The Spear of Destiny (5 page)

He turned to go, then hesitated.
‘I do have a few problems with the Vikings, though,’ he said. ‘I
quite clearly told them to put you in different huts. And now
here you are together. I’ll send someone to separate you. Miss
Grant, Doctor, goodnight.’ And with that he ducked out of the
low door and was gone.

‘We have to escape,’ whispered
the Doctor.

‘Now?’

‘No, after we’ve been separated.
That will buy us some time. If you get free, find the TARDIS.
It’s here somewhere. Close by, I’m sure.’

‘But how will I escape? How will
you escape for that matter?’

‘I’m more of a thief than you
imagine me to be. While I was talking to Njord I pinched a
couple of knives. Can you reach my right-hand pocket?’

Jo squirmed and managed to find a
knife in the Doctor’s jacket.

‘As long as they don’t search
us,’ said the Doctor, ‘we’ll be fine. As soon as you’re tied up
again, get yourself free. Find the TARDIS.’

‘And what are you going to
do?’

‘I’m going to talk to
Odin.’

‘Oh,’ said Jo. ‘Fine. But what’s
the big hurry? The Master said we’ll see him tonight, anyway, at
the blessing. That doesn’t sound so bad.’

‘Jo, you should know your own
language better. A blessing isn’t what you think it is. It comes
from an ancient Norse dialect, in which to bless means to
sacrifice. We’re to be the sacrifice at tonight’s
ceremony.’

The Doctor made his way out of
Njord’s settlement towards the river and the temple, and, beyond
it, Odin’s village.

He moved quietly and, though the
night should have been dark with the last quarter of the month’s
moon dying overhead, the sky was lit by an eerie glow. Looking
up, he saw the comet in the sky and knew how much store the
Vikings put against such portents: the perfect moment for Odin
to make a sacrifice to ensure victory in the war that everyone
knew was brewing.

He hurried onwards, down the
slope, through the trees and across the river. In the gloom, the
waterwheels were still turning on and on, and now the Doctor
knew they had some hideous purpose of the Master’s making, but
there was no time to stop and investigate. In the distance the
lights of Odin’s village twinkled, and he pressed on.

As he came towards the hilltop
where the temple stood, he stumbled over something. He looked
down. More of that heavy electrical cabling, snaking its way
through the trees, and though time was against him he followed
it.

It wasn’t long before he saw
where it was going. It headed into a small tunnel cut into the
hillside, right underneath the side of the temple.

He crawled in and, although it
should have been totally dark, light came to him. Hand over hand
he edged further along the cable and down the tunnel until,
suddenly, it opened up into a small man-made cave. At its centre
sat another blank metal box, like the one in the wheelhouse, but
this one pulsed with lights set in its side, and it seemed to
throb from the power within.

Jo had managed to slice through
her bonds easily, remarking that Viking table knives were more
like lethal weapons than cutlery.

The night was still and the
village strangely quiet, although she could hear the sounds of
people in various houses as she passed by. She knew where she
was going. Since the chameleon circuit of the Doctor’s TARDIS
was still broken, his ship had to be in a building large enough
to house a 1963 police box, and there was only one of those: the
hall in which she’d met Njord earlier.

She crept towards it and saw that
it was in darkness. She found a door and slipped inside, finding
that the central hall was in fact surrounded by corridors and
galleries. She began to make her way along the first of these,
looking for the familiar shape of the TARDIS.

She turned one corner, and
another, but found nothing, and then came to a room where a
little of the weak moonlight spilled down from a glassless
window set high in the wall.

The light showed her something
very beautiful – a large wooden model of a Viking longship,
almost as long as she was tall. It was open-decked, low and
sleek, and very finely detailed, and despite herself she found
herself staring at it as if it had some magical attraction that
pulled her in.

She reached out a hand to stroke
the carved dragon’s head that served as the prow, and saw there
was even more detail inside the model: the benches on which the
oarsmen would sit, the tiller that controlled the rudder. She
couldn’t resist the temptation to touch the tiller, and as she
did so she gasped, because the thing snapped off in her
hand.

‘You!’ cried a voice in the dark.
‘You! What are you doing there?’

Someone was approaching.

