true one, though.'

'Does a story have to be true to be great?' 'It

helps.'

'But what more does my tale require?' The Teller

stroked the dragon's head. Beneath his touch, the

metal began to glisten.

And then, Amy would swear, it began to sing. A

low sweet sound just on the edge of her hearing that

picked up and harmonised with the Teller's voice.

She shivered. Where had she heard that before?

The Teller talked on. 'My tale has excitement

and adventure and - most of all - it has an enemy.

That was what the people of Geath wanted to

hear. This city!' He sneered. 'Year upon year of

comfortable talk, always the same, always too safe -

in their hearts they longed for something new.

Something dangerous. So that is what I give them.

And when they become too afraid, I can remind

them that even if there are powers in this world

that threaten them, Beol is here. Beol will protect

them.' He gave a crooked smile. 'And that is no

more than the truth. Beol is a good king.'

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DOCTOR WHO

'There shouldn't be a king. Not here.'

The Teller's smile turned radiant. 'But now

there is. And how they love him!'

'Were you a storyteller before?' The Doctor's

voice, which until now had sounded faint in

comparison, became steadily more authoritative,

more natural - more real. 'Were they good stories?'

He walked slowly around the dragon. The Teller

didn't budge an inch, but monitored his adversary's

progress closely. 'Did they tell people how to live

their lives just that bit better? Did they inspire

them? Inform them? Entertain them? Or were they

rubbish? Were they hack work? Was there always a

good guy and a bad guy and a tidy resolution at the

end? Have you simply found a way to amplify your

voice so that people can't help listening?'

The Teller's hitherto genial air was gone. He

gripped the dragon's head. Beneath his hands, the

golden hide began to ripple.

'Doctor,' Amy murmured. 'I think you're

making him angry.' She glanced uneasily at the

shifting metal. 'I think you're making it angry'

'You have no right to be here,' the Teller said

harshly. 'I should have you put in the stocks.

You're a fool!'

'And you're a liar. Can't bear to hear the truth?

Can't bear to hear it said?' Subtly, the Doctor's

voice began to change again. Now it was in tune

74

THE KING’S DRAGON

with the dragon.

The hum was louder than ever before. Amy

pressed her fingers against her ears. The dragon-

song was swelling. 'Doctor, I don't think this is a

good idea—'

'But you know it in your heart, don't you?' the

Doctor said, ignoring her. 'It's the dragon that

makes them listen. It's Beol that they love.'

'Stop this! Stop this at once!'

Amy looked across the hall. An old woman was

striding towards them, her eyes flashing in anger.

Rory came hurrying behind her. This must be his

friend Hilthe.

'This is the council chamber of Geath, the

Heart of the City!' Hilthe said. 'Generation after

generation of our people have gathered here in

comradeship and concord. Show some respect to

their efforts, to their memory!' She turned to Rory.

'Is this your friend?'

Rory nodded. 'This is the Doctor.'

The Doctor stepped back from the dragon. He

bowed his head. 'Forgive me, Mother, I meant no

disrespect.'

She gave him an unfavourable look and turned to

address the Teller. 'I know you hold this city in

contempt—'

'Not true, Mother!' the Teller said quickly; too

quickly, Amy thought.

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DOCTOR WHO

The Doctor murmured, 'The Teller doth

protest too much... Now why would that be, I

wonder...?'

Hilthe held up her hand to stop the Teller

speaking further. 'But you might at least make a

show of respect. Given that making a show is all

you're good for. Now,' she turned back to address

the Doctor. 'Your friend has come to me with a

most remarkable tale, one which any sensible

person would hardly find credible. What truth is

there in it? What does it mean for my city and its

people?'

The Doctor held up his hands. 'I'd like to tell

you, Mother, but you arrived just as our friend

here was having me thrown into the stocks.' He

gave the Teller his madman's grin. 'Which is it to

be? Throw me out or hear me out? Because I can

tell you a story that will turn your world upside

down. You know I can. And this story will be

wonderful and terrible and brilliant - and it won't

need a villain.'

Amy could see that the Teller was torn between his

need to rid himself of the Doctor and his desire to

find out more from him. He vacillated for a

moment or two, and then turned to the two guards

and dismissed them. 'Go on,' he said to the Doctor.

'Impress me.'

'Good man! Good choice!'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

Rory came to stand next to Amy. 'Did we nearly

find ourselves in the stocks?'

'Nearly. But not actually. And, you know, in

a case like that it really isn't the thought that

counts.'

'Hm.' Rory was not mollified.

The Doctor rubbed his hands together, cracked

some knuckles, and then turned the sonic

screwdriver onto the dragon.

The Teller made an anxious movement towards

him. 'Don't damage it!'

'I won't damage it! Well, not so as you'd notice...

Ah, here we go! Come and take a look at this, both of

you.'

It was another dragon-scale. Hilthe raised her

eyebrows at Rory, who nodded encouragingly,

and she stepped towards the Doctor. The Teller

came to look, too, and, as he stared down at the

scrap of Enamour lying in the Doctor's palm, his

face changed. Everything distinctive about him -

his wit, his intelligence - leached away. He became

absent. Amy shivered. Was that how she and Rory

had looked? From the moment she had picked up

the dragon-hammer on the gate and resented the

Doctor touching it, the metal had been working on

them.

The Doctor, watching the Teller, nodded. 'I

thought that you hadn't been on the receiving end

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DOCTOR WHO

before. Feels different, this way round, doesn't it?' 'I feel nothing,' Hilthe said. 'What is this? Some kind

of conjuring trick?'

The Doctor closed his hand.

The Teller shuddered and pulled back. 'No,

something definitely happened then.' He looked at

the Doctor with new respect — and then at the

dragon, with new apprehension.

'I don't know where you found it,' the Doctor

said. 'I wonder if you could tell me even if you

wanted to. Enamour — that's its name — it makes

people possessive, jealous. Makes them keep

secrets.' He glanced at Amy and gave her a rueful

look. 'Even from people they can trust. Right,

Amy?'

'Oh,' Amy said. 'I know. I guess there was...

something... sort of. Maybe.' She tried to speak,

but the words wouldn't form. 'Why can't I say

what it was?'

'Amy...' The Doctor pressed two long fingers

gently against her cheek. 'It's not your fault — it's

what Enamour does. There's no harm done. But try to

concentrate now. Try to tell me what it was you saw

in the dark. Was it big? Was it scary? Animal?

Vegetable? Mineral? Accidental?'

Amy struggled to get past the mist descending

around her and to ignore the gentle lulling hum

rising steadily inside her head. 'It was big... No,

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THE KING’S DRAGON

not at first. It grew. It got bigger and bigger. All the lamps went out - it made them go out. There was a

howling sound. Well, you heard that. It sort of came

towards me. I thought it was going to attack me!'

Rory took hold of her hand. 'Then it stopped. It

loomed for a while. It made me feel afraid, and

alone. Then it went away. I put my hand through it,

and it just went away. Like it wasn't really there.'

Through the haze, the Doctor was smiling at her;

approvingly, encouragingly. Another memory

came back, in a flash. 'Doctor, I think people

were whispering about it earlier, in the chamber.

They've seen it here before!' It was, as Rory was no

doubt thinking, weird. As if, knowing that it was

real for others, she was suddenly able to admit its

existence to herself. The humming was quieter,

and the Doctor was frowning, thoughtfully. 'Go on,

tell us,' Amy said. 'What is it?'

'A scout, probably. Trying to find the metal.

Question now - is it an automatic manifestation, or

is there someone behind it? Has somebody sent it?

Because if they have, our sleeping dragon over there

might not be quite as quiescent as we'd like.'

The Teller looked anxiously at the dragon. 'Is it

dangerous?'

'Dangerous?' Hilthe turned to the Doctor. 'Is it?

What does this mean for the city?'

'The dragon alone is danger enough,' the Doctor

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DOCTOR WHO

said, looking pointedly at the Teller, who looked

away guiltily. 'But... if it's automatic, no. And if

there's someone behind it...' The Doctor thought

for a moment. 'They'll follow the old protocols.

They'll send a Herald to ask for the return of the

metal before they try to take it by force.'

'Ah,' said Rory, quietly. 'I think we may already

have seen that.'

The Doctor gave him a 'you-took-your-time'

look. 'Did it ask for its Enamour back?'

'Yes, but – Doctor, I said there wasn't any here! I

couldn't stop myself!'

'Oh dear.'

'I couldn't!'

Hilthe interrupted. 'It's all right, Rory.' She

looked at the Doctor. 'I should imagine the Doctor

will tell us that it is the work of this metal again.'

'But... if they take it by force—'

Hilthe laid her hand upon Rory's shoulder. 'I'm

sure that we will be given another chance before

any assault is made upon us.' She reached into

her pocket and held out the ring for the Doctor to

see. 'This is the means by which their messenger

spoke to me, Doctor. Do not ask me how. I believe,

however, that I could understand a little of her

mind.'

The Doctor peered at the ring. 'May I?'

'Of course.'

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The Doctor picked up the ring. He held it up to the

light - his eye, dark and intelligent, was briefly visible through it - and then he tested it with the sonic

screwdriver. 'Definitely the same material. You say

it spoke to you?'

'Through me would be nearer the mark.' 'So

it could still be an automatic system...'

'Automatic,' the Teller said. 'You keep saying

that. But what does it mean?'

'Ooh, good one. Not easy to explain. Let's see

what you make of this. Imagine, if you can,

machines that don't need people to operate them.

Machines that can be told in advance what to do,

and then left to get on with it.' He grinned at the

Teller, whose eyes widened as the idea sank in.

'You are imagining it, aren't you? Good for you!'

'Doctor,' Hilthe said, 'I have a question. Why

does this material... What did you call it?'

'Enamour.'

'Enamour.' She experimented with the word.

'Why does it not affect me, when the rest of the

city is enthralled?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Wisdom? You've seen it all

before?'

Hilthe laughed. 'You mean I'm old!'

'Why are you not affected?' the Teller asked the Doctor.

The Doctor winked at him. 'Same reason.'

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The Teller stared at him, fascinated and

bewildered, like he was watching a magician

whose tricks he could not understand.

'Now,' said Hilthe briskly, returning to the

business at hand, 'tell me if I have misunderstood,

but as I see it, what we ought to do now is

determine whether the makers of this dragon are

indeed trying to speak to us, or whether an echo of

their voice has in some way travelled down the long

years to us.'

'I'm impressed!' said the Doctor. 'You're

impressive!'

'Thank you, Doctor, I know that already. Now,

given that I am in some way impervious to this

metal's deleterious effects, surely what I ought to

do next is try this ring once again in order to

summon its makers?'

'Too dangerous, Doctor,' Rory said, quickly.

'Anything might happen.'

The Doctor frowned. 'He's right, Mother—'

'Nevertheless, the decision is mine and mine

alone,' Hilthe took the ring back from him. 'Besides,

for the city of Geath, I would do anything.'

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Chapter

5

Hilthe cupped the ring in her hands and was bathed once again in the rings of golden light. Amy was

amazed. 'It's beautiful! Is that what happened

before?'

'Just wait till she starts speaking.' Rory felt his

stomach knotting with anticipation. Somehow, the

fear he had felt for Hilthe dissipated, and he was

eager for Amy to see what he had seen, and anxious

to see it again himself.

When the Herald returned, the show was even

more impressive than he remembered. The light

was more intense, the experience more involving,

more complete. The Herald's voice rang around the

high chamber like a peal of bells. 'I am the Herald. I

speak for my masters, the Bright Nobles of the

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Feond. I have come to claim what is rightfully

theirs.'

The Doctor walked slowly all the way round the

apparition, fascinated, his head tilted to one side as

he studied her. 'You're amazing. And you're here,

aren't you? Well, not here here, because this is a transmission. But it isn't a recording. You're not a

voice from the past. You're speaking to us now,

aren't you?'

The Herald turned her head to follow the

Doctor as he moved, watching him with her fire-lit

eyes. 'I am speaking to you now,' she confirmed. 'I

am speaking to you for my masters, the Bright

Nobles of the Feond. I have come to claim what is

rightfully theirs. Who is the Noble here? Who has

authority to speak?'

The Teller took a step forwards, but the Doctor

got in first. 'You can speak to me. Where have you

come from?'

'I am the Herald. I speak for my masters, the

Bright Nobles of the Feond. I have come to claim

what is rightfully theirs.'

'Yes, I've got that already. You want your

treasure and I have to say I'll be glad to see the

back of it. So will the people of Geath. Not at first,

probably.' The Doctor glanced quickly at the Teller.

'When I say "probably", I mean "definitely". Let's not worry about that right now. Why should I

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hand it over?'

'It belongs to my masters, the Bright Nobles of

the Feond. It is rightfully theirs.'

'Yes, yes, so you say. But my problem with that is

anyone can turn up and claim that old Smaug over

there belongs to them.' The Doctor looked at the

Teller again, pointedly this time. 'I'll admit that the

light show is impressive — very whizz bang — but

it's not proof of purchase, is it? So why should I

hand it over to you?'

The Herald closed her eyes briefly, as if

calculating, or perhaps receiving instructions. 'We

can reward you well.'

'Oops,' said Amy. 'Bad move.'

The Doctor bared his teeth in a mirthless smile.

He strolled around the Herald one more time,

coming to a halt slightly behind her left side. He

put his hand flat against the sphere of light. It

rippled almost imperceptibly but otherwise did

not change. 'Problem is,' he said, drawing back

his hand and examining his palm, 'Enamour is a

banned substance. Banned by everyone. You name

them, they've banned it. Outlawed within the

Ancient Bounds of the League of Perpetual Accord.

Forbidden on every count across the Uncounted

Constellations. The Hieromonks of the Hexagon

preach against it from every pulpit in the Church of

All the Levels, and the Bloodied Mercenaries of

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Metis IV ("may-their-name-be-accursed-throughthe-

universe") wouldn't touch it, even if you paid them.

Which you have to. So why should you get it?'

'It belongs to my masters. When it is restored to

them, they will treat it with care. They treat all that

they own with care.'

'Oh, yes, you say that now! But dumping it here

on Geath was hardly careful, was it? Talk about

toxic waste! It's been making a right old mess of

things around here! Fine republican tradition,

twelve thousand years plus or minus, throw some

Enamour at them and the next thing you know

they're going all moon-faced over a king. A king of all things! And, to be fair, he's a nice chap, good

shoulders, I'm sure he makes a very good king —

but,' the Doctor paused for breath and raised a reproving finger, 'where would we be without

tradition?'

The light around the Herald began to grow in

intensity. Urgently, she said, 'It belongs to my

masters—'

'You do go on about your masters, did you

know that? Anyone might suspect them of using a

mind-controlling metal to make you go all wobbly.

Anyway, they're not my masters. I can take care of

the stuff. I shall take care of the stuff. Won't hand it over. Shan't.'

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'They are coming!' cried the Herald.

The light was now dazzling. Amy had to shield

her eyes. Rory and the Teller did the same. Amy

heard the Teller whispering to himself, 'What is

this? What is this?' She put her hand on his

shoulder. 'Don't worry. The Doctor will sort it all

out. Definitely. Probably.'

'Our enemies are close!' cried the Herald. 'They

must not take it!'

'Enemies?' The Doctor came round to face her.

'Oh, now we're onto something. What enemies?'

'There was a war,' said the Herald.

'Oh, there usually is.'

'We lost. We lost our beloved worlds! A

hundred thousand worlds, lost to us! We hid all

that we could rather than let it fall into the hands of

the enemies. They would not use it for peace; for

beauty.'

'Said it was a war,' said Amy.

'I said it was a war,' replied the Doctor. 'You said it was a heist.'

'We became exiles.' The Herald's beautiful voice

had turned piteous.

'I said it might be a heist,' Amy muttered.

'Nothing wrong with a spot of exile,' the Doctor

said to the Herald. 'Not a bad way of life. See the

sights, move on, see a few more sights—'

'Save the odd Star Whale,' said Amy.

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'Fight the odd vampire,' said Rory.

The Doctor turned on them. 'Technically

speaking, they weren't vampires... Do I look like

Buffy?' He nodded towards the Herald. 'Can I get on

with talking to the bright shiny potential alien

menace, please? Herald, what happened?'

'Our home was lost to us. We wandered for so

long that we could barely remember what we had

once owned. We wandered through the dark and

the cold. We could barely remember our worlds,

our homes. We began to forget the light and the

music and the bliss.'

Amy bit her lip and looked at the Doctor. No

more banter from him, no more questions. He

looked old, very old, unspeakably sad, and alone.

What was it the Teller had said earlier? That he

only told the people of Geath what they wanted to

hear... 'Doctor,' she said, 'you reckoned that the

dragon must have been here for millennia. So why

now? What's brought them here now?'

'We heard an echo from the past,' the Herald

said. 'It called to us. We came.'

The Doctor brought himself back to the present. 'It

was probably when the Geathians started

working the metal.' His voice was more subdued

than before. 'That must have triggered something - a

beacon, perhaps. Enough for the Herald's people to

work out where the dragon was - and for their

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enemies to work it out, too. Whoever they are.'

The Herald quivered at the mention of them.

'They are very close! They are coming! Do not let

them take it from us!'

'Doctor,' Rory said. 'Wouldn't it be best just to

let them take it? Away from here. Before those things

Amy saw come for us.'

'No!' Amy said quickly. 'How do we know that

they're telling us the truth? They could be spinning

us a story.' She glanced at the Teller. 'Like everyone

else round here.'

'We have to get rid of the stuff somehow,' Rory

said. 'It can't stay here in Geath. So why not save

ourselves a job and send it back where it came

from?'

'Rory, you never listen!'

'Me never listen? That's rich coming from you,

Amy Pond!'

'Oh, now we're getting to the truth of things!'

'Amy, this isn't actually about you. Don't you get

it? Look at Hilthe. I'm worried about her! How long

are we going to leave her like this? She's an old

woman—'

The Doctor spoke over them, addressing the

Herald in a gentler voice. 'Tell me about your

enemies.'

The light around the Herald dimmed, as if it

was being pulled away from her. 'They brought

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chaos. They brought ruin. My masters were artists

and poets and philosophers. Our cities shone like

beacons. Our worlds were paradises. But they

were destroyed.'

'Why?' pressed the Doctor. 'Why you? Why

would anyone do that to you?'

'Envy.' Her voice hit a low note that tolled

around the hall. 'Jealousy. What other force could

tear down towers, shred the learning of ages,

consign the Bright Nobles to darkness?' She held

her hand out to him, like a beggar pleading for aid.

'We have so little left! Do not let them take it!' The

light within her dimmed perilously low. 'They are

coming! They have found us! They are here!'

Amy heard once again the low wail that she

had chased through the complex earlier. As the

sound grew louder, her sense of dread got steadily

worse, until she felt sick. What was doing this,

Amy thought desperately, as she shoved her

fingers into her ears. Travelling with the Doctor,

she was often scared, but something about this

noise got inside her and made her want to curl up

and disappear, like the lamp she had been carrying

earlier. 'Doctor!' she yelled. 'Bad guy! Incoming!'

At the far end of the chamber, behind the throne,

darkness began to take shape and form, coalescing

into a figure. The light around the Herald flickered

madly and her body went into spasm.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

'Hilthe!' Rory shouted. He tried to reach the old

woman, but could not get close. When Amy went to

pull him back he shook her off.

The Teller stood with his mouth hanging open,

his expression partly of terror, partly of wonder.

'Get back!' Amy yelled at him. 'Let the Doctor

handle it!'

Coming to his senses, the Teller rushed to take

cover behind one of the columns of the arcade.

Amy and Rory joined him. The Doctor remained by

the Herald. He stood staring in delight at the figure

emerging at the far side of the hall.

It was growing rapidly in size. Now it was

Amy's height, now taller, now more than twice the

size of an average human, its limbs lengthening,

unfurling like wings. Soon it was almost touching

the dome of the council chamber and it didn't

stop growing. No longer able to fit, it stooped

forwards, a huge shadow looming over them all.

The noise it was making, amplified by the dome of

the chamber, was almost unbearable. And then,

through the din, Amy heard a steady hum, very

low at first, but getting louder. Harmonies were

added to it until it was as if a thousand voices, in

perfect unison, were countering the cry of the dark

figure across the chamber. Then the Herald, too,

began to grow.

Rory grabbed Amy's arm. 'She's fighting back!

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Hilthe's fighting back!'

'It's not Hilthe!' Amy shouted, but either he

hadn't heard or else it made no difference. Rory

whooped and cheered her on.

The Herald seemed to gain strength and stature

from his support. Her rate of growth sped up,

and soon her bright figure filled her half of the

hall. The two unearthly presences hovered for a

moment - facing off, considering the nature of the

opposition, gearing up to do battle - and then the

Herald attacked. Waves of golden light emanated

from her in the direction of her enemy. When they

hit, the huge dark figure recoiled, and gave a great

howl, like a hundred cats screeching in pain and

hatred.

'Got it!' yelled Rory. 'Go Hilthe!'

But Amy gasped in dismay - and then puzzled

over her reaction. The creature frightened her and

its coming and its presence filled her with terror.

So why did she not want it hurt? Was it because it

hadn't touched her? All it had done so far was look

big and loom and wail - but there wasn't a law

against that.

The Herald tried to capitalise on her advantage.

She raised one light-filled hand and sent more

shock waves out towards her enemy. It buckled

under the force of the blow, like a tree blasted by a

storm, and shrank somewhat in size. But then it

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started to gather its resources for a counter-attack.

The wailing, which had faltered under the Herald's

assault, rose up again with renewed vigour and

purpose. It stretched out its vast hands, so that the

whole council chamber seemed to lie within its

grasp. The two lamps behind the throne went out.

The only light now came from the Herald, and its

pale reflection in the dragon. Amy saw the Doctor

taking cover behind it.

'Amy! Rory! Are you all right?' he yelled.

'Fine!' she shouted back. She glanced at the

man next to her who was wide-eyed and clutching at

the column as if it was the only solid thing in a world

turned to chaos. 'Though I think the Teller might

need therapy!'

'What about Hilthe?' Rory shouted. 'Doctor, is

this hurting her?'

