Fic: All the Hounds of Hell (DW/Historical RPF)
Title: All the Hounds of Hell
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 2736
Characters/Pairings: Henry VII, Ace McShane, Seventh Doctor, Jasper Tudor
Notes/Warnings: Written for hc_bingo square “culture shock” and from a random characters meme that suggested Henry VII and Ace on a date - not that this could count as a date, except possibly by certain Ace-specific definitions. (I default to The Shadow of the Tower versions, because I do, but that’s otherwise irrelevant, really.) Set sometime in Brittany in the early 1470s.
Summary: Henry Tudor is used to people wanting him dead, but they don’t usually send the hounds of hell after him to accomplish it. Luckily, there’s a very odd girl looking out for him…
Also at AO3 and the Teaspoon (when it's verified).
***
Henry was only too used to the idea of traps, but finding himself being hunted by something that looked like a hound out of hell was an entirely new kind of nightmare. He had run from it, was running still, but that, he knew, would not accomplish his escape - he was no match for this creature in terms of speed and sureness of foot - and the treacherous guard had deprived him of any weapon. If it caught him, he was its prey indeed. He had feared many things in nearly eighteen years - being murdered, or locked away somewhere - but this was the first time he’d had to consider the possibility of such an ignominious end as being eaten by this monster. He fought to master the cold fear that had seized him, the too-violent thudding of his heart as he fled onward, and to think of a way to avoid that terrible fate.
He stopped by the nearest tree, dropping to his knees as he searched for a stick or fallen branch with which to strike it - if he could catch it at the right moment, its speed could be used against it. However, it was too damp, and the only wood he could find in reach were twigs or soft, rotting branches in amongst the old leaves. He made a heartfelt prayer under his breath for deliverance, and got up, intending to try climbing the tree, if he could, but it was then that someone else shouted at him.
“Oy,” came the voice, its source still unknown. “Yes, you - beanpole! Duck!”
Someone who wanted him dead would have no cause to try and help him. Henry dropped to the ground even as the forest around him was riven with a sound that was louder than thunder and the ground itself shook, and as that ended, he could hear the cries and movements of all the woodland creatures, small beasts, birds and insects all running for safety or taking flight. He remained where he was for a moment longer, hearing somewhere near him a tree creak and groan as it fell.
“Don’t worry,” said the voice again, only this time much nearer. “It’s gone. Er. Sort of everywhere.” Then, as he turned around to face his rescuer, damp leaves and earth clinging to his clothes, she - for it was a strange girl in male attire - crouched down in sudden concern. “You are okay, aren’t you? It didn’t get you?”
He sat up, studying his peculiar ally more closely. Despite her questionable choice of clothing, she looked otherwise innocuous, but she had made the creature from hell vanish in a thunderbolt that had shaken the entire forest, so looks must be deceiving in her case.
“No, come on,” she said. “If it did, you need to tell me. The Professor said that one of those things only has to scratch you or even breathe on you and you’re a goner.” She held out a hand to him, and for all her oddness, there was nothing but concern in her dark eyes. “Oh, and talking of the Professor, don’t tell him how, right, because he said I definitely wasn’t allowed to use Nitro this time, but that thing was well vicious.”
Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that, trying to free himself of the leaves and dirt. He’d lost his hat, too, in the chase, but, he thought, he was yet still alive. He breathed out, feeling as if he might be sick, but the sensation thankfully passed again.
“Hey, aren’t you going to talk to me?” she said. “I promise I’m friendly. Come on - cat got your tongue?”
Henry gave a smile, amused by that. “No, it has not, and neither, thanks to you, did that beast.”
“Yeah, well, it was nothing,” she said, though she gave him a big smile in return that definitely held a certain amount of satisfaction at her handiwork. “I’m Ace. How about you?”
“Me?” He remained wary.
She nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, what’s your name? I mean, I’m sorry if you’re somebody important and all that. The Professor just told me to find you before that thing did. He seemed to know it was you they wanted the second he worked out they were time tr - I mean, up to no good.”
Henry got to his feet, but he was still shaken enough to feel the need to lean back against the tree. “Richmond,” he said. “Harry Tudor. And thank you. Do you know what that creature was? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He hoped he never should again, too. Bad enough that King Edward wished to see him dead or safely under lock and key in England, but was he now sending the devils out of hell to do his bidding? It was not the sort of thing Henry would have usually allowed himself to believe was possible, but he had no other explanation for the creature. He hoped that she had.
“Not really,” said Ace. “Just a sort of - er - new breed of wolf. From abroad. Those dodgy blokes sucking up to your Duke brought it with them. Don’t worry about them, though. The Professor’s sorting them out.”
Henry nodded. That was good to hear, if impossible to be sure of at least until he reached court again, but there had been the guard, he thought, wishing that did not always seem to be the case. He straightened himself up, however, and looked at her. “I see. And, tell me, why do you wear men’s clothes?”
“Why not?” said Ace. “I’d have fallen flat on my face trying to run after you in long skirts and a silly hat, wouldn’t I? Anyway, what’s wrong with it?”