She spun round and hastily shoved
the small piece of wood in her back pocket, turning a guilty
face to a large Norseman glaring at her.

‘Oh no,’ she said.

‘I just tied you up,’ said the
Viking. He grunted. ‘Come with me. Njord and Frey will want to
know of your escape.’

The Master laughed.

‘Didn’t like your quarters, Miss
Grant? No matter, I was about to fetch you and the Doctor,
anyway. Sadly, it seems that he has also seen fit to leave us.
For the time being only, no doubt. You wouldn’t like to tell us
where he is, would you?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Jo,
wondering if that were actually true.

‘Oh, I doubt that,’ said the
Master. ‘But it needn’t matter. His time is very nearly run, no
matter what. And you will make just as good a sacrifice as him.
Come along. We should be going.’

Two men grabbed Jo.

Njord stepped forward and clapped
his hands, and suddenly a host of Viking warriors appeared in
full battle gear.

The Master pointed to the corner
of the hall behind Jo. She turned, and there she saw the
TARDIS.

The Master slipped the key from
his pocket, strode over to the blue police box and opened the
door. He beckoned to Njord, and then he and his men and Jo all
followed him inside.

‘I always was a better pilot than
the Doctor, you know,’ said the Master, his hands on the
controls of the central console as the TARDIS began to
dematerialise. ‘I have no idea why he makes such a fuss.’ A few
seconds later they had materialised.

The Master left the console and
the press of Viking warriors silently stood to one side to give
him access to the door. He sauntered over and opened it. ‘Or
maybe she just likes me better than she likes the Doctor,
hmm?’

Outside the TARDIS was a vast
room, even bigger than Njord’s hall, which seemed to Jo to be
like a church or a cathedral.

The space was full of people and,
although a few seemed alarmed by the sudden arrival of the
TARDIS, most seemed unconcerned by it, as if they had seen
something similar before.

Jo looked around. There he was.
The one-eyed king. The living god. Odin, High King of all
Sweden. He was holding Gungnir and was flanked by his sons.
There was Thor with his hammer, and another man, whom Jo guessed
was his younger brother, Balder. Ranks of Odin’s warriors stood
on either side of them, and so the Aesir and the Vanir faced
each other.

In between them stood a man
alone, dressed from head to foot in a floor-length white robe.
In his hands he held a long and wicked-looking knife; he was
both the priest and the executioner, ready to make his
sacrifice.

‘So!’ roared Odin. ‘You come,
Njord, to observe our ancient and noble blessing here in the
temple, tonight of all nights.’

Njord stepped forward. ‘I
do.’

Odin smiled, but there was
treachery in that smile. ‘And have you, Frey, also come? Have
you come to keep your promises to me?’

Njord flicked his head sideways
at the Master questioningly.

The Master nodded. ‘I
have.’

‘What is this?’ cried Njord.
‘What have you agreed with this man?’

Odin laughed. ‘And yet we should
still have a sacrifice! Yes!’

There was a roar from his people,
and then his men parted as the Doctor was led forward into the
middle of the assembly.

‘You, Healer!’ declared Odin.
‘The owner of the magical ship that is now mine!’

Njord roared, a great cry of
betrayal and anger. ‘What? What is this?’

He waved to his men, but, before
they could react, more of Odin’s warriors emerged from the
shadows of the temple and surrounded them, weapons drawn.

‘And now, Odin, O great king!’
said the Master. ‘It is time for you to keep your side of our
bargain. The spear, if you please.’

Again, Odin laughed. ‘You foolish
little man! I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need
have I of you any more?’

The Master’s face darkened. ‘You!
How dare you! You know nothing! You need me. And you will give
me the spear, or I will not show you how to operate the
ship.’

‘You
will
show me!’ Odin shouted. Then his
voice dropped to a low, menacing whisper. ‘Or I shall kill you,
along with the Healer and the woman.’

The Doctor looked at the Master.
‘Nice work, old boy,’ he said, then turned to Odin. ‘Now, look
here, my dear sir, you need to listen to me. You need to listen
to me very carefully.’

Odin turned to face the Doctor,
surprise and amusement spreading across his face. ‘I do? And why
is that?’