The Doctor didn't get a chance to answer. The

Herald's enemy made a grab for her. It was as if it

was trying to extinguish her, to snuff her out like

she was a candle. The Herald's light diminished

again. She gave an agonised shriek — and then her

light dissipated entirely. The whole apparition

withered, shrank, and then was gone. Only Hilthe

remained — a tiny, silver-haired old woman,

clutching an innocuous-looking gold ring. She

stood still and erect for a moment, as if the shock

was enough to keep her upright, and then she

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slumped to the ground. The ring fell out of her

hands. It clattered coldly against the tiled floor,

then rolled across the chamber and came to a halt in

front of the dragon. The Doctor picked it up and put

it in his pocket.

'Hilthe!' Rory cried in dismay. He ran out from

the cover of the arcade and helped the Doctor

carry her back to one of the seats there. She sat

with her head down. Rory put his arm around her.

'Hilthe,' he said gently. 'Can you hear me? Are you all

right?'

The Teller, creeping across to stand beside the

Doctor, stared in horror at the monster hovering at

the far side of the chamber. The noise had lessened

considerably and was now nothing more than a

background growl, but the figure was still huge.

'What is that thing?'

'Like I said before, it's a scout,' the Doctor said.

'It's been sent to track down the Enamour. Bet

you're sorry you found that dragon now.'

The Teller was aghast. 'Sent by whom?'

'Good question. Don't know. Yet.'

Hilthe, leaning back in the circle of Rory's arms,

opened her eyes. 'Ah!' she cried softly.

The Doctor knelt down beside her and took her

hand. 'I'm sorry I let you speak for us, Mother.'

She extricated her hand from his. 'You didn't

let me. I insisted.' She shivered. 'I saw many

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wonderful things through its eyes. Many marvels.

Such beautiful cities! Such grandeur!' She shook

her head, as if to clear it of whatever strange visions

the Herald had placed there. 'However, I see that its

enemy is still amongst us. We must determine

whether it means my city any harm.'

'So we should.' The Doctor looked back over his

shoulder. 'It doesn't seem in a hurry to finish us

off, does it? I wonder what it has to say for itself.'

Leaving Hilthe in Rory's expert and devoted care, he

jumped to his feet and ran out from the cover of the

arcade. The alien towered over him. 'Hello!' he said.

'Nice to meet you! Now, call me a romantic if you

like — and I am awful y romantic about meeting new life forms, brings a lump to the throat — but I don't

think you're going to hurt us, are you? Not

immediately, anyway. Am I right?' As he was

speaking, the alien twisted round slowly, and bent

forwards to examine the Doctor. Its jaw hinged open,

offering a glimpse down a cavernous mouth. 'Or am I

wrong?' Now standing nose-to-snout with it, the

Doctor gave a little wave. 'Hello again!'

The creature spoke, its voice low and monotone. 'I

represent the Regulatory Board. Under Clause 9.4b

(subsection 12.2) of the Regulation of Psycho-

Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26), all parties

here assembled must hand over any substances

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covered by said Act within ten standard time

units.'

'That was a mouthful. Can you do it again?' It

did.

'So you can. Good for you! Not easy learning

lines like that. If you ever decide to get out of the

regulatory business, I suggest you think about the

stage. So you want the stuff, too.' The Doctor rocked

back and forth on his heels. 'Enamour, Enamour,

they all want Enamour... So what's your claim? Who's

your boss? Not these Bright Nobles, I bet.'

It growled at that name. 'My authority comes

from the Reconstruction Oversight Committee—'

'The what?' The Doctor clutched his head in

pain. 'That's a rubbish name! Who sold you that one? You should get your money back... Did

nobody talk to you about brand management? And as

for "standard time units"...' He groaned. 'That's rubbish too! What were you thinking? You know, if you're serious about reconstructing whatever it is

you're busy reconstructing, you should probably get

rid of that committee.'

With a sudden quick movement, the Doctor

stuck his arm right through the Regulator. It all but

disappeared. 'Huh,' he said, half to the Regulator,

half to himself. 'Definitely a projection. Doesn't

stop you being alarming. The trick with the lights

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THE KING’S DRAGON

is a good one, too, I'll give you that. And somehow

you're stimulating fear and apprehension... Don't

know how you're doing it - not yet, will eventually

- but put it all together and it's an effective bad-

guy routine, isn't it? Said you should think about

the stage.' He pulled back his hand, and the

Regulator coalesced back into its whole shape.

Ooh. That's interesting. I stick my hand through you

and you still don't make a move towards me. Ten

standard time units. And then what? What do you do

then?'

'Under powers granted to the Regulatory Board by

the Regulation of Psycho-Manipulatory Metals Act

(30673.26), reasonable force can be used to secure

all substances covered by said Act.'

'Reasonable force?' The Doctor frowned. 'I don't

like the sound of that. Reasonable force is never

actually reasonable, is it?'

The Regulator twitched the many fingers of one

hand. The lamps behind the throne burst back into

flame. Then it pointed up towards the dome. All

of them gathered there - the Doctor, Amy, Rory,

Hilthe, the Teller - looked up.

'Save us!' the Teller whispered, when he saw

what was passing overhead.

Beyond the golden dome of the chamber,

silhouetted like a shadow play, two gigantic

shapes were moving slowly across the sky above

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Geath. Both were winged and had a long thin tail

that stretched out behind each of them. Amy even

thought she could see a puff of smoke. 'Oh, you're

kidding me,' she said. 'They can't possibly be...'

'But look at them!' said Rory. 'They totally are!

They're —'

'Don't say it, Rory Williams!'

' — dragons! Dragons, Amy! Instant awesome!'

'How can this be happening?' gasped the Teller. He

clutched desperately at Amy's arm.

She nearly felt sorry for him. 'It'll all work out

fine,' she said comfortingly. 'Just keep your hands off

the glittery stuff in future, OK? Doesn't do anyone

any good. Doctor, tell me they're not really dragons.'

'Tell me they are,' begged Rory.

'Sorry to disappoint you, Rory,' the Doctor said.

'But of course they're not dragons.' He put a finger to

his lips, signalling to everyone to be quiet. 'Listen.

What can you hear?'

Amy had to strain to pick out what he meant,

because the city was already awakening to this

new threat. There were shouts from outside and

then a gong sounded repeatedly. But behind it all,

distantly but distinctly, Amy heard not the flap of

wings, but a low constant and entirely mechanical

thrum... 'Engines,' she said to the Doctor. 'I can hear engines. They're spaceships, aren't they?'

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'Spot on,' he replied. He looked grim. 'And from the

sound of those particular engines, they're not just

spaceships—'

Hilthe rose from her seat. 'Doctor, I demand to

know the meaning of all this!'

' — they're gunships.'

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Chapter

6

The Doctor turned on the Regulator in cold rage. It looked back at him impassively. 'This is a pre-industrial world inhabited by a people known

throughout the universe for their pacifism,' the Doctor spat, 'and you've sent gunships to deal with

them! Is that what you call reasonable force?'

With a cry, the Teller turned and ran back into

the cover of the dark arcade. The Doctor nodded to

Amy to go after him. 'Over to you, Pond.'

Amy saluted him. 'On the case, Doc.'

'Find out what's happening outside,' the Doctor

instructed her. 'Keep close to our friend the spin-

doctor. He'll be looking for Beol. I want to know

what they say to each other. I want to know who

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they are and where they found this dragon. And I

want you never to call me "Doc" again.'

Amy saluted once more and went in pursuit of

the Teller. She almost caught up with him as he

hurried through the council complex, half-

running, half-stumbling as he tried to get outside as

quickly as possible. She had to hold back, using the

curves of the corridors to conceal her from his sight.

Eventually he led her to a pair of big wooden

doors which he threw open, and tumbled out into

the big plaza in which the council building stood.

Amy went as far as the doorway and hung back in

the shadows. She watched as the Teller looked

upwards. His hand covered his mouth. The sky

was growing steadily brighter.

The plaza was filled with people. Amy slipped

through the door and made her way through the

crowd, trying to keep close to the Teller while using

the others to shield her from his view. It helped

that he wasn't looking round. Nobody was looking

round. Everyone was looking up. Someone cried

out, and the cry was picked up, soon everyone was

shouting: What is it? Who are they? What does this

mean?

High in the night sky above Geath were two

spaceships. Golden spaceships, each winged and

with a long tail, made from a metal that looked

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THE KING’S DRAGON

both supple and resilient. They were the image of

the dragon that lay slumbering back in the hall.

They passed overhead with a scream of engines

that sent many people in the plaza diving to the

ground.

Amy looked at the faces around her, ordinary

men and women, but with absolutely no frame of

reference for what they were seeing now. What

must this all look like to them? The sound of the

engines grew fainter as the ships headed downriver,

but the danger had not passed. They must have

turned, because the noise grew steadily louder again.

While the people gathered here might not entirely

understand what they were seeing, they knew

enough to be able to tell that the enemy had not left

them. They shouted as they struggled with each other

to get to the alcoves, the cellars, the places of shelter.

'What are they? Where have they come from?'

'It's Dant! Who else can it be? The beast in the hall

— these creatures look just like it! They've come to

claim it back! They're going to kill us!' That, and the

steady approach of the dragon-ships, sent the crowd

into panic.

'Be quiet!' shouted the Teller. 'Calm down!' His

voice rang out above the noise. He could still speak

with authority and persuasiveness. People stopped

panicking to listen to him. He pointed upwards.

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'Dant? How can it be Dant? How could the people of

Dant possibly have anything like that?'

'Who is it, then? We took the dragon from them! It

has to be them! Who else would do this?'

The Teller opened his mouth to reply. 'Now, this

should be worth hearing,' Amy muttered. But

whatever he was about to say was sucked up in

the scream of the engines. The dragon-ships were

now directly overhead. Then they opened fire.

In the council chamber, the Regulator had turned

the concave space of the dome into a huge screen,

onto which it was projecting images of the events

happening outside. The Doctor, Rory and Hilthe

watched in horror as the two dragon-ships made

their first pass over Geath.

'Doctor,' Hilthe said, 'what are these creatures?'

She had moderated her tone considerably,

presumably having realised that making demands

was not the best way to extract answers from this

stranger. She got her reward.

'They're not creatures,' the Doctor explained.

'They're ships — vessels that can fly in the air.

This is a demonstration of power. The Regulators

are trying to show how powerful they are in

comparison to your people.' He turned angrily to

the Regulator. 'That's right, isn't it? You want to

scare them into handing over all the Enamour.'

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The Regulator bent its head, as if acknowledging

that what the Doctor said was true.

The Doctor stood, hands clenched by his side,

and watched helplessly as events unfolded on the

dome overhead. The gunships flew over once again.

When they reached the far side of the city, they

opened fire, sending a barrage of shots down the

valley, over the buildings, across the river. The ships

banked, turned, and flew past for a third time.

Then they fired another volley of purple flame over

Geath in the direction of the hills. Some trees caught

fire. The picture cut to the streets, where people

were running for cover.

'My poor city,' Hilthe whispered.

The Regulator panned around Geath, showing a

city in turmoil and distress. Then it spoke again.

'Nobody has been harmed. Yet. This is a warning. All

substances covered by the Act must be handed over

within ten standard time units.' As it spoke it

shrank and, as soon as it reached his height, it

addressed the Doctor directly. 'We shall be

monitoring your progress.' Then it disappeared.

The council chamber was dim and quiet and the

dome was dark. The ships were gone, but outside

there was the clamour of chaos and confusion.

One by one the lamps around the chamber leapt

alight.

'How much time exactly is ten standard time

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units?' asked Hilthe in an uncertain voice.

The Doctor didn't answer. He thumped his palm

hard against the dragon. 'Bureaucrats!' he spat. 'Is

there anything in the universe I detest more than

bureaucrats? You can travel from the Dawn of

Time to the very end of existence, and there they are

- the cockroaches of eternity! Bureaucrats! With their

rules and their protocols and their procedures and

their unshakeable belief in their own right to enforce

all that mumbo-jumbo! And their superior firepower

to back up their threats! Well, I've had enough! I'm

sick of it!' He stood in the centre of the hall and

shouted up at the darkened dome. 'Do you hear

me? Sick of it! You want all the Enamour? I should

hand it over to the Herald right now!'

'That,' said Rory in exasperation, 'is what I've been saying for ages. Why does nobody listen to

me?'

As they argued, Hilthe finally lost her temper.

'Quiet! Now!' They stopped. 'I am not a stupid old woman, but this is simply too much. Too much to

digest, all at once, and who can think while you

shout at one another? Either one of you tells me

right now what is happening here, or I send for the

watch and have you both slung into the stocks. What is happening?'

The Doctor swung round and stared at her in

alarm.

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Rory said, 'Go on then!'

The Doctor pulled a face. 'Not me! She's scary!

Anyway, she's your friend.'

'What?' Rory said incredulously. 'This whole

thing is your fault!'

'How did you work that one out?'

'You're the one with the time machine! I was on my stag night!'

'Ah. Fair point.' The Doctor turned to Hilthe and

clapped his hands together. 'Right. Are you sitting

comfortably?'

She glared. 'Doctor, my city is being destroyed. Do

not be glib.'

'Destroyed? Hmmm.' His forehead wrinkled.

'No. No. You're right. I'll try to explain...'

The sky above Geath became quieter and darker

until, at last, only the moon glimmered above. The

dragon-ships were gone, for the moment at least.

Amy checked herself for damage, found none,

and then stood up. She reached down to help a

young woman get back to her feet - 'OK? Nothing

hurt? OK then!' - and then she looked round for

the Teller.

He, along with everyone else, had dived for

cover when the dragon-ships opened fire. Now he

was kneeling on the ground, his arms wrapped round

himself, still staring up at the sky.

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'I think they've gone for now,' Amy called out, to reassure people, trusting that the Teller wouldn't

recognise her voice. 'Check the person next to you.

Make sure they're all right.'

As it turned out, she didn't need to issue

instructions; the people around her were already

looking after each other. A glimpse of the old Geath,

she thought, before this horrible stuff smothered its

best instincts.

Nobody went near the Teller. Eventually he

struggled back to his feet of his own accord.

Someone shouted at him, 'This is your doing!'

The Teller looked up in alarm. Three or four men

were moving towards him. 'What have I done?'

'You're the one who brought that dragon here!'

one of the men said. 'That's what they want, isn't it?

You saw those flying beasts - just like that dragon.

You stole it from Dant! They've come to collect it,

and they'll take their revenge at the same time!'

'That's right!' another said. 'And what can we

do? How can we protect ourselves? Our families?' He

gestured round angrily. 'Look at it all! This is what

you've brought upon Geath!'

It was about to turn ugly. Amy abandoned her

cover and ran forward.

'Leave him be! We've got enough problems

without fighting each other!'

Several of the people around her shouted out

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their agreement. Three of the men who had been

threatening the Teller were pulled away by friends or

family; the last one stood for a while, glaring, then

shook his head, spat on the ground, and turned

away.

The Teller stared at Amy, surprised to see her so

near. 'Thank you,' he mouthed. He looked back up at the sky, shaking his head, as if trying to convince

himself that what he had seen had been nothing

more than a dream or a nightmare. But it hadn't. It

had been real.

'You wanted them to believe they had enemies

over the next hill,' Amy said to herself. 'Bet it

doesn't seem such a great idea now, does it?'

All of a sudden, the Teller swung round and

went off at a great pace across the plaza. Amy

continued to walk slowly around the crowd,

checking on those who were still weeping, or

seemed alone. Quietly, she worked her way

amongst the distressed, hoping that the people and

the emotion and the darkness would be enough to

keep her out of the Teller's sight. He crossed the

plaza and ran up some steps. Amy lingered behind

a pillar at the bottom, helping a child back to his

feet, rubbing his knee where he had grazed it when

he had been knocked over, and shooing him back to

his mother.

At the top of the high stone staircase, the Teller

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paused and looked back down the hill across

Geath. Surveying the aftermath, Amy thought. She

turned to look back and see what he was seeing.

Even without the view that the Teller must have

from his higher vantage point, it was obvious that

the city was in uproar. But - and this was odd -

she couldn't see any actual damage. No burning

houses, or tumbled stone, just shocked, terrified

people. Some stumbling, some sobbing, and some

angry.

A band of citizens was gathering in front of the

main doors of the council chamber. A handful of

Beol's knights stood uneasily between them and

the entrance. A chant went up, like the one Amy

had heard only a few hours earlier: Beol. Beol. Beol. It didn't sound anywhere near as enthusiastic as

before. Again, Amy almost felt sorry for the Teller, at

how quickly his rule through Beol was falling apart

- but he did have nobody but himself to blame.

Lost in this vision of chaos and terror, it was

almost too late when she heard footsteps running

back down the steps. Amy pressed back into the

shadows and the Teller hurried past. He had raised

his hood to cover his face. Anonymous, he slipped

back inside the council chamber, using a side

entrance. Amy followed, keeping to the darkness.

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'Let me see,' said Hilthe, 'if I understand what you

have been telling me. Against my instincts and my

beliefs, against all that I know and perceive and

understand, you tell me that creatures that are not of

my world were the makers of this metal. These

strange artists fashioned it into the shape of this

beast and later abandoned it here, deep in our

soil. All this happened long ago, long before my

own people began to live here.' She paused for a

moment, closing her eyes very briefly. 'I shall leave

aside for the moment the many questions I have

concerning the origins of my people.'

The Doctor and Rory exchanged a look of

relief. Getting Hilthe to believe in the existence of

extraterrestrial life was one thing. Asking her to get

to grips with evolution at the same time was

probably a bit much for one evening.

'The makers of the beast abandoned it during the

course of a war,' Hilthe went on. 'A war which they

later lost. My people, discovering the creature, began to work the metal. This has, in some way, called to its

makers and drawn them to Geath, like a beacon on a

hilltop. Speaking through me, they have asked for

the return of their property. But their enemies have

also followed the signal and they too demand that

the metal is given to them.'

She paused to marshal her thoughts, pressing

her fingertips against her forehead.

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'Of this faction we know less, other than that

they are willing to arouse in the hearts of people

great fear and dread. They have been visiting our

city for some time now, but this evening, they

have at last threatened us directly, and they have

shown great powers — they can fly above our

heads like huge birds, they can let loose a fire that

lights up the night sky and destroys whatever it

strikes. Our choices, therefore, seem to be either

that we believe the Herald when she claims that

her people are trustworthy, or we submit to the

threats of her opponents and surrender the metal to

these walking nightmares, these Regulators. One

way we take a risk, the other we put ourselves in

danger. It is an unhappy set of choices.'

The Doctor beamed at her. 'Excellent précis!'

Hilthe raised her eyebrows at him. 'You persist in

this misapprehension that I require your

approval. But you are in error.'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Just saying. I can see

why you did well in this chamber for so long. Till

you lost, that is.'

Hilthe frowned at him and turned away.

Rory said, 'But it's not really a choice, is it,

Doctor? The Regulator's threatened us, thrown

gunships at us. The Herald hasn't. All she's done is

ask us to give back what's hers. Shouldn't it be

returned to her?'

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'Returned to her masters,' said the Doctor.

'Same thing.'

'No it's not,' the Doctor said sharply. 'Masters.

Don't like that word.'

'But you saw her!' Rory persisted. 'She was

friendly! She was beautiful!'

'Appearances? Deceptive? Heard that saying?

How about: All that is gold does not glitter? Does

that ring a bell?'

Rory appealed to Hilthe. 'You must know! She

spoke through you! You must have felt it, too! That it's safe to hand over her Enamour.'

Hilthe did not reply. She was walking slowly

round the dragon, brushing her hand along it,

contemplating what it might mean.

'An ancient feud,' she said. 'And the city of

Geath caught in the midst, between two deadly

enemies whose weapons are more powerful than

anything yet dreamt of by my people.' Her eyes

sparkled. 'You know how this metal works, don't

you, Doctor?'

'Yes, I do,' the Doctor said softly.

'Could it...' A tremor of excitement entered

Hilthe's voice, and she looked hungrily at the

dragon. 'Could it be used to defend us?'

'Don't go there,' said the Doctor, very quickly.

'Could we fashion weapons from it?'

'You could,' said the Doctor. 'But I won't allow

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it.'

'No?' Hilthe came to an abrupt halt at the

dragon's head. She rested both her hands upon it

and began to caress it. 'Is that your choice to make?

Do you decide what is best for the people of Geath?

Have we fallen so far that we now require a

dictator? Why should that be you, Doctor?'

Rory held his breath. Didn't Hilthe have a

point? The dragon was here, in Geath. Even the

Doctor admitted that it had been on this planet for

millennia. So what gave him the right to come in

and demand that the Geathians did what he told

them? Rory eyed the Doctor. It was all pretty high-

handed when you thought about it. Wasn't it just as

bad as the Regulator screaming its demands and

sending its ships? Or waltzing in the night before a

wedding and spiriting away the bride? What gave

the Doctor the right to interfere? It was for the

people here to decide, and Rory couldn't think of

anyone better than Hilthe to make that decision.

'You could try, Hilthe,' the Doctor said very

quietly. 'But if you haven't liked the changes in

your city so far, I think you'd hate what you saw

next. If Geath looks damaged to you now, picture it

as a battlefield. Picture it burning. Picture the

aftermath — the ruin and grief and the sorrow and

the loss. Picture everything you have ever known

and loved ripped to pieces and ground down into

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THE KING’S DRAGON

the dirt. Because that's what would happen. Do

you think either side is going to let you take it?

You haven't seen half of their power and you can't

begin to imagine it. They've got more weapons,

bigger weapons, worse weapons. They don't care

one jot about your beloved city.'

His voice became very kind. 'I know you hated to

lose. I know how much you miss your old life - all

the thrill of debate, of talking people down, of

winning. And you're right - if you used this

technology, you'd get the city back. Everything

you lost would be restored. You'd become Queen -

but you'd be the Queen of a nightmare. The Queen of

Ruin. Is that how you want to be remembered? Is

that what you want for Geath?'

Hilthe bowed her head. Her hands were shaking.

Rory could see the struggle going on within her.

'That's Enamour, Hilthe,' the Doctor said gently.

'Making you want it. Making you want the vision

that it's showing you. But it's lying. And you've

lived too long and seen too much to be fooled now by

a lie so blatant.'

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Rory

thought there was a faint glow about Hilthe, a

trace of the Herald perhaps, as if something of the

alien's presence remained within the old woman. All

of a sudden, Rory was desperate for Hilthe to take

over. More than anything he wanted her to

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claim the dragon for her own. If Hilthe was the

one making the decisions, Rory knew without

doubt that he would do anything she asked. 'Take it,'

he murmured. 'Take it.'