Henry said, “Well, some might consider it almost… blasphemous.”
“You what?” said Ace, screwing up her face in such incomprehension that Henry decided whatever her reasons, she had no evil intent. “The Professor - Dr Smith - he’s my guardian, right? Well, he’s got, um, weird new-fangled ideas about stuff. Anyway, it’s ‘specially good for stopping stupid beanpoles from getting eaten by something out of a horror film, so you can’t complain.”
Henry turned to tell her in no uncertain terms that he was not a stupid beanpole, he was the Earl of Richmond, but he reminded himself instead that she had saved his life and he should at least try and be courteous to her, even if she didn’t seem to have the first idea about proper manners. “Very eccentric,” he murmured.
Ace only grinned in response to that. Despite everything, it was very hard to dislike her. She was a stranger, shockingly dressed, she was impertinent and a whole host of things he certainly ought to disapprove of, but she’d killed the beast and seemed to be almost incapable of a convincing lie. She was a traveller, too, he thought. Perhaps her behaviour was more usual where she came from, difficult as that was to imagine. Whoever she was, there was no malice in her or her want of ceremony and that certainly made a refreshing change.
“You are okay, aren’t you?” she asked, proving his point with her renewal of concern. “I mean - I saw what that bilgebag did, and then the thing went straight for you.”
Henry nodded. “Yes. It appears I can run at a swifter rate than I had yet discovered. And the rest you know. As for the guard - he will be dealt with, if he has not already fled elsewhere.”
“Who is it wants to kill you so badly?” she asked. “You don’t seem that bad to me.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “I thank you. And the King of England would be happy to see me dead or safely in his care in the Tower or one of his other fortresses.”
“Gordon Bennett,” said Ace, evidently impressed by the quality of his enemies. “What did you do?”
Henry gave a shrug. “I exist. It would be easier for him if I didn’t.”
“Oh,” said Ace, though she didn’t sound as if she understood. “So, why d’you stay here, then? I mean, Brittany’s practically next door. Why not get as far away as you can?”
“It’s not that simple. Other rulers might not want to annoy King Edward. Some want too much to please him and would hand me over to him. And perhaps I will get my chance to restore our house - or my mother will succeed in persuading the king to agree to restore me. So, I remain as a guest of Duke Francis here.”
“Oh,” said Ace again. “And I suppose it’s a bit early to scarper to Australia or America or something. But then, that’s probably not what’s supposed to happen or the Professor wouldn’t have - never mind.”
“Do you know what’s supposed to happen, then?” It seemed an extravagant and unlikely claim, and he was amused by the idea.
She gave a sudden smile. “Yeah, actually. I do. Just can’t always remember all the details, that’s the trouble.”
“Ah,” he said, grinning. “Then you are unreliable, like all oracles.”
Ace poked her tongue out at him. “Come on,” she said. “We should get back. The Professor’s going to be looking for us.”
“My uncle also,” said Henry.
She put a hand to his arm, causing him to flinch slightly from such a casual, familiar gesture, but again, she seemed to mean no harm or insult. Henry wondered where one could grow up and have so little idea how to behave towards an earl. He suspected that she would have acted in the same manner even if he were a Duke or a King.
“Good luck, Beanpole,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out. If nothing else, it sounds like your Mum’s a lot better than mine, so that’s something.”
He had no leisure to reply, as someone else came into view as they emerged from the edge of the forest.
“Ace!”
She looked at him. “It’s the Doctor. Remember: not a word about the nitro!”
“You have my oath, lady,” he said. “I’ll say nothing about your magic. How did you work it, by the way? Gunpowder, perhaps?”
Ace tilted her head to one side, considering that. “Yeah. Sort of. Same basic principle when you come down to it.”
Ace’s much-mentioned guardian reached them, out of breath and holding onto his odd, light-coloured hat of straw.
“Oh, well done, Ace,” he said, and then gave Henry a smile. “All in one piece, I see. Splendid. Can’t have history knocked out of place like that.” He put his arm around Ace, and said, more sternly, “Speaking of which, Ace, did I or did I not specifically say that you were under no circumstances to use any of that Nitro 9 that you assured me you weren’t carrying?”
She pulled a face. “Yeah, but, Professor, you also said it was imperative that I didn’t let that whacking great fire-breathing thing get Harry here.”
“And?”
“Well, it turned out it had to be one or the other.”
“Sir,” said Henry, interrupting this conversation. “As I owe your ward my life, I can hardly allow you to scold her for saving it.”
The Doctor turned to Ace. She gave him an unconvincing innocent look in response. “Oh, well,” he said. “But you do realise that causing explosions in the middle of a wood is hardly following appropriate health and safety procedures?”
Ace nodded. “And I’m very sorry, and I won’t do it again. Unless any other monsters are trying to nobble people and there’s no alternative.”
“A reasonable compromise,” the Doctor said, and smiled at Henry as Ace ran on ahead of them.