‘Because this man has betrayed
you, just as you have betrayed him. But his betrayal is
far
more potent
than yours. Those waterwheels he’s had you build. No doubt he
told you they would benefit you in some way?’

Odin’s eyes narrowed. He glanced
from the Doctor to the Master, who now stood helpless, his arms
held firmly by two of Odin’s men.

‘He told us it was some great
power. Power that would light and heat our houses and
halls.’

‘And so it will, just not in the
way you imagine. What you have created for him is sending power
to a box hidden underneath this temple. This device has been
storing the power from the wheels for a very long time, and it
will explode when he wants it to, at his command. If it does so,
it will not only destroy you and everyone here, your temple and
your village, but also create a wound in the time stream,
preventing anyone from ever travelling in and out of here ever
again. No doubt that was his intention: to steal the spear and
cover his tracks.’

Odin stared at the Doctor. ‘You
are talking nonsense, Healer.’

‘I speak the truth. You may not
understand everything I’m telling you, but understand this: Frey
has betrayed you! Do not trust him!’

‘Enough of this,’ cried Njord.
‘It is Odin who has betrayed
us
!’

‘No!’ roared Odin. ‘You and Frey
have been angling for war from the very start, and you shall
have it!’

He waved Gungnir above his head
and seemed about to hurl it at the Vanir.

‘Doctor!’ cried Jo. ‘It’s the
start of the war!’

‘Not yet, it isn’t,’ he said.
‘Odin! Aren’t you forgetting something? Shouldn’t you make your
sacrifice for victory before going to war? That must come first,
correct?’

Odin wheeled round, his eyes wide
with rage, but he lowered his spear as he spoke to the Doctor.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You are right. You are right … Very well! And
which of you shall I sacrifice first? The traitor, Frey? Or your
woman?’

‘No!’ cried the Doctor. ‘You will
take me. I give myself to you, upon one condition.’

‘Which is?’

The Doctor waved a hand at the
priest. ‘Do not insult me with this man. If I am to be a
sacrifice, I request – no, I
demand
– the honour of dying at the hand
of the king, and by the power of Gungnir itself!’

‘Doctor! No!’ screamed Jo,
fighting but failing to break free of the men who held
her.

Odin stared at the Doctor as the
seconds ticked by, and then he began to chuckle. He lifted his
spear high above his head and bellowed its name: ‘
Gungnir!
’

His shout was taken up by his
men, and Odin stepped forward. The Doctor began to edge
sideways, backing away, backing away. Odin smiled, relishing the
game – the cat and mouse, the hunter and hunted – as the Doctor
opened up some distance between them.

‘No!’ cried Jo again.
‘No!’

And then she fell silent, because
she saw what the Doctor had done, and where he was now
standing.

Odin pulled back his arm and
flung Gungnir with all his might. The spear flew from his hand
and headed straight for the Doctor. It could not miss. It would
not.

Jo screamed as she saw the Doctor
watch it for a split second. Then he took two neat steps
backwards and pushed through the unlocked door of the TARDIS,
disappearing from sight.

The spear hurtled in after him,
it too vanishing.

Everyone gasped, and then fell
silent.

Nothing and no one moved for
three long heartbeats, and then the Doctor stepped out of the
TARDIS, holding the spear.

His voice was deep and strong.
‘You threw the spear that cannot miss, Odin. And you missed. Now
it is my turn.’

He pulled back his arm, then
paused and grinned. ‘Or, I can give you Gungnir back on one
condition.’

Odin began to roar his
displeasure, but the Doctor again made as if to throw the spear.
‘Are you so sure I will miss, too?’ he asked.

Odin’s roar settled into a
rumble, and through clenched teeth he hissed, ‘What is it that
you want, Healer?’

The Doctor turned to Jo and
smiled.

Safely inside, the Doctor
closed the door of the TARDIS, and Jo ran to his side. ‘We can’t
leave the spear!’ she cried. ‘It’s more important than I
am!’

The Doctor held her by the
shoulders. ‘My dear girl,’ he said. ‘That is very noble of you.
You were right. Your aspirations
are
the very noblest. But you’re wrong
about something. Nothing is more important than you.’