'Can you hear it, Rory?' the Doctor said quietly.

'Can you hear the dragon? Listen. Listen...'

Rory listened - and heard. Faintly, but he heard.

The dragon was singing.

'The Queen of Ruin, Hilthe.' The Doctor's voice

was hideously discordant against the dragon-song.

Rory could have hit him for wrecking something so

beautiful. 'Hilthe the Destroyer. They'll sing the name

for ever, and they'll curse it.'

Abruptly, Hilthe stepped back. She released her

hold on the dragon's head. The music stopped. 'That...

was unexpected,' she said. She gave a small and shaky

laugh. 'Perhaps you are right, Doctor. It is all so very gaudy. Geath will be better without it.'

Rory gave a sigh of relief. His conviction that

Hilthe should take possession of the metal seemed

strange now; a delusion, a moment of madness. He

shook his head to clear it of any echo and then he

frowned. 'Doctor. That humming, that song - it hasn't

stopped. It's getting louder.'

'I know,' the Doctor replied through gritted

teeth. He ran round the dragon to stand where

Hilthe had been only moments before and looked

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down at the beast's head.

Rory followed him round and stared at the

dragon in amazement. Its other eye was opening,

revealing a red glow behind a heavy liquid lid. Its

jaw began to move. Then, behind the ever-louder

song, Rory heard a creaking sound. Looking up, he

saw the dragon's metal wings unfolding.

'Doctor, it's waking! The dragon is waking!'

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Chapter

7

The Teller took a deliberately complicated route deep into the heart of the council building. It didn't

take Amy long to realise that he too was keeping to

the shadows and trying not to run into anyone.

Perhaps that wasn't surprising given the way the

townsfolk had reacted to him in the plaza earlier.

Amy wasn't complaining. The Teller had earned

their fury, and his sneaking around worked to her

benefit.

The corridors became narrower but hardly bare.

Enamour covered every wall, pale and uncanny.

Eventually, the Teller came to a small arch over

which curtains were drawn. He went through.

Amy hurried to the end of the corridor and

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twitched one of the curtains to look inside. The

room beyond was a private apartment, small but

beautifully furnished. A big, comfortable bed

dominated the space. Enamour glistened thickly -

but only here and there, as if someone started

decorating and then lost interest.

The Teller sat down in one of the ornate chairs. He

chewed at his thumbnail and muttered under his

breath, occasionally glancing over at another

curtained arch on the far side of the room. He

was clearly waiting for someone. After a few

minutes, he jumped up and started pacing from

lamp to lamp, taking them out of their holdings

and examining them, as if trying to work out some

means by which they could wither and die. Some

means other than alien intervention.

Amy waited patiently. At last, someone came

through the other arch. A man in golden armour,

on the breastplate of which was a beautifully

stylised symbol of a golden dragon, rampant, on a

red field.

The Teller greeted the new arrival. 'Where have you

been?' He went to help him take off the helmet. This

resembled the dragon's head - or, perhaps, the

long muzzle of the Regulator's mask - the nose

guard recalling the snout, the cheek plates

thrusting upwards in the shape of wings. A red

plume rose from the crown. Beol - for of course

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it was he - looked the very definition of a warrior

king.

'Where do you think I've been?' Beol said as

soon as he was free of the helmet. 'Ordering the

defence of the city.' He placed his hand upon the

Teller's shoulder and gave his broad and startlingly

beautiful smile. 'And where have you been

throughout this crisis, oh wisest of counsellors?'

'Where do you think I've been? Watching your

back!'

Beol laughed. 'What would I do without you?'

'You'd have an unguarded back,' the Teller said.

'I've also been gathering information.'

'Yes? Useful information?'

'You're not going to believe the half of it,' the

Teller muttered.

Beol walked over to a nearby table, where a jug

of water and a cup stood ready and waiting. He

poured out some water and drank deeply. 'Don't

worry. I know already. The city's mood is

changing.'

The Teller blinked. 'What?'

'I saw the crowd out in the plaza. I heard

what they were saying. I know that people are

frightened.' He shook his head. 'I can hardly blame

them. Dragons, fire in the sky, candles and lamps

that fade out as if in fear. I understand why they're

afraid - I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm afraid

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myself. These things are beyond reason! But don't

worry. I'll do my part. If those beasts come past

again, I'll be there. I'll fight. Not just for the city of Geath, but for you.'

The Teller stared at him. 'What are you talking

about?'

Beol put down his cup and walked over to the

Teller. He rested his strong hands upon the other

man's shoulders and smiled down at him. 'You've

done everything for me. Our whole lives. But it's

my turn now. You got us here. I'm going to keep us

here. You don't have to worry.'

From where Amy was standing, she could see

the pair of them side on: a tall golden man and a

smaller dark one. One of the lamps behind them

flickered, altering the composition of the tableau,

bringing the profiles of each man into relief.

Suddenly, the similarity between them was revealed:

the same long nose, the same curve to the chin, the

goldish tinge to the Teller's hair, the brownish shade

in the King's hair. Amy almost gasped. How had

she missed it? These men were so obviously

brothers.

I’m going to protect you,' Beol said. 'I'll always

protect you. You have my word, not just as a man,

but as King of the Geathians.' He kissed his brother

quickly on both cheeks and gave another ravishing

smile. Then he moved back into action, the hero of

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his own story. 'Now,' he said, 'back to my knights.

We have an enemy to prepare for and to defeat.'

The Teller stood stock-still in the middle of the

room. Beol had apparently taken all the words out of

his mouth. After a moment, he shook himself and

turned to speak to his brother. 'Beol, you've got to

listen to me—'

'Best thing for you is to stay in here till this

whole business is over, I think. No point exposing

yourself to any danger, whether from the townsfolk or

these creatures. Leave that to me.' Beol took

another deep drink of water and threw the cup onto

the bed. He picked up his helmet again but paused

before putting it back on. His face lit up and his

eyes shone. This was how Rory had looked, Amy

thought, seeing the dragon-ships flying overhead.

'Stars, though!' Beol said. 'Did you see them? If

they didn't mean us ill, you'd have to call them

beautiful! Swift and supple, like liquid metal across

the sky - never did I dream I'd see something like

that! Like one of your old stories come to life! You

did see them, didn't you? I'd hate for you not to

have seen them, even if only the once.'

'Yes, I did - Beol, please, listen to me!'

Beol halted on his way back out.

'These creatures,' said the Teller. 'They're not...

they're not from our world.'

Beol frowned. 'I don't understand —'

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'You've seen them!' spluttered the Teller. 'Where do

you think they come from?'

Beol eyed him cautiously. 'It's been a long

night,' he said. He nodded at his bed. 'Perhaps you

should think about getting some rest. I've told you I'll take care of everything.'

'Beol!'

'Perhaps I should have made you rest sooner. It's

been a busy few months. We don't have to turn our

attention to Dant immediately. We'll sort out this

business first.'

'Dant? You don't seriously think all of this is

coming from Dant, do you? Beol, those dragons are machines. When, exactly, do you think the people of

Dant learned to build machinery like that? How,

exactly, do you think they have learned to set fire to

the sky?'

'But who else can it be? Who else holds a grudge

against us?'

'Beol,' said the Teller carefully, 'you do

remember that we didn't actually take the dragon from Dant, don't you? That was just a story that I

made up. Remember?'

'No coincidence those three turning up tonight, is

it? Citizens of Dant? Spies, more like! I'll say one thing before I go, though, you got them wrong. Two children

and a fool, you said! Nothing to worry about, you

said! Next thing we know - dragons

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THE KING’S DRAGON

overhead!'

Behind her curtain, Amy winced. Not such a

good cover story after all, perhaps.

'Which reminds me,' Beol said. 'Probably best all

round if we have the three of them locked up. Can't

have three spies from Dant running around the city,

if we're likely to be at war by the end of the week.'

He tucked his helmet under his arm. 'Enough

talking! Back to doing! I can't spend the night

hidden away in here. I have to be outside. As soon

as the people see their King, they'll be heartened!'

He drew back the curtain. 'We knew it was only a

matter of time before they came to get it. Don't

worry! Nobody from Dant is going to lay a finger

on our dragon! It's ours - and ours it will stay.' He

nodded towards the bed again. 'Put your feet up.

Get some shut-eye. We'll talk again in the morning.'

Then he strode out of the room, whistling, a young

man confident that his considerable strength would

be enough.

The Teller chased after him. 'Beol, we owe

these people nothing! You're going to get yourself

killed!'

Amy whistled softly to herself. So many stories;

stories that had not been true when they were first

told, but were now taking on lives of their own,

twisting round and turning true... The people of

Dant had sent spies to Geath and now they were

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coming to claim their dragon...

Time to get back to the Doctor and Rory. But

could she get there before they were seized by

Beol's men? She glanced across the room to the

arch through which the two brothers had left. No

point going that way; she would only be following

them. Most likely she would arrive just in time to

see the boys dragged off. She would only end up

having to prise them out of the stocks.

'Oh, now that's a tempting image...'

However, and with regret, Amy turned back the

way she had come, setting off at a run in search of

another, quicker way round to the council

chamber.

Her head pounded with unanswered questions:

Where had Beol and the Teller found the dragon?

Who had they been before arriving in Geath? And

who, out of all the parties now laying claim to it,

had the best claim to all the Enamour?

As the wings of the dragon extended and lifted, its

head bent forwards until the snout almost touched

the ground. The wings spread out as the dragon

eased them effortlessly apart, gears and metal

smooth despite long centuries lying dormant.

The Doctor hung back for a moment. When

nothing rose up, writhed forwards or jumped out, he

went to see what treasure lay within.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

'Ah! Now I understand!'

Reaching inside the dragon, he triumphantly

lifted aloft a madly intricate piece of equipment, a

tangle of wires hanging down from it like

tentacles.

'Emotional amplifier! Now we know why the

Teller's been getting such a high level of audience

appreciation.'

'Do we?' said Rory, bewildered.

The Doctor, who had been thumping buttons

and twiddling dials, peered at him. 'Ah. Of course. No

technobabble. Take a guess, Rory. What do you think

an emotional amplifier might do?'

Hilthe stepped forwards to peer at the device.

The Doctor shook it. It went ping. 'Might it amplify emotion, by any chance?' Hilthe said.

'Spot on! Gold star! Second thoughts, not

gold. It does indeed amplify emotions. Someone

tells you a story and if you're within the range,

the whole experience becomes more affecting,

more meaningful. I've no problem with them for

personal use - they're great for repeats; honestly,

you can recapture the experience of watching the

first time - but I'm not so happy about them being

used on a big audience. And when combined

with Enamour...' He gave Hilthe a knowing look.

'No wonder you've had problems getting out the

core vote. There's Beol, offering people the kind

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of riches they've never dreamed of, and there's

the Teller, turning the King's exploits into the

pre-industrial equivalent of a box-office smash.

Good old-fashioned tub-thumping didn't stand a

chance. Sorry, Hilthe. If it's any consolation, it's the same old story, wherever you go - the first to get the

hang of the new communications medium always

wins.'

'No apology necessary, Doctor,' Hilthe said

briskly. 'If anything, I do feel slightly better knowing there was no decline in my own abilities.'

'Good for you!'

'But how did the Teller work out how to use this

emo-amp-thingie?' Rory said. 'How did he operate

it?'

'I don't think he did,' the Doctor said. 'I think the

amplifier was on standby, and when he dug up the

dragon - whenever and wherever that happened -

it reactivated. It would have started working for him

without him knowing what was happening. I bet

he was amazed to discover his stories were getting

such good reception at last. Give him his due - he's

known how to make the most of it all.'

'So this must be what the Regulator is using?'

Rory said. 'Emotional amplifiers. Only they know

how to use them properly.'

'Another not-gold star! Now, the Regulator has

been amplifying different emotions. It stirs up

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THE KING’S DRAGON

fear and anxiety in order to frighten people into

doing what it wants. The Teller has been whipping

up excitement and enthusiasm. People feel that

something special is happening, and they want to be

part of it. They want to get close to it.'

'So that's why all anyone can talk about is the

King?' Rory said, remembering the Beol-centric

conversation in the hall.

'Exactly! It doesn't feel anywhere near as

unpleasant as what the Regulator is doing, but it's

still a kind of coercion. Most fads and fashions are

when you think about it. On top of that, the effects of

Enamour aren't stable. People are going to want more

and more. They'll want more of the metal and they'll

want more impact from the Teller's stories. He and

Beol will have to deliver, or else public opinion will

turn against them, and the backlash won't be

pretty. Emotions are already running high.' The

Doctor paused, the amplifier still in his hand. 'Of

course, the Regulator will blow us up first. I'd

better not forget about that.'

'Please don't,' said Rory.

But the Doctor had returned to rummaging

inside the belly of the beast. 'Now, what else do we

have here? Ah, this is very interesting...' He popped

back out again, carrying a black and silver box

topped by an impossibly tiny satellite dish. 'Take a

seat, both of you. This is something you

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should see.'

Rory ran across to the arcade and brought back

two chairs, one for him and one for Hilthe. They

both sat down. The Doctor played around with the

box for a few moments. The dish started spinning

wildly. 'That should do it!' He aimed it up at the

roof.

Rory and Hilthe both looked up to see images

dancing across the dome of the chamber. The

colours were richer and deeper than in the images

the Regulator had transmitted. Rory burst out

laughing. 'IMAX! Nice one, Doctor!'

Hilthe stared at the display in amazement.

'Earlier, the Regulator showed us pictures of my

city from above. I do not recognise these places

that you are showing me.'

The Doctor smiled. 'I know you don't need my

approval, Mother, but I've still got to say... you're

very quick. Very quick indeed. No, this is different.

The Regulator showed us what was happening

outside, right at the moment we were watching.

Live broadcast. But these are pictures from the

past — from the Herald's past and the Regulator's

past. I think if we watch them we'll learn a whole lot

more about the nature of the feud between the Feond.

Perhaps by the end, we'll have a better idea which one

of them should be given the metal.' He glanced at

Rory, who was about to answer, and

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put a finger to his lips. 'Take a look before you say

anything more.'

'But, Doctor—'

'Pretty pictures! Free movie!'

Rory sighed, folded his arms, and leaned back in

his chair. As he watched, high above him, the

story of a brutal civil war unfolded. It was a war

that had taken place millennia ago between people

alien to everyone in the room. An ancient golden

empire, ruled by the Bright Nobles of the Feond,

was shredded by a violent revolution. It began

on a small world at the fringes of their territory and

spread across planets and systems and centuries.

The images shifted, and changed, showing the

bloodshed on every single one of the empire's

thousands of worlds, with the armies of the imperial

families on one side, and the militias formed by its

servants and bonds-people on the other. They

watched as the habitations of the Bright Nobles

were torched in the first attacks by the rebels. They

saw the bloody reprisals, as the ruling party burned

the ecologies of insurrectionist worlds into desolation.

They watched the agonies and destruction of total

interplanetary war. And they sat through the

vicious endgame, when the Imperial Lord of

Light himself was at last caught in the catacombs

below the Celestial Hall, trapped amongst the bones

and the tombs of his

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DOCTOR WHO

ancestors, and was slaughtered with his last loyal

legion of Bright Lords. They saw the Thirteen, the

representatives of the Oversight Committee, raise

their black flag amidst the charred ruins of the Hall

and start to squabble over the reconstruction. Last of

all, they saw lifeboats disappear into the void of space, the last remnants of the noble households making

their escape, fleeing into exile with whatever

remained of all they had once possessed, sustained by

dreams of a glorious restoration.

The images came to an end. 'A choice between

aristocrats and bureaucrats,' the Doctor muttered.

'Why is nothing ever simple?' He glanced over at

Hilthe. 'You see now that you made the right

decision, Mother?'

'Yes.' She nodded slowly. 'Yes, I do see that

now. To use tools such as this, even in defence...

Soon enough they would be used in anger.' She

shuddered. 'I would not want a repeat of all that I

have seen here. Not in Geath. Not for anything.'

'Said you were wise.'

Hilthe tilted her head, permitting the

compliment this time. 'The sooner the city is free of

these terrible devices the better. Doctor, let me hear

your counsel. What would you advise?'

'We have to hand it over to the Herald,' Rory

said quickly. 'She hasn't shot at us. Giving in to

the Regulator would be like giving in to blackmail.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

Wouldn't it? They've threatened us. That's like...

terrorists!'

The Doctor flicked the tiny satellite dish, setting it

spinning like a gyroscope. 'However,' he said, 'the

Regulators

clearly

understand

how

dangerous

Enamour is. They saw how it was used to control

their people, to maintain that perfect society.

Perhaps that's why they're reacting so strongly.'

Rory appealed to Hilthe. 'Can't you explain?

She spoke through you—'

Hilthe held up her hand to stop him. 'Doctor,

am I correct in my assumption that what we saw

was an account of the war seen through the eyes of

the Herald and her people?'

'Yes, I think that's right.'

Hilthe turned to Rory. 'If we were to ask the

Regulators, we might hear a very different version of

why this war was fought.' She frowned. 'It strikes

me that the Herald chose her vessel and her

mouthpiece very carefully. Who else in Geath would

be so receptive to the idea of a restoration? Who else

in Geath has longed as much as I have to see the

old order return? The Herald and her masters are

plainly very clever. I do not trust them as much as

you trust them. And the reason that I do not trust is

because I am in many ways very like them.' She

gave the Doctor a wry smile and he smiled back.

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DOCTOR WHO

'So,' Hilthe said to him, 'returning to my original

question. What would you advise, Doctor?'

'First, I think we should get the dragon out

into the main plaza. The Regulator said it was

monitoring our progress. Moving it would be the

best demonstration of progress we could make.'

He stared at the dragon for a moment and then

started shoving bits of alien wires and technology

into his improbably capacious pocket. 'Also, it will

be one less temptation round here.'

Rory watched him in disbelief. 'Doctor, how

exactly do we go about moving a massive golden

dragon without anybody noticing?'

The Doctor threw the amplifier back inside the

dragon. It landed with a clatter. He held up a finger.

'Working on that one! Working on that one right

now!'

'Doctor, we won't get as far as the front door!'

'Maybe not.' The Doctor pulled out the sonic

screwdriver and used it to seal up the dragon

again. 'But I'm guessing that the people of Geath

might be glad to see the back of the thing. It's

hardly been a good night for them, after all.' He

bent down to look underneath the dragon. 'Is this

thing on wheels?'

'After this evening, I'll admit that anything is

possible,' Hilthe said. 'But you'll have to persuade

Beol first.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

'Beol,' muttered the Doctor, as he stood up

again. 'Don't talk to me about—Ah, Beol! There

you are!' He goggled at him. 'What a spectacular

hat!'

'Doctor!' Beol stood in the doorway of the

council chamber, magnificent in his dragon

armour and helmet. 'Why am I not surprised to

see you here?'

135

Chapter

8

Beol strode across the chamber towards them. Four of his knights followed him, and behind them came a

fraught-looking Teller.

'It is most strange!' said the King. 'Only a few

short hours ago my guests were shown to their

rooms - the best rooms that I can offer! - and yet

here they are, in the dead of night, skulking round

the council chamber... What, I wonder, could have

brought them here?'

'Yes.' The Doctor jerked his thumb at the dragon.

'Well, that, obviously. And your Teller has already

done that joke. Very good, though. Did you think of

it yourself?'

Beol glanced at Hilthe. 'I confess that I'm

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DOCTOR WHO

surprised to find you here, Mother. I thought you

held Geath's interests at heart.' Hilthe opened her

mouth to protest, but Beol turned away from her to

speak to his knights. 'Take them away.'

'Now hold on a moment!' The Doctor ran to

take cover behind the dragon, dragging Rory after

him. 'Beol, I don't know what you think is going on

here, but I can absolutely one hundred per cent

guarantee that you're wrong. You're so wrong

that right now whole new scales of wrongness are

being calibrated simply to encompass the sheer

magnitude of wrong... This isn't winning you

over, is it?'

'Beol,' said the Teller. 'He's a clown but I think

you should listen to him—'

Beol raised his hand. 'I know already what you

have to say, Doctor. I admit I do not understand how

you have conjured up these strange apparitions,

but my Teller has already explained that they are

not demons or monsters, but simply mechanical. If

men have made them, I can master them.'

'No, no, no!' The Teller clutched his hands to his

head. 'That's not what I was saying! That's the

opposite of what I was saying! Beol, you can't defeat these ships! Not alone!'

'I am the King of Geath, not you!' Beol replied.

Shocked, the Teller took a step back.

'Oh, marvellous, just what my life needs,'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

muttered the Doctor. 'Another power-hungry

megalomaniac.'

'It falls to me to protect this city,' Beol said

regally. 'As we promised.' He put his hand upon

the Teller's shoulder. 'You are very dear to me. But I

shall not allow you to make me break my word. I

have enjoyed all the riches and honours that the

people of this city could lavish upon me. Now I

shall play the part that they expect from me. I shall do what we promised. What I promised.'

'Doctor,' Rory whispered. 'He doesn't sound

power-hungry. He sounds honest.'

'They're the worst kind,' the Doctor said. 'The

ones who believe everything they're saying. Next

it'll be the special destiny or "I did what I thought was right."'

As he spoke, the dome darkened and the

unmistakable shadows of the dragon-ships were

visible again through the gold.

'Beol,' said the Doctor firmly. 'This is an enemy

that you do not understand. You can't defeat it,

not without my help and no matter how much you

strut around in a gold hat saying that you can. People

will die if you don't let me help - the same people

that you claim to be protecting.'

Beol ignored him. 'Take them and lock them

up,' he said to his knights. 'Then you two - find

the girl. You two - come and join me outside.

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DOCTOR WHO

We'll show these dragon-folk we're not afraid of

anything they can throw at us!'

The knights moved towards the Doctor and

Rory, but Hilthe intervened, stepping between

them. 'These people are our friends. They are

trying to save the city from some terrible enemies. I

strongly advise that you pay attention to what they

have to say.'

'Yes!' said the Teller. 'She knows! She's seen!'

The King cut her off. 'Mother, I have always

held you in great respect. You have been a fine

servant of this city and I have honoured you for

your long years of dedicated work. But your

people and your city would be better served now if

you did not allow yourself to be gulled by spies sent

to sow the seeds of mistrust amongst us. And it

would break my heart to learn that you were part

of their plot.'

'Spies?' Hilthe glanced uneasily back over her

shoulder at Rory and the Doctor. 'Plot?'

'They are spies sent from Dant,' Beol said.

'Dant?' Hilthe frowned. 'Don't be ridiculous.

They're not from Dant!'

Beol addressed the Doctor. 'Who are you, if not a

spy from Dant?'

'I'm the Doctor,' he said patiently. 'I'm here to

help —'

Ìf you are here to help,' asked Beol, 'why did you

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THE KING’S DRAGON

present my gatekeeper with credentials showing

you were an envoy from Dant? Why did you allow

me to receive you at court in that capacity?'

'Ah,' said the Doctor. 'There's an excellent reason

for that. An absolutely convincing and thoroughly

persuasive reason. I just have to think of what it

is.'

'Well, Doctor,' said Rory. 'Another fine mess...'

Hilthe said, 'I am sure there must be a reasonable

explanation.'

'Perhaps there is,' Beol replied equably. 'Perhaps

you can explain, Doctor, where the young woman

who was with you before has gone? Did you send

her to spy upon us while you made mischief

here?'

Suspicion clouded Hilthe's face. Of course,

Rory thought guiltily, that was exactly what she

had seen — the Doctor sending Amy after the Teller.

Hilthe gave him a bewildered look that quickly

turned into mistrust and suspicion. Rory's heart

plummeted. It hurt to think that Hilthe thought

less of him.

The shadows of the dragon-ships passed

overhead once more. The dome quaked.

'I have no more time for this,' Beol said. 'I must go

out to the city. Seize them. Find the girl.' 'Doctor,'

said Rory, 'I think we're sunk.'

'I'm coming to that conclusion myself.'

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DOCTOR WHO

'What's your plan?'

'Plan?'

'You do have a plan?'

'Of course I have a plan.' The Doctor whipped

out the tiny satellite dish, and brandished it

aggressively.

'Never in a million years are they going to

believe that's a weapon,' Rory said. 'They're pre-

industrialisation, not stupid.'

The Doctor put the dish away. 'Fine. Let's go

with the other plan. My very first plan and still my

very best plan.'

Rory, knowing what was coming next, groaned,

'Oh no...'

'Run!' shouted the Doctor as inevitably as

sunrise or entropy.

They ran. They dived across the chamber into the

cover of the arcade and sprinted down it, chucking

chairs and tables and gold figurines behind them in

order to slow down the knights' pursuit. They

crashed through some wooden doors and carried on

running along a wide curving corridor. Then, all of

a sudden, Rory swerved round and started heading

back towards the chamber.

'Rory!' yelled the Doctor. 'Not the plan! Not the plan!'

'Hilthe!' Rory called to him over his shoulder.

'Beol thinks she's betrayed him! I can't leave her

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THE KING’S DRAGON

there!'

The Doctor ground to a halt. 'Why?' he said, to

the gilded ceiling or fate or simply to the universe in

general. 'Why must they be so wilful?' He jogged back down the corridor, where Rory was now being

held by two of Beol's knights. As the other two

advanced upon him, the Doctor pointed towards

Rory. 'You can't lock us up! He's getting married in

the morning! No? Worth a try...'

Amy watched these events unfold from the

shadow of a column at the far end of the room.

Rory and the Doctor made their run for it and the

knights chased them. Beol left, presumably to get

back to the defence of the city, and the Teller dashed

after him. Only Hilthe remained, standing with her

hands clenched by her side, staring at the dragon.

Amy heard Rory, in the distance, shout Hilthe's

name. A few moments later, she watched the

knights drag both him and the Doctor back into

the council chamber. Hilthe took one look at them,

turned on her heel and marched off.

As the Doctor and Rory were hauled off, the

Doctor protesting loudly and ineffectively, Amy

considered what to do next. If she went after

Beol's men, she ran the risk of only saving them

the trouble of searching for her. Hanging round

the chamber was probably not a good idea either

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DOCTOR WHO

since they might well come back this way. Time

was running out. They needed allies, quickly, if

they were ever to have a hope of ridding Geath of

all the Enamour. Amy decided to follow Hilthe.

Perhaps if she talked to her woman-to-woman, she

might repair some of the damage done. If she could

explain the Doctor... but how did you explain the

Doctor? He was inexplicable. 'Don't worry about

that for now,' Amy muttered to herself. 'Stay on

target.'

Outside, the Regulator's ships were making

another flypast. Pandemonium reigned in the

grand plaza. Once the ships had passed by, Amy

heard more angry and anxious shouts for Beol.

Then she heard his voice, rising above the crowd,

responding to them, and - almost impossibly -

calming them, soothing them, inspiring them. By

the time Amy reached the far side of the plaza and

began to follow Hilthe up some stone steps, she

could hear cheering break out behind her.

Hilthe was waiting for her at the top of the

steps. 'I don't like being followed.'

'I'm sorry,' said Amy. 'I thought it was the best

thing to do.'

'The best thing to do would be to surrender to

Beol. That would also be the honourable thing to

do.'

'I haven't done anything wrong! And that

144

THE KING’S DRAGON

wouldn't be best for Geath.'

'How self-serving! Young woman, whatever

your paymasters in Dant have promised you, is it

worth all this? Our cities have been friends for such

a long time! Why should anyone wish to see that

change?'

'I don't know,' said Amy. 'I'm not from Dant.

Anyway, neither are the ships. Please, believe me.

This is serious, much more serious than you realise

—'

'Your charlatan friend the Doctor has gone to

considerable lengths to convince me of that. Light

shows across the dome of the council hall! Tall tales

of a civil war amongst the stars!' Hilthe spoke

angrily. 'Some sort of mesmerism to make me

imagine someone was speaking to me! What a fool

I've been! Why did I believe a word of it? Whatever

possessed me?'

'But it's all true!' Amy took a step forwards.

'You've seen the ships! Not a light show or a

picture — up there, in the sky above you! How can

you explain them? I've not been to Dant, but I bet

they don't have hardware anything like that!'

Hilthe hesitated and Amy pressed on. 'We only

want to help. Before time runs out and those ships

attack in earnest. All they've done so far is set fire to a few trees. When they turn those weapons on the

city, it will be gone in no time. The whole city,

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DOCTOR WHO

gone! The Doctor can help, but not if he's locked

up in a dungeon somewhere. Please, Hilthe! There

isn't much time left!'

Hilthe looked up at the sky. The ships were gone,

like a bad dream, and only the moon remained,

high and full. Hilthe gestured to Amy to follow.

'Come with me. Beol has people out looking for

you. We must get you undercover. I'll take you to

my house. Then you can explain why, having lied to

both me and Beol, I should believe a single word you

have to say now.'

That was a tricky one, Amy thought, as Hilthe

led her through the streets. It had seemed such a

good idea at the time to pass themselves off as

locals; a shortcut to the heart of the action.

Travelling with the Doctor, always moving on —

you could forget that there were consequences to

your actions. When Amy had stepped into the

TARDIS, she had stepped out of her old life like a

snake sloughing off scales. It made everything so

easy.

They reached Hilthe's house, dark between the

other gaudy buildings. Hilthe led Amy inside and

took her to a reception room at the far end of the

house. 'Wait here,' Hilthe said. 'I'll have some

refreshment brought up. Then we'll talk.'

Hilthe closed the door behind her. Amy paced

the room restlessly. 'Stupid place! Dragons and

146

THE KING’S DRAGON

Enamour and things with claws for hands...' She

shivered despite the heat. That was the worst

thing about all this, she thought, the sick cold fear

that the Regulator induced. All this shaking and

quivering - that wasn't how Amy imagined herself.

Amy Pond was someone who climbed over walls,

and kept a brave Scottish accent going in defiance of

the onslaught of Gloucestershire vowels, and took

a ride in a time machine because it was there and -

well, because you would, wouldn't you? But the

Regulator battered through these defences as if they

were as insubstantial as mist. It left her feeling

frightened and, worse, it left her feeling alone.

'Stupid!' Amy muttered fiercely to herself.

'You're not alone! You're...'

A fugitive in the night on an alien world, with

monsters on the loose and footsteps in the corridor.

Booted footsteps. In the corridor.

Amy swung round. She heard Hilthe say, 'In

here.' She had been betrayed. Worse than that, she

had let herself be led into a trap.

'Stupid! Stupid!'

Amy grabbed a chair and shoved it in front of

the door, propping it under the handle to delay

any entrance. She looked wildly around the room for

another way out. She ran to the window, but it was

sealed. She shook it hard but it might as well have

been barred. 'It's the middle of summer!' Amy

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DOCTOR WHO

yelled at Hilthe. 'Why are your windows locked,

you frightful woman!'

The guards were battering at the door. Amy saw a

curtain on the far wall and wondered desperately if

she could hide behind it. Nothing else to try. She

pulled the curtain back to see a narrow staircase.

Servants' access. 'Oh, workers of the world unite!'

Amy said gratefully and dashed up the stairs as

the guards broke through the door.

Amy came out on a bare landing. There was a

window at the far end. She ran over and opened it far

enough to be able to clamber out onto the roof. She

pulled the window down behind her and then set off,

half-running, half-scrambling, across the sloping

roof. Seeing its edge come up, she judged the

distance, made a running jump, and landed cat-like

safely on the next house along. She looked back and

whistled. 'Wow! Go me!'

Then she saw the guards. They were through the

window and in pursuit. Amy ran across the rooftop.

'Great,' she muttered as she crashed past a

chimney. 'Now I'm a character in a video game.'

She made it comfortably onto the next building.

This had a wide flat roof with chairs and potted

plants dotted around, probably very nice during

the day. Amy ran to the far side. Her heart sank to

see how far the jump was. She ran round the

perimeter of the roof in increasing desperation,

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THE KING’S DRAGON

sweating and panting for breath, but there wasn't

any easy way over.

The two guards leapt across easily from the last

building. 'Don't be stupid, girlie,' one of them shouted at her. 'You'll never make it!'

That clinched it. Next he'd be calling her a

lady.

'Don't "girlie" me!' Amy yelled back. She

grabbed one of the potted plants, threw it blindly at

her pursuers, and then set off at a run towards the

edge of the building. When she reached it, she

jumped. 'Geronim-aargh!'

'Why is it always you I'm locked up with?' Rory

complained. He was sitting on a pallet, arms folded

and legs stretched out, watching the candle burn

down. 'It's not fair! It's always you. There was that

time on Ariel Station in the zero-g factory. Then

again after the thing with the semi-llamas. Oh,

and let's not forget the basement in that house in

Venice... I mean, it's not that I mind basements or

even llama thingies - I don't mind them, not really -

it's just that it's the night before my wedding.

Couldn't I get locked up with Amy for once?'

The Doctor - kneeling as he had been for the

past half-hour in front of the locked door, sonic

screwdriver in hand - said, 'Or else with a stripper

called Lucy?'

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DOCTOR WHO

'I didn't know she was coming! Besides, she

didn't strip, did she?'

The Doctor gave him a narrow look. 'Only

because she didn't get the chance.'

'It still doesn't count! Anyway, I'm not the one that kissed somebody else's girlfriend. Fiancée.

Good as wife, actually — it's only a matter of hours. If you ever get us back. If you ever manage to open that

door—'

'Rory,' said the Doctor in exasperation, 'could you

please be quiet for a few minutes? I am trying to

carry out an extremely complex technical task.'

'You're trying to open a door!'

'I'm trying to open an extremely complex

technical door!'

There was a short silence. Rory sulked at his

shoes. The Doctor glowered at the door and

wielded the sonic screwdriver like a broadsword.

'It's not as if that thing ever works,' Rory said. 'I

don't think it does wood.'

'I'd ask you please to respect the sonic.'

'I don't think it does locks.'

'Respect the sonic!'

There was another short silence.

'I don't even know why you're bothering,' Rory

said. 'Give it half an hour and Amy will turn up.

She always does.'

The Doctor leaned back on his heels and stared

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THE KING’S DRAGON

bitterly at the door. Then he sighed, put the sonic

screwdriver into his pocket, and stood up. 'Move

over,' he said. He slumped down next to Rory on

the pallet, crossed his legs at the ankles, and

brooded down at his feet.

'The problem is,' he said, after a while, 'we

might not have half an hour. Ten standard time

units! I ask you! Not only is it a rubbish name for a unit of time,' he said this to the ceiling, as if hoping that the Regulator might somehow hear him, 'but it's

absolutely no help in letting me know how much

time I've actually got!'

'I hate to say it, but none of this would have

happened if you'd only handed over the stupid

stuff to the Herald when I said we should.'

The Doctor sighed. 'You do realise, don't

you, that you're under the influence of a mind-

controlling metal? And not only that but you're

getting boring. Beyond boring. Boring was our last

moment of excitement.'

'My mind is not under control!' Rory shot back.

'And I didn't mean that the way it came out!'

The Doctor pulled a face. They waited. The

candle burned lower.

'So what do you think is going to happen?' Rory

said in a subdued voice.

'If we don't get out of here? After whatever is

left of our ten "standard time units" —' never 151

DOCTOR WHO

had scare quotes been so ferociously delivered,

'the Regulator will turn up, guns blazing. Unless

Beol has had a miraculous change of heart, he'll

ride out to battle, whereupon he will, I fear, be

promptly turned into barbecue. Depending upon

how much firepower the Herald's people have at

their disposal, they will then most likely mount an

attack in order to try and seize the metal from the

Regulators. The Regulators will fight back tooth

and claw. You saw what they were like when they got

going. Collateral damage isn't going to be a big

concern. If there's anything of Geath left standing

in the morning, I'll be amazed.' The Doctor tapped

his forefinger against his lip. 'If it's any consolation, you and I are likely to survive the battle because

we're probably down deep enough in here. So the

only thing we'll have to worry about is being locked

in a dungeon with the crumbling tons of a ruined

city heaped on top of us. At some point in all this the

candle will go out.' The Doctor scratched his nose.

'Does that answer your immediate questions?'

Rory nodded.

'Can I sit and think for a while now?'

Rory nodded again.

After a few minutes, a key turned in the lock.

They both sat up, and looked hopefully towards

the door. It opened, Amy was pushed inside, and

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THE KING’S DRAGON

the door was locked again behind her.

The Doctor elbowed Rory. 'Be careful what you

wish for.'

153

Chapter

9

Ten minutes later, the three travelers had brought each other up to speed. They had also considered

their options and dismissed each of the plans

suggested. Now they sat in a row on the pallet. Amy

glowered at a scratch that ran the length of her left

forearm.

The

Doctor

turned

the

sonic

screwdriver on and off, on and off. Rory twiddled

Hilthe's map between his fingers. The candle

burned slowly down. On and off clicked the sonic

screwdriver, on and off. Amy glared at the Doctor.

He pulled a face, switched the sonic off one more

time, tucked it in his pocket, and wiped his sleeve

across his forehead. The heat in the tiny room was

stifling.

Beyond the locked door, there was a distant

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DOCTOR WHO

howl. All three looked anxiously as the candle's

flame flickered wildly and almost went out. Amy

shuddered.

'That'll be the Regulator,' the Doctor said.

The candle steadied itself. Silence fell again, taut

and restless.

Rory cleared his throat. 'You know, there's still a

chance that Hilthe will come and get us,' he said

diffidently. 'I'm sure she will.'

Enraged, Amy leaned past the Doctor to shout at

him. 'Will you stop going on about Hilthe! Hilthe is

about as likely to get us out of here as the sonic

screwdriver! What is wrong with you?'

'Mind-controlling metal,' mumbled the Doctor

from between them.

'Did you listen to anything I said to you not five

minutes ago?' Amy shouted over him. 'Hilthe turned

me over to Beol's men!'

Rory raised his hands to placate her. 'I'm sure it

was a misunderstanding.'

'I jumped off a roof! I landed in a tree!' Amy

brandished her arm at him, scratch and all. 'There's

going to be bruises. I'm going to be purple. At my

wedding!'

'I still think it might simply have been a

misunderstanding!'

'Oh, so the two armed guards who chased me

over a roof and then dragged me through the

156

THE KING’S DRAGON

streets and down into this dungeon were simply

misunderstood? I'm glad we've cleared that one

up! I feel much better disposed towards them

now I know they were just misunderstood!' Amy

glared at the tile rolling around in Rory's fingers.

'Anyway, it's not Hilthe you're really thinking

about, it's the Herald.'

A deep crimson blush spread slowly across

Rory's face. The Doctor slid out of the way and

went elsewhere, not an easy task in so small a

room but one to which he applied himself fully.

'That's not true,' Rory lied unconvincingly.

'What is it with you and Golden Girls at the

moment anyway?' Amy said. 'First it's the Old

Woman of Geath, next it's a gazillion-year-old

being of light.'

'You're just jealous!'

'Jealous? How did you work that one out?'

'That you didn't see the Herald first!'

'As if I care two hoots about an addle-brained

over-lit—'

'Anyway, what about you, Amy Pond!'

' — Christmas tree decoration! What about

me?'

'You and the Ancient Mariner over there! Nine

hundred years old, Amy! Nine hundred!'

They were nose-to-nose, staring at each other as

if they were complete strangers. Amy felt more

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DOCTOR WHO

alone than ever - and it was worse because Rory

was there and she shouldn't feel this way if Rory

was there. Should she?

'Addle-brained?' Rory said.

'The Ancient Mariner?' Amy countered.

Rory blushed again. 'Yes! All right! That was

rubbish. Sorry. Best I could manage.'

Amy began to giggle. Rory rested his cheek

briefly against hers. He reached down to take her

hand and put his other arm around her shoulder.

Amy tucked herself into the space and turned to

look at him. Rory leaned down to kiss her.

They did that for a while.

'Sorry.'

'Me too.'

'Love you.'

'Love you too.'

'Hate this Enamour stuff.'

'Hate it too.'

They went back to kissing and when they were

happy again, Amy rested her head on Rory's

shoulder and they leaned back together against

the stone wall. 'Doctor,' Amy called. 'You can come

out now.'

The Doctor, who had been standing with his

back to them and his ear pressed against the door,

turned round. Amy and Rory held hands and

smiled at him.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

'Do you have a plan yet?' Amy asked nicely.

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets. 'I do, in

fact, have a plan.'

'Then let's hear the plan.'

'My plan is to wait for whoever is now scratching at

the keyhole to let us out.'

Amy and Rory looked over at the door. He was

right - there was somebody out there, scrabbling

away. Amy squeezed Rory's hand. 'It might be

Hilthe.'

Rory kissed the top of her head. 'Doubt it.'

The door opened slowly to reveal the Teller,

bent over the keyhole. He looked up at the Doctor.

'Help,' he said.

The Doctor smiled down at him benignly. He

pulled the dungeon door wide open and threw his

arm out expansively. 'Step into my office.'

'Beol's very brave,' said the Teller, 'but he's going to get himself killed. I don't want him to get killed.'

'Of course not,' said the Doctor. 'Who wants to

see their baby brother turned into a crisp by a

massive dragon?'

The Teller blinked at him. 'Yes. Quite.'

'So you thought you'd come to me. Very

sensible. Best decision you've made all day. Best

decision you've made all year.'

'Well, and because of what your friend did

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DOCTOR WHO

earlier.' The Teller nodded towards Amy. 'In the

plaza,' he said to her, 'you put yourself in harm's

way for me. You didn't have to do that.'

Amy shrugged. 'I think you've been an idiot,

but I didn't think you deserved to be pounded to a

pulp.'

'Thank you,' said the Teller fervently.

The Doctor smiled. 'Good work, Pond.'

'All part of the service, Doc. Urn, Doctor.'

'So you decided you could trust us, after all?'

the Doctor said to the Teller.

'I need you to help me explain to Beol what's

going on, in a way that he'll understand. He's

convinced this attack is corning from Dant. I think

he's planning to declare war on them.'

'I doubt he'll get the chance,' the Doctor said

drily.

'Well, exactly! All that I saw earlier, the dragon

scale, the flying machines...' The Teller lowered

his voice. 'I know this must sound like nonsense,

but...' He took a deep steadying breath, and then

committed himself. 'I think they've come from

another world. I know... I know... I'm crazy, that's

what everybody says, always have, but...' He held

his hands up helplessly. 'What else can it be!'

The Doctor merely smiled. 'So where did you

find the dragon, then? Not in Dant, that's for

sure.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Teller snorted. 'Of course we didn't find it in

Dant. Or Sheal, for that matter. We found it in a field

up in the high country west of Jutt. Not too many

people up there. Must have been there for ages. Beol

saw something glittering and we thought it might be

jewellery, something we could sell. So we got

digging. Surprised when it turned out to be that

dragon, I can tell you. I didn't recognise the metal,

so I guessed it was probably rare and, if that was the

case, it would be valuable. I was going to break it up,

sell it off in bits and pieces. But the first time I did it I realised it was having an odd effect. I had a tiny

piece in my pocket one night. Someone called out for

a story and I started telling one about a dragon.

What else? Nobody ever wants to hear about

dragons. But that story - oh, they couldn't get

enough of it! I earned more that night than I had

done since we left home. Making money from

storytelling?' He gave a hollow laugh. 'Oh yes, there

had to be something not right about that dragon!'

'And as soon as you realised that, you decided to

come to Geath.' The Doctor gave him a canny look.

'Why Geath, of all places?'

'Ah.' The Teller raised an eyebrow. 'Now that is a

much longer story.'

'Good story?'

'Of course.'

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DOCTOR WHO

'Ooh. I like a good story.' The Doctor sat back

down on the pallet and crossed his legs. 'Go on,

then.'

The Teller gave him an anxious look. 'Are you

sure you want to hear?'

The Doctor gestured around the room. 'Captive

audience.'

A Much More Likely Story

'I put it to you,' said the Teller, sitting down on the

floor in front of them, 'that city-state republicanism is a fine and admirable thing — provided you have the

good fortune to be born in one of the cities.

However,' he held up a finger, 'should you have

the bad luck to be born out in the country, life is

not nearly so good. That's where Beol and I come

from — up the river, the far end of the Vale of

Evesh. Nice country. Excellent fishing. Very fertile all round, in fact. That's important. Because the

problem with these great cities,' the Teller wagged his

finger for emphasis, 'is that while they're very busy

doing politics and making art, they're not

producing much in the way of food. Difficult to

grow crops in the middle of all this stone. But,

given that their citizens get as hungry as anyone

else, the cities need to own big pieces of land, and

they need to have people working hard on that

land while they're off busy—' He pointed towards

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THE KING’S DRAGON

his audience. 'What are they busy doing?'

'Doing politics and making art!' his audience

chorused back at him.

'Well done! Quite. So most of their politics is

concerned with these big pieces of land. And most of

what goes on between the cities is passing the bits

of land around. Like a big game. Only it's not as

much fun for the people who are living on that land.

They find themselves passed back and forth in

treaties like so much loose change. Now, this is

precisely what happened in our part of the vale a

few years ago. The city of Sheal, our previous

owners, blew the latest round of trade negotiations

with the city of Geath, and as a result they ended

up having to sell off part of their holdings along

the Evesh to them at a vastly reduced price. When

the land gets sold, the people get sold along with

it.' He gave a wry smile. 'It doesn't make much

difference most of the time, not really, because on

the whole you only ever see city folk when they're

there to hand over the deeds to the new owners,

and the rest of the time you're still farming the

land in exactly the same way... Only this time, it

didn't work out that way. This time, the borders

changed, and our farm got split down the middle.

Well, we weren't too pleased about that, for

various reasons to do with tedious technicalities

like no longer being able to use the services of the

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blacksmith over the bridge and having to go miles

upriver instead...'

'Bureaucrats,' muttered the Doctor darkly.

'Quite. So we decided to make our opinion

known.' The Teller frowned. 'Now over the years

I've found that my little brother Beol comes in

handy in those sorts of situations. I stand him next

to me while I'm talking, and people are usually too

busy worrying about him to do anything but agree

with what I'm saying. This time, however, the

citizens of Geath had rightly predicted that there

might be some trouble. So they sent a few big

strong boys along with their administrator.

'Now,' the Teller looked at the Doctor. 'Nobody

wants to see their baby brother turned to a crisp by

a giant dragon.' He glanced at Amy. 'Neither do

they much like seeing him pounded to a pulp by

goons. When he could stand up again, I decided that we weren't going to be passed around ever again

and that we were going to find a better way of life.

So off we went. After half a year wandering around

and not eating very much, the dragon turned up.

When it turned out to be so useful, I decided it was

time to pay a visit to Geath.' He frowned down at

the ground. 'Sheal was next on my list.'

Amy bit her lip and glanced over at the Doctor. He

was leaning back against the wall and his face

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THE KING’S DRAGON

was in shadow. Quietly, he said, 'It's all true, you

know.'

The Teller looked up. 'What's true?'

'Other worlds. Other beings. Travel between the

stars. Universal suffrage. All true.' The Doctor leaned

forwards. He was smiling. 'Just thought I'd mention

it.'

The Teller closed his eyes. A slow smile — of

pleasure and delight — crossed his face. Amy could

see clearly the dreamer he must once have been,

and probably still was at heart.

After a moment, the Teller opened his eyes,

rubbed them, and cleared his throat. 'Well. Of

course, that means for certain that Beol can't defeat

these star-dragons by strapping on his armour and

waving his sword at them. Not that he listens to

me any more.'

'He's started to believe his own publicity,' Amy

said. 'The townsfolk aren't helping. You've done

too good a job.'

'If you have any suggestions,' the Teller said

drily, 'I'm ready to hear.'

'Suggestions?' said the Doctor. 'I'm full of

suggestions. Bubbling over with them.' He jumped to

his feet. 'Now that the locked door is no longer an

issue, for which my grateful thanks, I think we have

three main problems. Firstly, we are caught in the

middle of an ancient interplanetary civil war

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DOCTOR WHO

between deadly enemies equipped with equally

deadly weapons. Secondly, we have an as yet

undetermined amount of time to collect up every

single piece of Enamour currently lying around the

city of Geath. Thirdly,' he took a breath, 'if Beol by some miracle does manage to fend off both the Herald

and the Regulator, he will start a war with Dant and

the three of us could well be executed as spies.'

'Don't worry about that one, Doctor,' the Teller

said. He was clearly starting to enjoy himself. 'I'll

put in a good word for you.'

'For that, amongst other reasons, I am indeed

not going to worry about our third problem - well,

not until tomorrow morning at least. But! There's a

long way yet till morning! And in the meantime,

bearing in mind our most pressing problems, I

suggest we do the following. Firstly, we make a

start on gathering up the metal.' He pointed at

Rory and the Teller. 'That'll be your job.'

'What will we be up to, Doctor?' Amy said. The

Doctor folded his arms. 'I'm going to get that

dragon if it's the last thing I do.'

Rory covered his face. 'You mustn't say things

like that! Not out loud!'

'Doctor,' said the Teller slowly, the magnitude of

his task beginning to dawn on him, 'the whole city

is covered in Enamour. How can we possibly

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THE KING’S DRAGON

collect it all? We can't knock on every single door in

Geath. The Regulator won't have given us that much

time, surely?'

'I have an idea about that,' said the Doctor.

'Well, it was Hilthe's idea, really. She set me

thinking. She was on the right lines when she said

that we could use the Feond technology in some

way. Where she got it wrong was in wanting to

make weapons. We'll never win that way — not

least because I suspect both sides would incinerate us

at the first sign of trouble. Besides, that's not what

Enamour is good at. And it's not all that we found

when

the

dragon

opened

up.'

He

started

rummaging around in his pocket. 'You're right —

you can't knock on every door in Geath. However

long we've got, I doubt it's long enough to do that.

But there's something else that we can try. Where is

that thing...? Ah, here it is!'

He pulled out the impossibly tiny satellite dish.

'While you were chasing around town, Amy, Rory

and I took in a movie.'

'Oh, very nice.'

'You wouldn't have liked it. Things exploding.

People dying. Depressing.' He looked down at the

dish, which he was cradling lovingly in his cupped

hands. A green light was flashing on the side. 'I

used this as a projector. But it isn't just a projector, it can also work as a transmitter.' The Doctor pressed

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a button. The green light went off and a red one

came on. 'If I set this up correctly, the metal should act as a receiver, for whatever we transmit. There's

Enamour in every single home around the city by

now. What you need to do,' the Doctor nodded at

the Teller, 'is to tell people to bring whatever they

have out to the main plaza. Amy and I will go and get

the dragon and when the Regulator comes to collect,

all of the Enamour will be out in the open, ready and

waiting for them... If I decide that they've earned

it.'

The Doctor looked round, expecting applause

and finding only bafflement. 'It's perfectly simple!

You've no imagination! All right, let's show not

tell... Amy, pass me that hideous brooch you seem to

be wearing all of a sudden.'

'What?' Amy looked down at her shirt. 'Oh! Yes!'

She unpinned the brooch (it truly was hideous,

what had she been thinking?) and handed it over.

The Doctor placed the brooch on the far side of

the pallet. 'Keep watching that.'

He pointed the satellite dish at Amy and played

with the controls. A tiny, crackly image of Amy

appeared above the brooch.

Amy began to laugh. 'Help me, Obi-Wan!' she

cried. 'Oh, I've always wanted an excuse to say

that.'

'How can we be sure people will hand the stuff

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THE KING’S DRAGON

over?' Rory said. 'Doesn't it make them want to

keep it?'

The Doctor turned earnestly to the Teller. 'This is

where you come in. I need you to talk. Talk like

you've never done before. You're going to tell the

best story you've ever told, the story of your life.

Tell people they have to give up the metal. Tell them

why. Get them to bring it out.' Seeing the Teller's

doubtful expression, he said, more urgently, 'I

know you can do it. You're a natural. You turned

your little brother from a serf into a king!'

The Teller shook his head. 'Doctor, we both

know it was the dragon that did that.'

'No, you did it. All your idea. All your words. I heard you in the council hall! You were magnificent.

And it's exactly like I told you - all that Enamour

did was to amplify your voice so that people

couldn't help listening.' He held the dish out. 'This

will make your voice stronger than ever before.

And what you'll be telling is a better story than

any you've told before. Because it's going to save

the lives of every single person in this city.'

The Teller stared at the satellite dish. 'Let me see if

I understand what you mean. You want me to speak

to the people of Geath and explain that they must

surrender the metal at once. That they should bring it

to the grand plaza in front of the council chamber.

You want me to impress upon them the

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DOCTOR WHO

urgency of this and the terrible danger they will

face if they do not comply. And, somehow, this

tiny metal bowl will be able to take my words and

the images I conjure up with them, and place them

into every single house in the city of Geath.'

The Doctor gave him an appreciative look.

'You and Hilthe! You pick this stuff up so fast! I'm

impressed! Yes, that's exactly what I mean.' He

placed the dish with ceremonial care into the Teller's

hand. 'Take care of it.'

Amy, who had been staring at her own image,

turned to the Doctor. 'Television. You're going to

save the world through television.'

The Doctor grinned at her. 'How else?'

'Doctor, you're brilliant! It'll never work.'

The Doctor put a hand over a heart. 'I swear it

will be a ratings triumph.'

As if it could not bear to hear any more, the

candle went out. Only the red button on the

satellite dish remained alight, flashing away like a

warning sign.

'Telly-what?' said the Teller; a lost, bewildered

voice in the darkness.

170

Chapter

10

Outside their cell, the corridor was empty. One

torch burned dimly.

'I sent the guards out to help with the defence of

the city,' the Teller said.

'Good thinking,' said the Doctor. 'An instinctive

revolutionary. Why you got mixed up in king-

making I'll never know.'

The Teller led the three travellers quickly and

quietly back up into the main levels. They came to a

point where the corridor branched and the Teller

pointed to the right-hand passage. 'That way leads

back to the council hall if you're serious about

stealing the dragon.'

'Not stealing,' said the Doctor primly. 'Saving

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Geath from itself.'

'Semantics,' coughed Rory under his breath.

The Doctor pointed in the other direction. 'Don't

you have a live broadcast to make?'

Rory turned to Amy. 'No unnecessary risks,

OK?'

'You know me!'

'Yes. That's what I mean. That's exactly what I

mean.'

'Don't worry, I can take care of myself!' Amy

said.

'Hmm.' Rory kissed her on the cheek. The Teller

was plucking at his sleeve and giving him an

assortment of impatient glances. Rory squeezed

Amy's hand and followed the Teller down the left-

hand passage. When he looked back, Amy and the

Doctor were already lost to the shadows.

Rory and the Teller went along dark passages

empty even of Enamour, heading steadily

upwards. They came out, in time, on the far side of

the main plaza.

Rory glanced back down at the council building.

'How long exactly have you been in Geath? Didn't

take you long to map out all the secret passages,

did it?'

'They're access tunnels for messengers,' the

Teller explained. 'A quick way in and out of the

hall. Very useful. And,' he admitted, 'at the back of

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THE KING’S DRAGON

my mind, there was always the fear that we would

find ourselves driven out of town.' He led Rory up a

stone staircase. 'How about here? Will this do?'

Rory looked back down into the plaza. Yes, it

was a good spot. They would see very quickly

whether or not they were having any success.

'Great! Perfect!'

'So what do we do now?'

Rory placed the satellite dish carefully down on

the flagstones.

The Teller tapped it doubtfully with his toe. 'It's

so small. Are you sure this is going to work?'

Rory, who was deeply unconvinced, said, 'Oh,

the Doctor's a genius! His plans always work.'

'Hmm,' said the Teller.

Rory pointed the dish at him and operated the

controls in the sequence the Doctor had shown

him. He looked at the wall near the Teller, where a

panel of beaten Enamour would, he hoped, act

as a monitor. A fuzzy image of the Teller's face

appeared on the flat surface. Rory laughed. 'Blimey!

It does work!'

The Teller stared at himself and touched his

cheek. `Do I really look like that?' he said in horror.

'Camera adds a few pounds.'

'And everyone in Geath can see me?'

'I hope so. Don't worry! You look fine!' Rory

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turned a dial and focused in on the Teller's face.

'Come on! On with the telling!'

The Teller gaped like a fish. 'What do I say?'

'Try "bring out your Enamour". Only, you

know, say it properly. Go on! Go for it!'

'Everyone in Geath?'

'Absolutely everyone,' Rory said cheerfully.

The Teller blanched. 'People of Geath,' he

whispered.

'Bit louder. I know — pretend it's only me. Talk to

me.'

'People of Geath,' the Teller said, more loudly

this time, although somewhat hoarsely. Rory put

his thumb up in encouragement and the Teller

took heart. 'People of Geath. Like me, you have

seen remarkable events unfold this evening. Like

me, you must have wondered where these great

flying creatures come from and why they wish us

harm. And in your hearts, like me, you must know

the answer already.' The Teller clasped his hands

together and leaned forwards, becoming more

confident as the urgency of his message surpassed

his nerves. 'You know how this trouble has arisen.

The riches that we have all enjoyed belong to

others. Now they have come to claim it back. So we

must return it. We are not thieves! We must give

back to these visitors what is rightfully theirs.

Whatever you have — bring it to the grand plaza.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Teller held up his left hand. One by one, he

took off the array of rings. 'We all must make this

sacrifice,' he said. 'I shall be first. Please! Follow

my lead! Bring all that you have to the grand

plaza.' He held out his palm, showing the rings

lying there. 'Bring it quickly!'

Rory nodded enthusiastically. He glanced down

towards the plaza. There wasn't much movement

there yet, but he supposed they hadn't been going

for long and perhaps it was taking people some

time to get used to the idea of a pocket-sized Teller

talking to them in their own homes. 'Keep going!'

Rory mouthed. 'You're doing great!'

The Teller had barely started to repeat his

message before they heard the drone of engines

across the valley. He pointed at the sky. 'The star-

dragons! They're returning!'

Rory looked up. Two distant specks of light

shone above Geath. As he watched, they began

their approach. They hurtled like lightning along

the valley and across the city at such close range

that Rory ducked instinctively as they passed

directly overhead. 'Wow!' Dragons or dragon-

ships - both were awesome, both were terrifying.

'Come on!' he yelled to the Teller over the roar.

'We've got to keep going!'

The Teller made his broadcast again and, to

Rory's relief, he saw the first signs that they were

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DOCTOR WHO

being heard and understood. A dozen or so people

ran into the plaza, dumped armfuls of Enamour

near the steps of the council chamber, and then ran off

again - Rory hoped - to collect more.

'We should show them you mean it,' Rory

called to the Teller, pointing down at the collection of rings.

They ran down into the plaza and the Teller

threw his rings onto the pile of goods accumulating

there. 'See!' he cried. 'All of us! We all have to do

this!'

As he spoke, an inhuman howl rose up, like

metal scraping across the soul. A dark figure took

shape at the far side of the plaza. The Teller turned

frantically to the transmitter. 'Please!' he begged

the people of Geath. 'You've got to listen! You've

got to do what I ask! We don't have much time!

Bring out the metal!'

Rory turned the dish towards the Regulator.

Perhaps if people saw it, even indirectly, they

would grasp that it wasn't made up, the Geathian

equivalent of an urban myth. The Regulator shot up

until it towered over the council building,

blotting out the gold haze rising from the

dome. Rory trembled under the influence of the

emotional amplifiers. The dish shook in his hands.

The image of the Regulator wavered in and out,

but its demands boomed out across the valley and

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THE KING’S DRAGON

directly into every home in Geath.

'I represent the Regulatory Board. Under Clause

9.4b (subsection 12.2) of the Regulation of Psycho-

Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26) all parties

here assembled must hand over any substances

covered by said Act. Under powers granted to the

Regulatory Board by the Regulation of Psycho-

Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26), reasonable

force can be used to secure all substances covered

by said Act.'

'Do what it says!' The Teller's shout was barely

audible over the Regulator's wail. 'Bring it out!

Bring it out!'

But the plaza was empty. Everyone had fled

before the Regulator and nobody dared to come

and confront it. Except one man.

Beol rode out. His armour flamed gloriously in

the darkness, unaffected by the Regulator's power.

He galloped across the plaza until he was face to

face with his enemy. He reined his horse back,

stood up in his stirrups, and lifted his sword.

'Be gone, foul monster!' he cried. 'Leave my city in

peace!'

'Oh, Beol,' his brother whispered. 'Don't get

yourself killed now.'

The Regulator bore down on the King.

'Surrender the Enamour!' it bellowed.

'Never!' cried the King. He brandished his

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DOCTOR WHO

sword, spurred on his horse, and galloped headlong at

the Regulator. Rory, still trembling in fear and

excitement, held up the satellite dish and captured

the moment, showing it to the whole of Geath.

The King rode straight through the Regulator. It

flickered wildly and then disappeared. Beol,

turning for a second pass, saw his victory and

threw his sword up into the air. He caught it with

ease.

The people of Geath flooded into the plaza. A

chant rose up: Beol! Beol! Beol! Even Rory, knowing it was a projection, almost cheered along with them.

Then he saw the Teller's face.

'What did you do that for? They'll never listen to

me now!'

Rory frowned and scratched his head. 'What are

we going to do?'

Amy and the Doctor stopped outside the side

entrance leading onto the arcade. The Doctor

opened the door a crack and they both peered

inside. The dragon slumbered in the centre of the

hall. 'Right,' whispered the Doctor. 'What do you

want to do?'

'Why are you asking me?'

'You're the one that kept talking about heists.'

'Doctor!'

However, Amy didn't get to speak her mind.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Doctor grabbed her arm and pointed at the

dragon. On its Enamoured flank, a face was coming

into focus. Rory's face, somewhat larger than life.

'I know he's my boyfriend and all,' whispered

Amy, 'but that's scary.'

'Doctor!' Rory's voice boomed out around the

hall. 'Are you there? We've got a problem!'

The Doctor put his hand to his forehead.

'Secretly steal the dragon, is what I said. Which part of "secretly" is so difficult to understand?'

'Is it working?' asked the Teller.

Rory stared unhappily down at the satellite

dish. 'I have absolutely no idea.'

'I know I'm not an expert,' the Teller said,

hesitantly, 'but how can he reply? Does he have

one of the bowls too?'

Rory sighed, bent down, and picked up the

dish. 'No.'

'So what now? We've got to keep them bringing out

the metal.'

Rory pocketed the dish. 'What we need is

someone that's at least as good as you at getting

people to do what they want. Seems obvious to me. We

need Hilthe.' He caught the Teller's expression. 'Oh,

don't you start!'

'I feel I should I point out,' the Teller said silkily,

'that I easily defeated Hilthe in the last election.'

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'True, but then she's not the one that's caused

two massive dragon-ships to come screaming over

the city and raining fire down on it. I think her

stock might be up.'

The Teller stopped complaining, but he hardly

looked happy.

'Come on,' Rory said. 'Hilthe-wards.'

'What shall we do?' Amy whispered. The

huge image of Rory's face flickered and then

disappeared.

'We'll sneak over to the dragon,' the Doctor

whispered back. 'Open it up. See if there's another

dish. He has to go and talk to Hilthe. Get her to

help.'

'Oh, he'll like hearing you say that! All right,

lead on.'

They came out of the cover of the arcade and

tiptoed towards the dragon.

'Halt! You're under arrest!'

Four of Beol's knights stepped out of the

shadows, short swords drawn, and advanced on

them. The Doctor ran, weaving around the

columns of the arcade. Amy dived in the other

direction, drawing away two of their pursuers.

'I have to talk to Beol!' shouted the Doctor as he

helter-skeltered round a pillar. 'He has to listen!

Why won't any of you listen? Is it the jacket? The

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THE KING’S DRAGON

mud's your fault! You should pave your roads! Is it

the bow tie? Is it the face? How many times do I have to say it? Appearances can be deceptive! I'm nine

hundred years old, you know!'

Rushing past the main doors to the hall, the

Doctor crashed straight into Beol, on his way in.

'There you are! About time!' He smoothed down

his jacket and straightened his bow tie. 'What

does a man have to do to get an audience around

here?'

Beol seized the Doctor's arms, spun him

round, and pinned him up against the wall of the

chamber.

'You have to listen!' said the Doctor, voice

somewhat muffled now that his face was pressed up

against gilded stone.

Amy, at bay behind the dragon with two knights

advancing on her, yelled at Beol, 'Stop being such a

cloth-headed stupid lump of muscle and let the man

speak to you!'

Beol looked at her with a rather hurt expression

and then, suddenly, his face changed.

'What?' Amy said. 'What is it? Why are you

looking at me like that?'

'Amy!' cried the Doctor, trying to release himself

from Beol's grasp.

Amy looked down at her hands. Gold light was

transforming the flesh on them, turning them

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DOCTOR WHO

translucent.

The Herald was coming — only this time she

had not waited to be summoned.

In sheer fury, the Doctor wrested himself free of

Beol's hold. He ran across the council hall, but

could not get close enough to the Herald to try to

pull Amy back. Besides, it was already too late.

Amy was enveloped in golden light. A strident

harmony was building up, echoing off all the

metal in the hall.

Beol ran over to the Doctor. 'What's happening?' he

shouted.

The Doctor ignored him. 'Let her go!' he yelled at

the Herald. 'This is a crime, a terrible crime! You don't have her permission! Get out of her body!'

The Herald turned to face him, white light

flashing from Amy's eyes. 'We have waited long

enough,' she said, her voice harsh and belligerent, a

terrible distortion of Amy's. 'Surrender the

Enamour or we will destroy you. We will destroy

this world.'

Beol grabbed the Doctor's arm. 'What's

happening? What has happened to your friend?

What is this apparition?'

The Doctor swung round to face him. 'This is

your enemy!' he shouted at the young man and

pointed at the Herald. 'Not Dant, not Sheal! This!

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The enemy of us all! A power that uses other people as

a means to her own ends! A mind that can only think

of others as tools, as possessions!'

'I know that enemy,' Beol said simply. 'What

must I do to defeat it?'

The Doctor did not reply. Digging into his

pocket, he pulled out another device taken from

the dragon earlier. It was a small black box. He

dived forwards to set it on the floor a few metres

away from the Herald and aimed it towards her.

'What are you doing?' said Beol. 'What is that?'

'This will defeat her,' the Doctor said, quietly,

fiercely. 'It's done it at least once already.'

A low howl rose up from the box.

Beol started. 'I have heard this sound before

many times.'

'Watch,' said the Doctor.

In bare seconds, a dark shape appeared and

began to rise up, hands outstretched for the

Herald.

Beol, horrified, turned to the Doctor. 'But this is

the beast I defeated only moments ago!'

The howling got steadily louder, the scream of an

angry, wounded animal. The King pressed his hands

against his ears.

'Defeated it?' The Doctor laughed hollowly. 'It

was an illusion, Beol! They can make as many of

these as they want. They'll keep sending them

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down here to scream at you until you beg them to

take their dragon back. But they'll set the city on

fire first!' He had to shout to be heard over the

cacophony, the discord between the Herald's martial

music and the shriek of the Regulator that he was

creating. 'Your victory was an illusion, Beol! You

were never in danger!' The Doctor bent down over the

controls, directing his Regulator to begin its assault

on the Herald.

The Herald reacted violently. She raised Amy's

hands and sent waves of the golden rings of light

out across the hall. They struck the two knights

closest to her and sent them flying. They crashed

against the big stone columns and fell to the

ground, bodies crumpling as if they were nothing

more than dolls thrown away by a spoiled child in

a fit of pitiless pique. Beol ran to them, but the

Herald, catching his movement, turned her wrath

towards him. She lifted Amy's hand and prepared to

send out another bolt of deadly light. Only the

Doctor, turning the Regulator upon her, prevented

Beol from being killed. The King took cover behind

one of the columns. The Doctor turned back to the

Herald and pressed his assault.

Trapped within the Herald's sphere of influence,

Amy knew from the moment that the Doctor put

the box on the ground that his projection would

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THE KING’S DRAGON

only make matters worse for her. Close now to the

Herald's mind, closer than she ever wanted to be,

she knew that the presence of the Doctor's Regulator

served chiefly to enrage her. The Herald, Amy knew,

would never let her go as long as the Doctor

threatened her, and perhaps not even then.

Tears rolled down Amy's cheeks as the alien

used her hands to deliver the lethal blow that

blasted Beol's knights across the hall. 'Switch it off!'

she whispered, but her voice was overwhelmed by

the Herald's cruel song.

The Herald turned towards Beol, lifting Amy's

hand against him, but the Doctor's Regulator

pushed her back. The Herald recoiled and cried

out in thwarted agony. Amy seized her chance.

Summoning every ounce of her will, she screamed at

the Doctor, 'Switch it off! Switch it off! It hurts!'

The Doctor heard. He gave Amy an anguished

look, then grabbed the black box and thumped it.

His Regulator subsided and disappeared.

But the Herald was not going to let Amy's act of

defiance go unpunished. She turned all of her will

and her fury inwards, battering against Amy's

defences, her sense of self. Now Amy felt the

impact of the emotional amplifiers in the hands of

an expert, manipulated by someone who knew

exactly how to wield this technology. This was their

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full power, not the haphazard and accidental effects

achieved by the Teller, and aimed at stimulating a

terror vaster and more consuming than anything

even the Regulator had tried to produce.

All the uncertainty and apprehension that

Amy had experienced since arriving in Geath, all

the fear and loneliness she had tried to battle,

surged through her, magnified a thousand-fold. All

her sadnesses were amplified and turned into the

theme of the Herald's song. The delights were

drowned out; the sweet moments of joy that not

only make life bearable but make it everything that

it is. The Herald sang over them until only the sorrow

remained.

Amy's knees buckled; her soul buckled. This, she

understood now, was how the Bright Nobles created

their empire and kept their age-long rule intact.

They had done it through fear, through separation,

trapping their subjects in the isolation of a gilded

changeless hell. Amy felt herself sliding into that

chasm, horrified and enthralled in equal measure,

unable to stop herself and uncertain that she even

wanted to.

Faintly, through the Herald's empty and

encroaching music, Amy heard the Doctor. 'Fight it,

Amy! Fight it!' But his cry grew more distant and

his voice became that of a stranger, someone she

had never really known. She was 7 years old

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THE KING’S DRAGON

again, waiting for the man who had said he would

come back and take her away, the little girl lost,

sitting in the garden waiting for a knight in shining

armour who had not returned. Amy pictured

herself standing on the edge of oblivion and there

was nobody to help her.

Only herself. 'I'm not afraid of you,' Amy told

the seductive void opening within her. 'I'm not

yours. I'm me. I'm Amy. And I'm not alone!' She

clenched her hands; hers, under her control. 'So

you'd better stop using my body before I really lose my temper!'

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11

There was a blinding flash. The rings of light engulfing Amy pulsed outwards. She convulsed under the

recoil and the Herald's grip on her slackened. It

felt to Amy as if iron bands that had been slowly

tightening around her chest - choking her breath,

choking her self - suddenly slackened. Keeping this

picture in her mind, Amy imagined herself gripping

hold of the bands, pulling them apart, throwing

them away. The chasm that, only moments before

seemed to be opening ineluctably before her, started

to recede, like a bad dream shaken off by the

coming of morning.

But the Herald would not give up easily. She

made a last grab for control of Amy - to seize her,

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if she could not persuade her — amplifying the

harmonies until the hall itself throbbed with the

noise. Amy sang back, random snippets of songs,

anything that came to mind. With one last effort,

and a rousing rendition of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little

Star', Amy released herself. She pushed the Herald

back for good — away, and out of her mind. The

gold light shot upwards, coalescing in a ball high

above. The Herald screamed in fury and outrage;

sheer white noise that cracked the dome. Then she

was gone.

'Ta-da!' Amy said, and fell to her knees.

She put her hands out to stop herself falling on

her face. The Doctor and the King ran to help her.

Amy stretched out her arms and let them lift her

back to her feet.

Beol bent over to kiss her hand. 'You are a lady of

great courage.'

'I'm not any kind of a lady. But if you do that

smile again, I'll forgive you.'

Beol obliged.

Amy wrinkled her nose at him. 'So cute! I'd

vote for you.'

The King placed his hand upon his chest and

bowed to her. Then he went to see to his knights.

The Doctor pulled her into a hug. 'I'm impressed,

Pond. You're impressive.'

'I know.' She smiled at him. He smiled back. He

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THE KING’S DRAGON

had come back, she thought - just later than he'd said. Still a mistake, though, to sit around waiting

for the knight in shining armour. There was the

whole of her life to be led.

'What did you see?' the Doctor said softly. 'Can

you talk about it? What did she show you?'

'A bad place. The worst. A place where nothing

changed.' Amy shuddered. 'For thousands and

thousands of years, nothing changed. There was

Enamour everywhere. It was in the food you ate,

the water you drank, the air you breathed. It shaped

everything around you, totally. It slid into every

space. You were like a bird trapped in an oil slick.

Trapped in a beautiful golden oil slick.' Then there

had been the humming, the lulling... but behind

that, almost extinguished but still constant, the

whispering of fear... 'More than anything you wanted

to get away from it, but you didn't dare. Where

could you go? There was nowhere to go. You

couldn't make a move, you couldn't get out, you

couldn't save yourself... And - this was the worst

thing - part of you wanted to stay there. It wanted

what was on offer. Craved it. Not changing. Not

having to grow. Handing that over. It felt like security

- but it wasn't, not really. It was hell. A golden hell.'

Amy sighed. 'I didn't defeat her, did I? Not entirely.

She's coming back.'

'I'm afraid you're right.'

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'Then I suppose we'd better be ready for her.'

The Doctor nodded slowly. His put his hands in his

pockets and walked to the centre of the hall. He looked

up at the dome, where the Herald's light had

glowed moments before and where now only a long

crack zigzagged from one end of the dome to the

other.

Amy joined him. 'You feel sorry for her, don't

you?'

'Hmm?'

'The Herald. You feel sorry for her.'

'Hmm.'

'Why, Doctor? Why bother?'

'I suppose...' Still staring at the crack, the Doctor

screwed up his face. 'Because she's as trapped as

anyone else. She has her masters, after all, and

she's answerable to them. If she fails here in Geath,

what will happen to her?'

'She has a choice, too, Doctor. She could refuse to

obey her masters.'

'That's much easier said than done.'

'The Regulator's people did it. The Herald

doesn't have to obey these Bright Nobles, does

she? Not now. Not so long after the end of their

war.'

'The Bright Nobles.' The Doctor's face screwed up

in distaste at the name. 'Now, they're the real

villains of the piece, aren't they? I wonder how

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THE KING’S DRAGON

bright they really are, without Enamour. The

Herald may be a few rungs up the ladder from the

great mass of servants, but she's by no means at

the top.'

Amy thought about this. She thought about the

Herald's pitilessness, the casual cruelty with which

she had been seized and used. She thought about

the strident music and the dead sound of despair at

the heart of it. Was that also part of the Herald's song?

'You know,' Amy said slowly, 'I think those extra few

rungs make all the difference.'

Beol came back to join them.

'How are your two knights?' the Doctor asked.

'Dead,' Beol said grimly. 'Both dead. Their

bodies broken.'

'Still sorry, Doctor?' Amy murmured.

'Always sorry, Amy,' the Doctor replied. To Beol, he

said wearily, 'Are you going to listen now?'

'You have no need to speak. The metal must go.'

Beol glanced towards the heart of the chamber, at

the source of it all. 'The dragon, too. But not to the

Herald's people.'

'No, not there,' the Doctor agreed. 'To the

Regulator, then.'

'You're not with happy with that, are you,

Doctor?' Amy said.

The Doctor shook his head. 'Rory might have

been speaking under the influence of Enamour,

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DOCTOR WHO

but he was right when he pointed out that the

Regulator has threatened us. Handing it over feels

too much like being coerced.' His eyes flashed.

'And I don't like being coerced.'

'But it's the only option, isn't it?' Amy said.

'Unless you're planning to take it yourself.'

The Doctor glanced back over his shoulder at

the dragon.

'The howling creature has made its position

clear,' Beol said firmly. 'The dragon must be

delivered to it, or else Geath will suffer. We cannot

allow that.'

'Doctor,' Amy said, 'you might know as well as

the Regulator how to dispose of the stuff, but I don't

think that's the point.'

For a fraction of a second, the Doctor seemed to

be somewhere else, lost in contemplation. Then: `Nah.

You're right. Imagine it in the TARDIS. Doesn't

suit the new colour scheme, does it?' Shaking off

whatever vision had briefly entranced him, he

bounded off towards the doors. 'Come on! Time to

check on Operation Dis-Enamour.'

Rory looked up at Hilthe's back window with a

familiar sinking feeling. He clasped his hands

together and braced forwards. 'Step on here,' he

said to the Teller. 'I'll push you up then you can

reach down and pull me up.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

'Do you break and enter often?' the Teller asked in

a censorious voice.

'Do you overthrow legitimate governments and

install puppet rulers often?'

'Not under normal circumstances.'

'Well then. There's your answer. Alien invasion.

All bets are off. Besides, the window is open, so

technically it's not breaking and entering. Now

hurry up. I don't know how long we've got left but I'm

guessing it's not long. It'll be morning soon.'

The Teller made no further protest and stepped

onto Rory's hands. Rory pushed him through the

window, and then reached up so that he could

haul him inside.

'Where will she be?' whispered the Teller,

looking down a dark bare corridor.

Rory pointed ahead. 'Amy said there were some

stairs. They should be up there, on the right. They

lead down into a sitting room and chances are

Hilthe's not getting any sleep tonight. Plus we've got

an escape route back here. You know, in case.'

The Teller nodded in agreement and Rory led the

way down the corridor. They found the narrow flight of

stairs by which Amy had escaped earlier that night.

The doorway at the bottom of these was covered in a

curtain. Rory twitched it aside and looked into a

sitting room. It was the same one he had visited.

Was it only a few hours since he had

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DOCTOR WHO

sat here, drinking sweet tea with Hilthe, and got his

first sight of the Herald? He was sorry he had ever

set eyes on her.

Rory pulled back the curtain and quietly entered the

room with a degree of stealth that would have won

plaudits from the Doctor. Hilthe was sitting in one

of the chairs, eyes closed, apparently asleep. Rory

turned to the Teller, put his finger against his lips,

and then gestured to him to come in. The Teller

tiptoed across the room and stood in front of the

door.

'Now that my escape is blocked,' said Hilthe,

her eyes still closed, 'who will strike the killing

blow? Will it be you, Rory?'

'What?' Rory said, shocked. 'What do you think I

am?'

'A spy. An assassin.' Hilthe opened her eyes and

glanced over her shoulder at the Teller. 'I see now

that this plot has been a long time in the making.

But before you dispatch me, I would like to know

the price. How much were you paid by the people of

Dant?'

The Teller rolled his eyes.

'For heaven's sake!' Rory said. 'How many times do

we have to say this? We're not from Dant!'

Hilthe's eyes flashed. 'What other explanation

can there be?'

'Mother,' said the Teller, 'I beg you, for a moment,

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THE KING’S DRAGON

try to look beyond the petty concerns of the city-

states of the Evesh. I know they've kept you busy for

a lifetime, but they are trivial compared to the crisis

we face tonight.'

Hilthe glared back at him in loathing. The Teller

did not move from his position in front of the door. He

folded his arms and glared back.

'Urn, we were supposed to be winning her

over?' Rory said. 'Remember that bit? Getting her

on side?'

'I have no interest in winning this woman's

favour,' the Teller replied bluntly. 'She has done

nothing to make me want it.' He turned back to

Hilthe. 'You were right in your estimation of me,

Mother. I do hold this city in contempt. I came to

Geath to take revenge. And I've enjoyed every

moment. I've loved watching the people hang on

my every word. I've loved watching them want to

get close to me and to my brother. I've loved their

devotion and the knowledge that whenever I chose, I

could ruin them.'

'Will you shut up?' hissed Rory. 'We need her

help!'

'No, I won't shut up!' the Teller said. 'I won't be

quiet any longer! She's going to hear this! The Doctor

told me to talk like I've never talked before, to tell

the story of my life. Well, the story of my life is

that the council of this city - of which you

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DOCTOR WHO

were the leader, Hilthe! - broke up my home

and sent men to beat my friends and family into

submission!'

'So you are here to kill me,' said Hilthe. She

raised her chin defiantly. 'I'm not afraid. I would die for Geath.'

'Kill you?' The Teller came to stand very close to

her. 'It's what you expect from me, isn't it? You think

I'm good for nothing, don't you? A thug from up

the river. Not a soft-handed citizen like yourself.

And so I am. I'm country-bred and I'm proud of it.

But kill you? I've more on my mind tonight than you! I'm trying to save your city! I'm trying to set right a bad mistake. Where have you been tonight, Mother

Councillor? Sitting in here, clinging to the past—'

Hilthe sat bolt upright in her chair, proud and

angry. 'How dare you! A farmhand from the valleys!

What do you know of Geath's glorious past?'

'I know enough!' the Teller shot back. 'I know it's

not as glorious as you make out! And I dare

because it's true! You say you'd do anything for

Geath, but that's all talk! If you truly loved your

city and its people and its long history, you'd put

aside your pride and you'd come with us now, not

hide away in the moment of its greatest need. Die for

Geath? My brother is willing to die for Geath. My brother the King.'

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The Teller stopped speaking. He backed away

from Hilthe and went to lean back against the

door. He was trembling with emotion. Hilthe sat

with her hands folded before her and her head

bowed. Rory could not see how angry she was, but

perhaps there was something he could still say to

persuade her.

'Hilthe,' he began hesitantly. 'We really do need

your help. We're not spies, we're not enemies, and

we're trying to do the right thing. But we need

your help.'

'Please, Mother,' the Teller said. His tone was

much gentler. 'Let us set aside our differences.

The people of Geath have put themselves in our

hands. We have to do right by them. I know that

you believe I took your power unfairly—'

Hilthe winced.

'You're right,' the Teller went on. 'I did. And I'm

sorry. But we are in desperate straits and the people in our care need you. They need to hear your voice again.

Please, come and speak to them.'

Hilthe lifted her hand to stop him speaking. To

Rory, she said, 'Ten standard time units.'

Rory nodded.

'And we still don't know what one standard

time unit is?'

Rory shook his head.

'And you're not going to kill me?'

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Rory opened his mouth to protest, and then

caught the twinkle in Hilthe's eye. 'No,' he said.

'That definitely wasn't on the agenda.'

'Then I suppose we ought to hurry.' Hilthe rose

from her chair. She took a long look around the

room and then she strode towards the door. When

she reached the Teller, she stopped and looked him

up and down. A slow and not wholly grudging

smile crept across her lips. 'You do have a great

gift,' she said. 'I hope, when this is over, you'll put it to better use.'

'Second chances all round,' said the Teller. 'We

should each of us be grateful.' He opened the

door and stepped back so that Hilthe could sweep

through majestically ahead of him.

'Hurry up!' she called back to Rory and the

Teller from the corridor. 'No time to lose! Follow

me!'

On the way back to the plaza, Rory explained the

satellite dish to Hilthe and what he needed her to

do. She clearly didn't believe a word he was

saying, even when he demonstrated how the

transmitter worked and projected her image onto

the enamel of the steps, but she didn't raise any

objections. 'If you claim that this will work, I shall

take you at your word.' She contemplated her own

face. 'Strange metals, strange noises - and now

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THE KING’S DRAGON

strange devices. A very strange tale.' She twitched

her collar straight and smoothed down her cap of

silver hair. 'Shall we begin?'

Facing the dish, Hilthe gave a smile of great

beauty. 'My dear friends,' she said. 'It is a pleasure to be able to speak to you again, even in a time of such

suffering and confusion. You know what it is that I

must say to you. You know what has caused us

such grief. The metal, my dear friends. The metal.

And I am speaking to you now to ask you to give it

up. Dear friends, I know how hard this will be, but

it has to be done. Only then will Geath be restored to

itself. Only then will we be safe.'

As she spoke, Rory kept a close eye out for

activity below. As he watched, first one person,

then another, darted out, carrying an armful of

jewellery, or a pile of golden plates, dumping

them in front of the chamber and hurrying home to

collect more. Rory gestured with his thumb so that

Hilthe could see what was happening.

'Already I see that many of you are answering

my call!' Hilthe cried. 'My dear friends, I knew that I

was right to put my trust in you! Hurry, please! Bring

the metal to the grand plaza! Remember that the true

wealth of our city has never been in riches or display,

but in kindness, generosity and a desire to live a full

and varied life. A life that everyone in the city or

under her protection deserves.' She

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looked at the Teller as she said this, and rested her

hand briefly upon her chest, in a silent promise.

The Teller nodded to show that he had understood. 'So

let us give up this strange metal,' Hilthe went on.

'Geath does not need it! Let us restore our city to its

true self!'

Watching the steady trickle of people entering

the plaza, Rory felt for the first time optimistic

about their chances of success.

The Teller gave him a hopeful smile. 'I think it's

working,' he whispered.

'She's a natural politician,' Rory said. 'Knows

how to get people to hand over their money.' He

played with some of the controls on the satellite

dish, and found some of the images of the war that

the Doctor had shown him.

'See what happens when this metal is allowed to

cover everything around it,' Hilthe said. 'Dear

friends, I do not mean to frighten you, but I cannot

hide the truth from you.'

Watching the grand plaza so closely, Rory saw

Amy and the Doctor the second they emerged from

the council chamber. Leaving the satellite dish and

Hilthe under the Teller's direction, he ran down

the steps and over to Amy. Before he reached her,

Rory knew what had happened. There was the

same aura, the same faint pearlescent after-image

that had surrounded Hilthe after the Herald spoke

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through her. They reached each other and hugged.

'Are you all right?' Rory said. 'What happened?'

'Amy beat the bad guy!' the Doctor carolled.

'I thought there weren't any bad guys?'

'Did I say that, Rory? I did? Well, this time

there is! And when I say "Amy beat the bad guy", what I mean is "she fended it off for the moment".

The Herald will be back. How's your Enamour-

collecting going?'

Rory turned to Amy. 'What really happened?'

'The Herald decided to make me her

mouthpiece.' Amy pulled a face. 'I decided I wasn't

having any of it.'

He hugged her even harder. Why had they

quarrelled earlier? Why did they ever quarrel? She

was brilliant. He would never quarrel with her again.

Probably.

'Here's Beol,' said the Doctor quietly.

Rory and Amy turned to look. The King walked

slowly down the steps into the grand plaza. Behind

him, his knights carried their two murdered

comrades on biers. Behind them came the dragon.

The crowd of people stopped piling up their

possessions and bowed their heads in respect. The

dragon shone beneath the moon; heart-stoppingly

beautiful and infinitely desirable. Rory felt a pang of

regret that it was leaving. Perhaps it always felt this

way when an enchantment ended.

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'I hope the Teller is getting all this,' the Doctor

said, watching Beol's progress.

'I think he must be.' Rory pointed at the pile in

front of them, which was working as a receiver.

Beol's image appeared above it, and Rory was able to

watch both transmission and real event, as the King

came towards them.

When Beol reached the pile of treasure, he

stopped. He raised his hand and the cortege halted

behind him. The carriers lowered the biers and the

dragon to the ground.

'Enough,' Beol said simply. 'It is not worth the

price. It is not worth it.'

He stripped off his dragon armour and added it to

the pile. He placed the helmet on top and took a step

back. He looked no less extraordinary without it.

Then he bowed his head to his fallen knights.

'Ratings winner,' Amy said sombrely.

The King had barely finished his small ritual,

when the people of Geath began to converge upon

the plaza, carrying their Enamoured possessions

with them. A little girl staggered under the

weight of four huge candlesticks. Beside her, her

grandmother brought a golden bedpan, which she

placed like a cap on the top of the dragon helmet.

Soon Beol's armour disappeared from sight,

completely covered with the riches that the city

was relinquishing. A team was despatched to strip

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the veneer from the dome of the council chamber.

Throughout the rest of the night, as the full and

distant moon passed across the sky, the people of

Geath stripped their city bare.

At last, a massive heap of golden metal, as big as

an earthwork, dominated the main plaza. The whole

city had come to see what would happen next, no

longer able to watch the images the Teller had

steadfastly transmitted or hear Hilthe's firm and

friendly

encouragement.

They

filled

the

remaining space in the plaza, backing onto the

stone stairways that led up the hill. Others hung

out of the windows of those grand houses that

overlooked the council buildings.

The moon set. A brief chill descended upon

the city; a still silent moment before the dawn.

Then came the distant whine of engines and the

unmistakable makings of the Regulator's howl.

The crowd shivered, en masse. The two gunships

soared across the valley, beautiful and lethal. In the

very centre of the plaza, right beside the dragon,

the Regulator started to take shape.

From his vantage point on the steps leading up

to the council chamber, the Doctor watched its

appearance with a cold eye. 'I do hate being

coerced,' he said. Then he went forward to hear

the Regulator's claim.

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The Regulator grew until it towered over the council building.

'All parties assembled here. Your ten standard

time units have now elapsed. In accordance with

Clause 9.4b (subsection 12.2) of the Regulation of

Psycho-Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26), you

must now surrender all substances covered by

said Act.'

Its great voice boomed round the bowl of the

valley and, when some people screamed, the

Regulator responded with a nightmarish screech

that froze the heart and drowned out all competition.

One of the knights' horses — terrified beyond

understanding at the monstrous apparition

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DOCTOR WHO

ahead and scared beyond anything that its rider

could do to soothe it — bolted into the crowd.

It was nearly a disaster. It was still a tragedy.

The crowd scattered as best it could in the confined

space but there was a danger that people would get

crushed.

'Stay calm!' cried Beol. 'Clear away as quickly as

you can! But stay calm!'

People pressed back against each other in order to

open up room for the panicking horse to ride

through. The rider, bravely keeping her nerve,

guided her horse as best she could through this

space, trying to keep it from trampling anyone.

The poor frightened beast, seeing no way clearing

ahead, did not respond to its rider's soothing

words and gentle hands, and came skidding to a

halt, its hooves slipping on the stone. The rider

was catapulted from its back and crash-landed

against a pillar with a sickening crack.

A terrible hush followed. Rory sprinted over to

the knight but it was clear to him at once that she

was dead. Behind him, the horse, trembling and

snorting, was caught and steadied. Rory closed the

young woman's eyes. A gabble of talk broke out,

turning quickly from confusion into anger, as the

townsfolk grasped that they had complied with all

the demands made of them but one of their

number still lay dead.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Doctor rounded on the Regulator like a

force of nature. He ran across the plaza and came to

a halt in front of the giant creature. 'Is this your new order?' he shouted up at the monster. He flung

out his arms, encompassing the plaza and the

whole city of Geath. 'Is this what you wanted?

Striking terror into the hearts of people who can

barely understand your powers? Driving them to

death through fear? Is this why you fought your

war?' Quietly, turning away with a wave of the

hand, he delivered his final blow. 'You're no better

than the masters you rejected.'

The Regulator hovered silently above. Amy

held her breath. The crowd, too, grew silent

again; people were watchful and fearful. Had the

Doctor gone too far? Was this the moment when

the reprisals started, that reasonable force that the

Regulator had promised? The whole city was here. It

would not take much for the two gunships to wipe

out every living thing in Geath.

As Amy watched, the Regulator shrank. When it

was roughly human size, it took a step or two to

stand before the Doctor, almost as if it was

coming forwards for judgement. Its form, too,

altered subtly: the sharp edges smoothed; the long

muzzle, the fierce hinged jaw, and the extended

clawing hands all changed. Soon quite an ordinary

humanoid stood there; a little more elongated than

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DOCTOR WHO

Amy was used to and with a few more fingers than

seemed to her to be strictly necessary. The Regulator's

carapace was obviously armour; sleek dark armour,

worn as much for protection as for show. The alien

reached up and removed the helmet. Amy leaned

forward for a closer look. The alien shook out long dark braids and lifted her head. Her cheeks were reddish-brown and wet. The alien was crying.

'We meant you no harm!' the alien said. The

moonlight glistened on her tears. 'This was only

meant as a display of strength.' Her voice, without the

modulation that had hitherto been making it come out

monotone, was distraught. She looked around the

plaza to where the horse was still stamping and

snorting. 'Is the soldier dead?'

'Yes,' the Doctor replied flatly.

The alien wiped her gloved hand across her face.

'We meant you no harm.'

The Doctor pointed at the dead knight. 'Yet harm

is what you've caused.'

The alien shifted her helmet from hand to hand. 'Don't

you understand? We have to remove the metal, as

quickly as we can!' she said urgently. 'There might be

others in league with the Herald that would seize it

before we have the chance to take it. That's why we use

these tactics! Enamour binds itself to people's souls!

We could not risk a

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THE KING’S DRAGON

delay. We could not risk being refused—'

'All you had to do was ask.' The Doctor pointed at the council chamber. 'That building, there — that's where their council meets. That's where their King holds his

court. You could have sent a delegation. An envoy.

An embassy! Whatever name it is your committee

cooked up for its representatives. You could have

talked to these people. You could have explained.

Instead you sent gunships!'

'They harmed nobody! We only fired over the

city!'

'No more excuses,' the Doctor said coldly. 'They

only make me angrier.'

The alien lowered her head in shame. After a

moment, she burst out, 'If you had lived all your life

with Enamour you would understand!'

'How does that justify what you've done here?'

the Doctor shot back. 'You've terrorised these

people! Isn't that what your masters did to you?

Isn't that how the Bright Nobles ruled you?'

The alien jerked her hand up in front of her

face, as if making a superstitious gesture or

warding off a blow. 'Don't say their names to me,'

she said. 'Don't lecture me about that! You can

know nothing about it! The old world, the old

order — I lived there! I lived under it!' Her voice

became stronger and more passionate. 'If you had

lived under their rule, you would understand! Ten

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thousand years in their thrall - a world without

change, without hope, even hope of extinction...

Only Enamour...' On that word, her voice struck a note of deep despair. It was clear to everyone

listening where the Regulator's howl originated

and what it articulated. The death of hope. 'We

meant no harm. But we will not let anyone keep

and use Enamour! There will be no more Bright

Nobles. Never again!'

'I understand,' Amy said. She put her hand

upon the Doctor's arm. 'Doctor, I saw that world. I

felt what it was like. They must have looked down

on Geath and seen Enamour spreading out

everywhere. They must have been afraid that

nobody would pay any attention. If you could cry

out like that for ten thousand years and have

nobody listen, why would you think anyone was

going to listen now?'

'Amy,' the Doctor said gently, 'when they looked

down on Geath from their huge and staggeringly

well-equipped ships, weren't they able to see at

the same time that there was nothing on this world

to equal their technology? Couldn't they see that

there was nothing here that could be used as a

defence against their firepower? Perhaps they

thought all of these people didn't matter enough to

treat fairly? Did they see a primitive people and think

they could come and take whatever they

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THE KING’S DRAGON

wanted? I hate that. Hate it.'

'We don't have to agree with what they've done,'

Amy came back. 'We just have to understand.' She

paused. 'And there's the Herald. She'll be back

soon. We have to decide what to do with all the

metal before the Herald comes back.' Amy's voice

became urgent. 'Doctor, I don't think there's anyone

standing on this world right now that knows better

what Enamour can do than the Regulator and her

people. Look at her.' The Regulator looked back,

eyes bright with tears. 'I don't think there's anyone

standing on this world right now that I'd trust

more to take care of it.' She gave the Doctor's arm a

squeeze. 'You got I was including you in that, didn't

you? Yeah? In case I wasn't clear?'

'Thank you, yes, I did grasp the wider point,' the

Doctor said. To the Regulator, he said, 'I think you

should take your hoard and your war elsewhere.'

The alien bowed her head in acknowledgement. As

she turned away, the Doctor raised a finger. 'But.'

'Doctor...' Amy said warningly.

'But,' the Doctor said emphatically. The alien

swung round to listen. 'Earlier, you issued a series of

directives to the people of Geath,' said the Doctor. 'And the people of Geath complied with them all. Now

they should come under your jurisdiction. Under

your protection. Because the Herald will be

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back and I don't doubt for a second that when she

finds out that we have handed the metal over to

you, there'll be reprisals. I can't allow that. I can

only hope that you won't allow it either.'

The alien shook her head. 'I'm not authorised to

make decisions about the deployment of military

force—'

'What?' the Doctor cried. 'That's not an answer! Is it against protocol or something? Oh, yes, much better

to let an entire world of innocent bystanders become

charcoal than break some ludicrous little rule—'

'I'm not authorised to do it,' the alien said and pointed up at the ships, 'but my superior is. You need to talk to her. I can transport you to the ship

and you can make your case to her.' She nodded at

Amy. 'It might be advisable if you were one of the

party.'

'Come on board one of those ships? Yeah!' Amy

nudged the Doctor. 'Someone from Geath should

be there too.'

'Yes, good point.' The Doctor looked wildly

around the assembled crowd. The people of Geath

stared back uncomprehendingly. 'Who should

come? Who here keeps a cool head when faced

with almost inexplicable events and has a proven

track record of success at high-level diplomatic

negotiations?'

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'That'll be Hilthe,' Rory said at once.

The Doctor waved his hand in dismissal. 'You

always say that.'

'I think this time he's right,' Amy said.

The Doctor stared at her, then at Rory. 'I think

this time you're right. Where's Hilthe?' He swung

round and called out. 'Hilthe! Your moment's

come!'

'So jealous,' muttered Rory.

'What?' Amy said.

'You get to see inside one of those dragons.'

'They're not dragons.'

'Dragon-ships. Whatever. Still jealous. Officially

jealous.'

'I'll bring you back a souvenir.'

'Thanks. Urn, nothing gold.'

The crowd parted to let Hilthe through. The

alien conferred briefly with her colleagues via her

communicator and then beckoned to Hilthe, Amy,

and the Doctor to step forwards.

'Don't worry,' Amy said to Hilthe, just before the

field from the matter transmitter enveloped them.

'Everything will be fine.'

'Of course it will,' the old woman said briskly, as

if this was an everyday occurrence. 'It's simply a

question of finding a form of words acceptable to

everyone.'

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The matter-transmission field stabilised and Amy

got her first sight of the interior of the dragon-

ship. They had arrived at one end of a long room

filled with ranks of desks. Low partitions made of

a pearlescent material placed here and there

separated small groups of workstations. Occasional

pot plants strove to flourish under the unremitting

glare of the fluorescent lights. One of these was on

the fritz. An elongated humanoid in elongated

humanoid overalls stood on a small stepladder

beneath it, fiddling with what Amy hoped was not a

sonic wrench. 'Doctor, it's a cube farm.'

'Yes.'

'Like an office.'

'Yes.'

'In space.'

'Everything's better in space. Office space... Ooh,

watch it, here comes the welcome committee.'

Three aliens approached. They wore smart-

casual and distinctly non-military suits in nearly

uniform shades of bluish-green.

The alien in the centre of the group stepped

forwards to speak to them. 'My name is Anwa,'

she said. 'I'm the chief sub-director of Department

Four of the Regulatory Board. I'm the senior

representative here of the Reconstruction Oversight

Committee.'

Department Four? Amy glanced round. Was

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THE KING’S DRAGON

that the name of the ship? It hardly captured the

dramatic splendour of the dragon-ship's exterior.

The Doctor was right. They were rubbish at

names.

Anwa studied each of them in turn. Her eyes

were the colour of amethysts. 'Which of you is

senior management?'

Hilthe rose to the occasion. She swept past the

Doctor and Amy, and delivered an elegant and

nuanced bow. With great formality, she said, 'My

name is Hilthe. I speak for the citizens and the

sovereign of Geath. I greet you with amity and I

pray that we part in concord.'

Anwa gravely bowed her head. The two women

sized each other up for a moment, and then each

gave the other 'I-think-we-can-do-business' smiles.

Anwa looked at the Doctor. 'And you are...?'

'Ooh. Good question! I suppose I'm an

independent

observer.

Yes!

Like

that.

An

independent observer.' Grandly, he said, 'I shall

observe and if pressed I might even provide advice.

Independent advice. Independence guaranteed.'

'And you?' Anwa said to Amy.

'I suppose I'm... the independent observer's

lovely assistant.'

Anwa pondered the pair of them for a moment

and then gestured with a many-fingered hand for

them all to follow her. 'Let's get you signed in.'

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She led their party over to a desk where

temporary passes were issued and signatures and

arrival times collected. As this lengthy business

and its attendant paraphernalia were sorted out,

Anwa took the opportunity to speak to the alien

who had brought them up to the ship. They held a

brief hurried conference. Amy eavesdropped

without compunction.

'There's going to be an inquiry, of course,'

Anwa murmured. The other alien's shoulders

slumped; her whole demeanour depressed. 'But

we're behind you all the way, Camba. The whole

department's behind you.'

'I've been saying for years that something like this was going to happen,' Camba hissed. 'But all I

ever get back is — ooh, well, Protocol Nine Six One

was established for a reason, can't go messing about with it. Well, I've had it with Nine Six One. I'm not

going to operate under these constraints again! This is

supposed

to

be

a

professional

organisation!

Professional? It's a shambles!'

'We'll sort it out,' Anwa whispered. 'Start filing

your report. They'll do away with Nine Six One

this time round, I promise.' She turned back to her

guests. 'All done? Let's proceed.'

'I wish we'd brought the Teller,' Amy whispered to

the Doctor as they followed Anwa through the office.

Elongated people peered over the partitions,

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THE KING’S DRAGON

trying to get a good look at the alien visitors. 'He

would have loved this!'

'He doesn't need to see it.' The Doctor tapped his

forehead. 'It's up here already.'

'Hey, Doctor, did you hear them talking about

that Protocol Nine One Wotsit?'

'Nine Six One. Yes. Shush. Working on it.'

Anwa led them into a meeting room dominated by

a huge round table. They all shuffled round and took

their seats. In the centre of the table there was a pile of a pens and a plate of sandwiches. Amy nudged

the Doctor. 'Are they sandwiches? Can you get

sandwiches in space?'

'Why wouldn't you get sandwiches in space?

They're very convenient.'

'Doctor! Space sandwiches! I'm having one of

those!'

Amy reached to take one. The alien sitting

beside her yelled, 'Don't eat that!'

Amy yanked her hand back. 'Why what's wrong

with it?'

'They're stale.' He was faintly embarrassed. 'If I'd

known sooner we were getting visitors, I'd have got

some more sent up.' He paused for a moment,

thoughtfully. 'Maybe some cake.'

Anwa took her seat and called the meeting to

order. 'If I can begin by offering, on behalf of all

members of the Department, our deepest

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DOCTOR WHO

regrets as to how events unfolded this evening,'

she said, apparently sincerely. 'The Department

prides itself on the professional service that it

offers and I personally assure you that we shall be

undergoing a thorough investigation in order to

determine exactly the errors that were made and

how such errors can be avoided in the future up to

and including a thorough re-examination and

potentially

even

revision

of

all

relevant

procedures.'

Hilthe - who had been looking increasingly

baffled through this short speech - said, 'You mean

you're sorry our soldier is dead, and you're going to

do your best that nothing like that happens

again?'

Anwa blinked. 'Yes. That's what I mean.'

Hilthe raised an eyebrow.

'The Department's sorry,' Anwa said. 'I'm sorry,'

she added quietly.

Hilthe nodded slowly. 'On behalf of the citizens of

Geath,' she said gravely, 'I accept that apology. I

believe our, er, independent adviser,' she nodded at

the Doctor, 'has already pointed out that much

suffering and distress could have been avoided if

you had simply approached us in a more, ah,

conventional manner. Could my protest be noted

for the record?' Hilthe glanced around. 'We are

keeping a record of this meeting, aren't we?'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Doctor whipped out a spiral red and black

notebook and proceeded to scribble away in what

Amy assumed would be flawless shorthand. The

alien on the other team carrying out the same task

leaned over and whispered, 'Doesn't your assistant do

that?'

'Shocking handwriting,' he said back, traducing

Amy without shame. 'Don't know what these

schools do with them for all that time.'

The alien tutted and shook her head. 'League

tables,' she said darkly and went back to her

minutes.

'Your protest is noted,' Anwa said to Hilthe.

'Then let us begin,' Hilthe said.

The whole meeting took slightly under an

hour; what that was in standard time units, Amy

couldn't say. Her attention drifted once or twice,

chiefly to the prints that were hanging on the

walls, which depicted jaw-droppingly dramatic

alien landscapes. Ebony waves crashed upon

silver shores. Vast bridges connected huge towers,

built from metals Amy could not name and with

engineering she could not guess at. Presumably

these pictures looked bland through the eyes of

the people here and served chiefly to soothe the

nerves during a long afternoon.

By the end of the meeting, Hilthe had negotiated

temporary status for Geath as an associate member

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DOCTOR WHO

of the Reconstruction Oversight Committee, with all

the rights, privileges, and protections arising from

that status. In lay terms, that made Geath and the

Reconstruction allies, and the gunships would remain

in local space for the duration of the crisis.

'I have another request to make,' Anwa said. 'I

will understand if you refuse. It would help if one of

your people could summon the Herald again,

rather than one of the regulatory team. We've

learned from experience that Heralds are able to

detect if one of our species is summoning them.'

'That seems acceptable to me,' said Hilthe.

'Doctor, you do still have that ring?'

The Doctor put down his pen. 'I do - but you

should think twice before putting it on again,

Mother.' He glanced at Anwa. 'This encounter will

be for real this time, won't it?'

Anwa nodded.

'For real?' said Hilthe. 'Was it not real before?

Explain, please, Doctor - for one who may lack the

detailed knowledge to understand how such tricks

occur, but who does not lack wits.'

'Each time the Herald has appeared before,' the

Doctor explained, 'she's been a projection. She used

you - and Amy - as a means of communication.'

'We were her mouthpieces,' Hilthe said,

nodding.

'That's right. But this time she'll take full shape.

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THE KING’S DRAGON

And whoever is holding that ring will become the

channel through which the Herald will pass on her

way to taking that shape.'

'I'll do it, Doctor,' Amy said.

'No you will not do it,' Hilthe and the Doctor

said simultaneously.

'No, my dear,' Hilthe continued. 'It is Geath

that has made this alliance. Geath requires this

protection, and therefore Geath will provide this

service. And since I am the one that the Herald chose

as most likely to share her mind and be persuaded

by her appeal, I shall be the one through whom

she will pass.' She reached for Amy's hand. 'But I

would hear your counsel, for you have defeated her

once already.' She drew Amy aside.

The Doctor turned to Anwa. 'Protocol Nine Six

One,' he said. 'Rules dictating appropriate forms of

interaction with species designated as falling below

standards set for extraterrestrial contact. Rubbish

protocol. Don't care what you do - reform it, redraft

it, dump it - but next time you find a spot of

Enamour on a pre-industrial world, talk to them! If they're not ready to accept you as aliens, they'll

assume you're fairies or enchanters or something.

Might try and burn you, but your armour should

get you out of that. Anyway, drop Protocol Nine Six

One. If you need to talk to them, they should know

who you really are.' He wrinkled his nose.

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DOCTOR WHO

'Non-interference? Prime Directives? So twenty-

third century. All a bit retro. And not in a good

way.'

'You know it's a poor protocol, Doctor,' Anwa

replied, 'and I know it's a poor protocol, and Camba

certainly knows it - but try telling my boss.'

The Doctor ripped some pages from his spiral

notepad. They were full of closely written notes.

'My independent advice. Been to a lot of places,

made a lot of first contacts. Try that on your boss.'

Softly, he said, 'Your case stands or falls on its own

merits, Anwa. No need to go around terrifying

people.'

Anwa took the sheets of paper with a grateful

smile.

'I do have one request to make in return,' the

Doctor said. 'But first of all - tell me what plans

you have for the Herald once you've taken her.'

'We have a procedure for that, Doctor—'

'Yes, I'm sure you do, but you have to admit

that not all your procedures have been terribly

well thought-through.'

'Fair comment.' Anwa gave a dry smile. 'We'll

take her home. She'll be imprisoned, but only for as

long as her dependence on Enamour lasts. We have

people who will work with her to help her, a whole

Rehabilitation Board —'

'So you won't execute her.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

Anwa recoiled. 'We're not murderers, Doctor!'

'But you will use force to capture her?'

'We'll have to. As soon as she knows we're here,

she'll come out fighting.'

'Then I must have the chance to speak to her.' The

Doctor's voice was low and earnest. 'To reason with

her. Make her understand. Because there's a city full

of people down there that she can turn on. I don't

want them hurt. But most of all, I want to talk to her

because I think she doesn't know.'

Amy, overhearing, gave him a puzzled look.

'Doesn't know what?'

'That the Bright Nobles are dead,' the Doctor

said. 'That none of them survived.'

Startled, Amy said, 'But she said they were

coming!'

'Either she lied,' Anwa said, 'or she's fantasising.

Her masters are dead. The Doctor's right. They all

died at the end of the war.'

'All of them?' said Amy. 'Are you sure?'

'Oh yes,' Anwa said softly. 'We're sure.'

'Then I must have the chance to speak to her,'

the Doctor said again, and urgently. 'Before you try

to take her by force. Perhaps if I talk to her, she won't come out fighting.' Seeing that Anwa was shaking

her head, the Doctor carried on quickly, 'She's afraid

of you, Anwa. She's been alone for a very a long

time, without friends, without comfort

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DOCTOR WHO

of any kind. You know that you mean her no harm,

and I know it - but she doesn't. She's terrified, but

worse than that, she's powerful. She could do a lot of damage before you're able to stop her. I bet that's

happened again and again in the past.'

Anwa gave a grudging nod.

'See? Those procedures! Sometimes it's worth

trying something new. So if I can talk to her, make

her come with you willingly, we might prevent

more damage, more death. And it might be better for

the Herald too. Because if she does stand down, then

the battle to free her from Enamour will be half-

won. You'll be saved a lot of hard work.'

Anwa sighed. 'After so long, I doubt the Herald

knows where Enamour stops and her own self

starts. But there's no reason why you shouldn't try,

Doctor.'

The Doctor beamed at her. 'That's all I want to do.

Try.'

'Still,' said Anwa, 'Camba will be guarding

your back.'

'I've no objection to that.' The Doctor looked

around the room. 'All done? Meeting adjourned?'

'Meeting adjourned,' said Anwa.

Amy pointed at the pile of pens on the table.

'Anyone mind if I take one of those?'

226

Chapter

13

Camba transported them back to the main plaza in

Geath. When the crowd saw Hilthe, a great cheer

went up. She waved grandly in response. Beol came

to greet her and bent to kiss her hand. When he gave

her his matchless smile, she smiled back, patted his

hand, and tucked it under her arm.

Rory nudged Amy. 'Start of a beautiful

friendship.'

'Her and her toy boys,' Amy said. 'Never mind,

you've still got me.'

'Is the city safe now?' asked Beol.

'We have one last task to perform,' Hilthe told

him and held out her hand. 'The ring, please,

Doctor.'

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DOCTOR WHO

The Doctor rummaged in his pocket. 'Still think

that I should do this.'

Hilthe waggled her fingers at him. Hand it over.

The Doctor sighed and pulled out the ring. It lay

small and innocuous in his palm.

Beol frowned down at it. 'What is the meaning of

this?'

Hilthe, retrieving the ring, told him, 'We

have secured our alliance. Now we must honour its

terms and work with our allies to defeat our

common enemy. Stand back, all of you.'

They all moved back. Camba put her helmet on

and faded into the darkness behind the dragon.

For the third time, Hilthe cupped the ring in her

hands.

'Come!' she called up to the sky. 'Come back! I

wish to speak to you!'

A soft whisper sweetened the night air.

'Come back!' Hilthe called. 'I am here! I am

waiting for you!'

The whisper took shape and became a single

note. Light formed in Hilthe's hands.

Beol, understanding suddenly what was

happening, strode forwards. 'No! I forbid it!'

He reached to take the ring from Hilthe's hands

but waves of golden light burst outwards in all

directions, preventing his advance and enveloping

Hilthe entirely.

228

THE KING’S DRAGON

'Dear foolish boy,' Hilthe said. 'I am not yours to

command.' Holding up her hands, she summoned

the Herald. 'I am here! I am waiting to receive you! I

have gathered your possessions! Now bring me my

reward! Restore my city to me!'

The single note grew in volume. It stretched

into a full chord, sweet and melodic, but Amy

could hear the terrible hollow echo at its heart.

'Oh, be careful!' she cried to Hilthe. 'Please, be

careful! Don't let her trick you! We're all here! I'm

here! Remember! Don't forget!'

As Amy watched, the old woman's body

went rigid and her flesh became translucent. She

saw at once the difference between her own

experience as the Herald's mouthpiece and this

new manifestation. Instead of golden waves, a

thick bright channel of light shot down from the

sky and poured through Hilthe, emptying out of

her chest and into the plaza. Hilthe was the prism

through which the Herald's force and power and

hungers passed and then took shape again. Slowly,

the Herald materialised.

She crouched on the ground, a half-formed

figure of lights and limbs. As her strength grew, she

clambered to her feet. She resembled Hilthe, as if in

passing through she had taken an imprint of the old

woman's body, but she was longer and thinner and

crueller. Her eyes were bright as diamonds

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and her lips were black. She was a creature of light

and shadow, without nuance, and a star shone on

her finger.

No, not a star, Amy realised; it was the ring. As

the Herald took shape, the ring seemed to be in

two places at once, in the old woman's hands and

upon the long alien's finger. As soon as the Herald

was wholly present, the light in Hilthe's hands

flickered and went out. The ring was gone. The

Herald had it now. Hilthe slumped to the ground.

'I have come,' the Herald sang across the

valley. 'I have come to claim for my masters what is

rightfully theirs!' Seeing the gleaming pile of

treasure, the Herald stepped towards it. The

excitement in her voice grew. 'We shall be reunited!

We shall be restored!'

The Doctor strolled forwards, vulnerable and

completely relaxed. 'Hello!' he said. He gave the

Herald a little wave. 'Remember me? We chatted

earlier.'

The Herald, who had been advancing on the

metal, stopped to look at him.

'Remember?' said the Doctor, shielding his eyes

from her glare. 'In the hall? Under the dome? You

told me about the war. You told me how terrible it

was to see your world end. Remember?'

The Herald's black lips parted. 'Yes,' she

whispered, the kind of whisper that makes

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THE KING’S DRAGON

foundations shudder and trees wither.

'Good! Hoped you would!' The Doctor tugged at

his ears. 'Memorable face, isn't it? Bit odd, never mind, nothing's for ever. Like wandering about space on

your own. How's that working out for you? Must

be getting gloomy by now. Tell you what, how

would you like to go home?'

The Herald, who had been turning back to the

treasure, froze. 'Home,' she breathed.

'It could happen. If you want it to happen. I

know how lonely you've been,' the Doctor said,

with total honesty. 'I know what it's like, to see

the world end, to wander the stars in search of

something, anything. But you're not alone. Your

species - it's not dead, not by any means! There are so

many of them, and they're doing great things!

Marvellous things! They're kind people, they work

hard, they have a future. You can go back to them.

You can be among your own kind again. You can

share the peace they're building. You can be a part of

it.'

'My home is with my masters. Where they are, I

must be. I must be there to serve them.'

'I know you think that. I know you've thought it

for a very long time. But it doesn't have to be that way

—'

'My masters are coming! They will take back

what is theirs! The Bright Nobles will rise again!

231

DOCTOR WHO

They will make a world of light and bliss!'

Amy, remembering that place, shuddered.

The Doctor shook his head. 'I'm sorry,' he said

sadly. 'But that isn't going to happen. You have a

choice now. You can go home in chains, or you can go

home in peace. Either way, it's your home, and it's

where you're going. There isn't anywhere else to

go.'

'My masters are coming! Our world will be

restored!'

'But they're not coming. They can't. They're

gone. But you still have somewhere to go.

Somewhere much better than the world you lost,

much better than wandering alone in the dark,

where you're welcome, where you'll be at peace.

You've been lost for so long. But everything can

change, if you want it to change—'

As the Doctor spoke, a new harmony arose that

scorched the air with its intensity. The Herald grew in

stature with it. She rose above the valley and

stretched out a long and many-fingered hand across

it, like an angel of death.

'Liar!' she screamed. 'Deceiver! The Bright

Nobles live! They are coming! You cannot hold

them back! They will eclipse the sun and boil the

sky! This world will burn at their touch! They will

break the moon and extinguish your star! The

heavens will bear no trace of your existence!' She

232

THE KING’S DRAGON

lifted her hands up towards the dark sky as if in

prayer. 'They are coming! They are coming! My

masters!'

She lunged at the Doctor.

'Oops,' he said, and dived for cover. As he ran, he

slipped and fell to the ground. The Herald moved

in, her face raw with rage, her hand raised for the

kill...

And Camba came, screaming. Her howl no

longer held any note of despair. It was a war cry, a

drawing of a line, a challenge to her enemy and a

promise of her defeat. She strode across the plaza

and with each step she shot up in height. As she

bore down upon her enemy, the Doctor scrambled to

his feet and dived for cover.

'Don't kill her!' he yelled to Camba. 'You mustn't

kill her!'

The Herald moved against her enemy. Amy and

Rory took their chance and ran to reach Hilthe. The old

woman lay motionless in a dark heap upon the

ground. Rory turned her over and Amy cradled her

in her arms. 'Please! Wake up! Say something! Be

cross about something! Anything!' But Hilthe's eyes

stayed shut and her face was bloodless.

Above them, as if the Herald's threat was already

coming to pass, the night sky was alight. A great

battle unfolded before the people cowering in the

city below. Two giants — one ebony, one golden -

233

DOCTOR WHO

clashed like elements from the lowest point of the

valley to the highest point amongst the hills. They

blazed along the river, seeming almost to set it on

fire with the force and fury of their feud. This was a

hatred that had lost no intensity even though

millennia had passed. The battle was visible for

miles around. They saw it in Dant, and they saw it

in Sheal, and they talked about it afterwards for

centuries.

To Amy, the night seemed endless. Crouched

beside the silent dragon, Hilthe cold and lifeless in

her arms, she almost despaired of the battle ever

ending. The spectacle became too much. She bent

over the old woman, leaning in to kiss the top of

her head. 'Please,' she whispered to her. 'Don't

listen to the music. Stay with us. Stay with me.'

The world crashed into chaos all around her.

Then: 'Amy,' Rory whispered. 'Look! Look!' Amy

looked. 'It's morning,' Rory said, and took her

hand.

Pale dawn light crept into the valley of the

Evesh. For a moment, the giants paused in their

struggle, marking the change. And then Camba

strode forwards and, with the golden sun rising at

her back, descended upon her enemy like a cloud of

vengeance, extinguishing the Herald's pale light for

good. Now turning towards the dawn, Camba lifted

her hands to greet the new day and sang her

234

THE KING’S DRAGON

victory out across the valley.

Down in the plaza, Amy and Rory watched

fearfully as the Herald shrank down to no more

than their height and collapsed on the ground in a

heap of long and broken limbs. Camba, shrinking

more steadily, stood over her. She took off her

helmet and placed it on the ground, and then

communicated with her ship in a series of soft

clicks and trills. Dark bands, like fetters, appeared

around the Herald's thin wrists and ankles and the

matter-transmission field took her.

Camba turned and came to kneel beside Hilthe.

Gently, she took the old woman's hand within her

own long, still gauntleted hands. 'Mother,' she

breathed. 'We have her now. She's gone for good.

We won.'

As if called back by Camba's words, Hilthe

stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open. 'Camba!' she

said. 'And the sun too! A long night - and such a

strange one!' She lifted Camba's gloved hand and

pressed her lips against it. 'My compliments to

your mistress - and my grateful thanks to you.'

Camba bowed her head and withdrew. Hilthe

closed her eyes again, but Amy could feel warmth

returning to her body. She no longer feared for the

old woman's life.

Camba communicated once again with her ship.

The metal quivered and faded from view. At last,

235

DOCTOR WHO

only the dragon remained, its one red eye amused

and watchful, its mouth still curved in its secret

smile. Then it too trembled and disappeared. A

loud, ragged, and undaunted cheer rose up from

the plaza.

Hilthe opened her eyes. 'Has it gone?' she said.

'All gone, Mother,' said the Doctor. 'For good.'

'For the best,' Hilthe agreed. 'It was very gaudy.

Beautiful, in a certain light. But gaudy.' She closed

her eyes again. A party came down from the hall to

carry her home.

'I brought you a present,' Amy said to Rory,

after Hilthe was safely on her way. 'You know.

From the dragon-ship.' She handed over the pen

that she had taken from the meeting room. It had a

little holographic logo on it. Rory twisted it around in his fingers as if it was the most beautiful thing he

had ever seen.

'For me?'

'With love.'

He reached over to kiss her on the cheek. 'Thank

you.'

Under the fresh light of the new day, the old city of

Geath was at last revealed in all its intricate and

diverse design. The buildings were painted in

various shades — some honey yellow, some dusty

pink, some pale green — and the roofs were covered

236

THE KING’S DRAGON

in terracotta tiles. Complex mosaics in bright stone

decorated the street shrines and the fountains, and in

the temples candles burned undaunted before bold

and ancient frescoes venerating the departed. Floral

baskets hung from doorways and archways and, in

the long avenues, the trees shifted in the breeze,

unburdened of any ornamentation. The dome of the

council hall turned out to be made of pale blue glass,

the colour of a duck's egg, which tinted the light in

the hall and softly washed its white walls and

soothed the tempers of those gathered to debate.

But the crack across the dome was still there, and

the knights remained dead.

The three dead knights - the sum total of the

casualties of the only war to come to the valley in

over twelve thousand years - were laid to rest with

great solemnity in the old burial ground on the

western edge of the city. Two of the town's master

craftsmen had already begun work on the mosaic

that would commemorate them: a redecoration of

the whole southern face of the council building

around the main doors. Anyone coming to the hall

would see it and remember the dead.

The funeral procession passed slowly through

the streets. Beol and Hilthe walked together behind

the three biers and bystanders showed respect in

the traditional way, throwing wild flowers on the

stone streets in front of the cortege.

237

DOCTOR WHO

As the bodies went into the ground, Amy saw

two dark figures standing some distance away, in

the shade of an elderly tree. She tapped the Doctor

on the arm. 'Look over there,' she whispered.

Anwa and Camba had come to pay their

respects. Seeing they were noticed, Camba lifted

her hand and placed it against her chest, in salute.

Anwa nodded to the Doctor, who nodded back.

When the ceremony was finished, the Doctor

and Amy went to speak to them. Anwa passed the

Doctor a little handheld device. 'Interim report,'

she said. 'The Herald is in transit to the home

world. Her lifeboat has been traced and a division

sent to dismantle it. We'll withdraw from local

space when that task is complete.' She pointed a

long finger to the screen. 'If I could direct you to

the bottom of the page, Doctor,' she said. 'You'll

see that Protocol Nine Six One has been suspended

"pending review". All procedures surrounding

first contact are now under review. In fact, I have a

conference call on the subject starting in two-

tenths.'

'Good.' The Doctor pocketed the report. 'Get it

right this time.'

Anwa nodded. Camba saluted them both, and

then the matter-transmission field enveloped

them, and they were gone.

'Doctor,' Amy said, as they walked back to the

238

THE KING’S DRAGON

main plaza, 'you still feel sorry for the Herald,

don't you?'

The Doctor nodded slowly.

'After all she did. Still you tried to give her a

chance for a new life and still she tried to kill you.'

Amy shook her head. 'I don't understand you

sometimes.'

'Then try to understand her, Amy,' the Doctor

said softly. 'Try to glimpse inside her world. The

empire she serves comes crashing down. She waits

for orders, but her masters are silent. No more

commands. No more direction. She doesn't know

what to do next. She escapes the last battle, only to

wander for centuries, aimlessly, without purpose,

alone, waiting for an order that can never come.

When she detected some Enamour, it must have

been a lifeline. Her world returning at last. But it

never could. It's been dead for centuries.'

He stopped walking. He put his hands in his

pockets and contemplated the summer day: the

green grass, the blue sky, the birdsong, the warm

sun, the perpetual present.

'We're done here,' he said. 'Time to go.'

He wasn't quite done. In the main plaza, an envoy

from Dant stood before the steps to the council

chamber. A neatly dressed and rather jolly man,

he stared around quite openly, looking for some

239

DOCTOR WHO

sign that might explain the tremendous display in

the sky the night before. When he saw Hilthe, he

hurried forwards and gave her a smart bow.

'From the citizens of Dant, to our brothers and

sisters in Geath, greetings!' he said. 'Mother, a

pleasure to see you again!'

Hilthe shook her head. 'I am not the leader of the

council,' she said.

'Then to whom should I address myself?' the

envoy said. 'Who is the leader now?'

A good question, one to which the citizens of

Geath would apply themselves with vigour and

enthusiasm over the coming days, as the election

approached and the streets and squares filled

once again with conversation and debate. For the

moment, however, a temporary solution was

required so that the visitor might be welcomed

properly. Reaching a consensus via some means

which Amy could not quite follow, the crowd

pulled back and pushed Beol forward. The young

man stood blinking at the envoy and then collected

himself. 'Well. A most hearty welcome to you. I

am... um...'

'Temporarily empowered,' whispered the

Doctor in his ear.

'Yes, temporarily empowered to, ah...'

'Speak on behalf of the people of Geath,' the

Doctor suggested.

240

THE KING’S DRAGON

'Speak on behalf of the people of Geath, and,' a

light went on behind Beol's eyes and he beckoned to

Hilthe to join him, 'my esteemed colleague and I

request the pleasure of your company in our hall.'

Beol took Hilthe's arm and, together, they led

their guest up the steps into the council building.

'That's more like it!' the Doctor said, beaming at

them like he was a match-maker and they were the

couple going on the brochure. 'Next on the agenda —

electoral reform.'

The travellers left the city in the company of the

Teller, travelling in the old cart which had brought

him, his brother, and the dragon into Geath all

those months earlier.

'Why aren't you staying?' Amy asked the Teller.

'Now that your brother is... well, whatever he is

now?'

'I think I've outstayed my welcome in Geath,'

the Teller said. 'Besides, who there is going to

listen to a tale about a king and a dragon?'

They travelled along the wide road that led out of

Geath and then, more bumpily, along a muddy track.

Rory, sitting in the back of the cart, caught a glimpse of metal beneath the canvas cover thrown over the

Teller's possessions. His heart nearly stopped.

Surely the Teller hadn't been foolish enough to

keep a scrap of Enamour? Would he

241

DOCTOR WHO

even realise if he had? Glancing round to make

sure that nobody was watching, Rory twitched the

canvas aside.

Underneath lay the little satellite dish, black

and silver and mercifully Enamour-free. Rory put

the canvas back and said nothing. No harm done

and, anyway, the Teller had earned it.

'Here we are!' called the Doctor from up front.

The cart trundled to a halt. They all clambered

down and went off into the trees. Soon they saw

the TARDIS, solid and safe, waiting patiently for

them in the forest. The Teller stared at it and the

Doctor preened.

'Oh, you just love this bit, don't you?' said Amy.

To the Teller, she said, 'What are you going to do

now?'

The Teller shook himself. 'I don't know. Keep

travelling, I suppose, keep telling stories...'

'You should make some up about a man who

travels in time and space—'

'Doctor,' Amy said in a warning voice, 'it's not

always about you.'

The Doctor looked at her as if he literally did not

understand the words coming from her mouth.

'How?' said the Teller. 'How do you all fit in

there?'

'Oh, you know,' said the Doctor, opening the

TARDIS door and waving his hand about vaguely.

242

THE KING’S DRAGON

'Magic. Sort of. In all the ways that count.'

Inside the TARDIS, it was as peaceable and timeless

as ever. On the monitor, Amy and Rory watched the

Teller walk all the way round the blue box. He

stopped in front of the doors and shook his head.

Then he burst out laughing.

Amy laughed too. 'I wonder what story he'll

make out of all this?' she said. 'I wonder what it

will come out like?'

'Farce, probably,' said Rory drily.

'Hey!' Amy punched him gently on the arm. 'I

thought there were scary bits.'

'Of course, it's all a question of emphasis,' the

Doctor put in quietly. 'If you think about it, a

dragon can mean anything — facing your fears,

maybe, or not being taken in by appearances...' He

looked down at the TARDIS console and gave a secret

sombre smile. 'It can even be a reminder that although

it's within your power to force people to do what's

best for them, you shouldn't.' His finger hovered over a button. 'Least, not often.' He hit the control, and the

TARDIS dematerialised. Their last sight was of the

Teller's expression: sheer joy at hearing the best

sound in the universe.

The Doctor turned to his friends. 'Pockets,' he

said briskly.

'Pockets?' said Rory.

243

DOCTOR WHO

'I bet we all picked up a souvenir or two.'

One by one they checked. The Doctor placed

the ring that had summoned the Herald onto the

TARDIS console. Rory surrendered the circular tile

that Hilthe had given him. Amy took out the spoon

she had lifted from the gatekeeper's house. She held

it for a moment, warm and tingling in the palm of

her hand, and then shuddered and relinquished it.

'What are we going to do with the stuff, Doctor?'

she said. 'Are we going to destroy it?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'You can't destroy

knowledge,' he said softly. 'You can't unmake it;

you can't un-know it. You can only use it - and do

your best not to let it use you.' He dug deep into

his pocket again. He pulled out a fork and threw it

on top of the little pile of treasure. Then he turned away and set to at the controls, pulling and pushing

indeterminate levers and buttons. A silver haze

surrounded the objects and they disappeared from

sight.

'Goodbye Enamour,' said Rory, his tone a

combination of relief and regret.

Amy took hold of his hand. The TARDIS moved

on.

Only the metal remained, glowing palely in the

vacuum of space.

244

Acknowledgements

Grateful thanks to Gary Russell, Steve Tribe,

and particularly Justin Richards for advice and

enthusiasm. Big thanks also to Oli Smith for chat

and encouragement during writing. And thank

you, as always, to Matthew.

245

Coming soon from BBC Audiobooks:

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When the TARDIS arrives in Smyrna in 1929, the Doctor

and Amy find themselves in the middle of an archaeological dig. Soon a terrible chain of events is set in motion, and the Doctor is confronted with an ancient evil...

The Ring of Steel

by Stephen Cole

On Orkney in the near future, the construction of dozens of new electricity pylons is met with local resistance. Just as the Doctor and Amy arrive, the protestors are terrified to see the pylons come to life and begin to walk...

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by Justin Richards

£6.99 ISBN 978 1 846 07200 0

An astronaut in full spacesuit appears out of thin air in a busy shopping centre. Maybe it's a publicity stunt.

A photo shows a well-dressed woman in a red coat lying

dead at the edge of a crater on the dark side of the moon

— beside her beloved dog 'Poochie'. Maybe it's a hoax.

But, as the Doctor and Amy find out, these are just

minor events in a sinister plan to take over every human being on Earth. The plot centres on a secret military base on the moon — that's where Amy and the TARDIS are.

The Doctor is back on Earth, and without the TARDIS there's no way he can get to the moon to save Amy and defeat the aliens.

Or is there? The Doctor discovers one last great secret

that could save humanity: Apollo 23.

A thrilling, all-new adventure featuring the Doctor and Amy, as played by Matt Smith and Karen Gillan in the spectacular hit series from BBC Television.

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by David Llewellyn

£6.99 ISBN 978 1 846 07969 6

250,000 years' worth of junk floating in deep space, home to the shipwrecked Sittuun, the carnivorous Sollogs, and worst of all — the Humans.

The Doctor and Amy arrive on this terrifying world in

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When the Doctor is kidnapped, it's up to Amy and

'galaxy-famous swashbuckler' Dirk Slipstream to save the day.

But who is Slipstream, exactly? And what is he really doing here?

A thrilling, all-new adventure featuring the Doctor and Amy, as played by Matt Smith and Karen Gillan in the spectacular hit series from BBC Television.

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Earth... But what's going on in the Museum? And is

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Broadway?

An ordinary day becomes a time of terror, as the Doctor

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of the Vykoid are armed to the teeth and determined to

enslave the human race. Even though they're only seven

centimetres high.

With the Vykoid army swarming across Manhattan and

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But as time starts to run out, who can she trust? And how far will she have to go to free New York from the Forgotten Army?

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Doctor's famous time machine.

Everything you need to know about the TARDIS is here -

where it came from, where it's been, how it works, and how it has changed since we first encountered it in that East

London junkyard in 1963.

Including

photographs,

design

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The TARDIS Handbook is the essential guide to the best ship in the universe.

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Colorado, 1981. The Doctor, Amy and Rory arrive in

Appletown — an idyllic village in the remote American

desert where the townsfolk go peacefully about their

suburban routines. But when two more strangers

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The first is a mad scientist — whose warnings are cut

short by an untimely and brutal death. The second is

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And — as the Doctor, Amy and Rory realise — another

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Who can the Doctor believe when no one is what they

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equipment captured in their unceasing war against the

Daleks. It's where Dalek technology is analysed and

examined. It's where the Doctor and Amy have just

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Station 7 — and there's something there that they want back.

With the Doctor increasingly worried about the

direction the Station's research is taking, the commander of Station 7 knows he has only one possible, desperate, defence.

Because the last terrible secret of Station 7 is that they don't only store captured Dalek technology. It's also a

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Edited by Clayton Hickman

£12.99 ISBN 978 1 846 07991 7

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Explore Amy Pond's home village, Leadworth, read a

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BRAND NEW DOCTOR!

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SERIES 5 DVDS AVAILABLE NOW!

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