Henry leaned nearer to him. “Sir, you should take better care of your ward - you should at least find her more Christian clothes to wear.”
“Oh, what an interesting thought,” said the Doctor. “Do my clothes own to a faith, or a philosophy? I must ask them next time I’m doing the laundry.” Then, before Henry could be offended by his mockery, he winked at him. “And I think too many changes of that sort and Ace would be spoiled, don’t you agree? I rather like her as she is.”
Henry couldn’t find it in him to argue that point.
“Besides,” said the Doctor, “you know how it is with strong-minded women. You do, don’t you? The Lady Margaret certainly might -”
Henry turned his head sharply. “Do you claim to know my mother, sir?”
“We’ve met,” said the Doctor. “Once a long time ago and again, a few years from now. A most remarkable lady.”
Ace rejoined them, catching hold of Henry’s arm again. “Over there,” she said. “There’s a bloke watching us. Is that your uncle - or someone else up to no good?”
“It’s my uncle,” Henry said. Uncle Jasper had indeed spotted the three of them and was now signalling at him. “I see he wants me. We had better hurry.”
The Doctor didn’t move. “Our path lies this way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction. He doffed his hat, first at the still-distant Jasper, and then again, to Henry, in a gesture of farewell. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Thank you,” said Henry, and then looked at Ace.
She punched him on the arm, as one boy might to another, and then stuck her hands in the pocket of her odd, bulky coat. “Take care of yourself, Beanpole. Don’t want my work wasted, do I?”
“I’m always careful,” he said. “God be with you, Ace, and fare you well - and perhaps one day if we should meet again, I will be in a position to reward you for your service to me.”
She just grinned. “Yeah, right. You going to make me a knight of the realm or something?”
“Harry, where were you?” said his uncle as he reached him. “Dr Smith warned me you were in trouble - and I see by the state of you, he wasn’t wrong.”
Henry thought about the tale he had to tell, and smiled at his uncle. “Oh, I was chased by a hound out of hell and rescued by a fair Amazon, but you need not worry, Uncle. It is all done with now and the hound killed by a thunderbolt.”
“Oh, come now, Harry - the truth, not one of your riddles!”
Henry glanced down to hide his further amusement. “Somehow I thought you might not believe me.” He moved to start walking back in the direction of the court, but Jasper pulled him back.
“The Duke was worried by the day’s events, too. Wants you somewhere safer again now. There are horses and men waiting further up the path. Come on, Harry bach.” His uncle put a hand on his shoulder briefly.
Henry nodded, quickening his pace to first match and then outstrip his uncle’s. He said nothing more, but his heart sank a little. He knew by now that a safer place would mean yet another isolated fortress and grateful as he was to the Duke of Brittany, sometimes there wasn’t such a great difference between a guest and a prisoner, after all.
“We’re both still here,” said Jasper. “That’s what counts, isn’t it?”
Today, thought Henry, he could have been eaten by the most terrifying creature he had ever seen, and he had miraculously escaped that fate, thanks to God, who had sent him two most unlikely rescuers. He gave a slow smile. “Yes,” he said, “of course it is.”
~0~
“Historical improvement societies, always trying to meddle with time,” said the Doctor, once they were back in the TARDIS. He shook his head. “Terrible nuisances. Of course, usually they implode under the weight of their own paradoxes but occasionally one of them gets through to cause trouble.”
“Not like us, then.”
“I always know precisely what I’m doing.”
Ace leant against the console. “So… who was he, then? Don’t tell me I’ve just been rescuing Attila the Hun or something.”
“Ace, hardly!” said the Doctor. He leant his head to one side and gave a slight smile. “Don’t you know?”
She shrugged. “Said he was Harry Tidder or something. Or Richmond.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “I see. Well, then, that’s who you rescued, isn’t it? Does anything else matter?”
Ace thought about it. “S’pose not.”
“Mind, maybe you shouldn’t have been quite so quick to turn down that offer of a reward…”
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there:
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 2736
Characters/Pairings: Henry VII, Ace McShane, Seventh Doctor, Jasper Tudor
Notes/Warnings: Written for hc_bingo square “culture shock” and from a random characters meme that suggested Henry VII and Ace on a date - not that this could count as a date, except possibly by certain Ace-specific definitions. (I default to The Shadow of the Tower versions, because I do, but that’s otherwise irrelevant, really.) Set sometime in Brittany in the early 1470s.
Summary: Henry Tudor is used to people wanting him dead, but they don’t usually send the hounds of hell after him to accomplish it. Luckily, there’s a very odd girl looking out for him…
Also at AO3 and the Teaspoon (when it's verified).
***
Henry was only too used to the idea of traps, but finding himself being hunted by something that looked like a hound out of hell was an entirely new kind of nightmare. He had run from it, was running still, but that, he knew, would not accomplish his escape - he was no match for this creature in terms of speed and sureness of foot - and the treacherous guard had deprived him of any weapon. If it caught him, he was its prey indeed. He had feared many things in nearly eighteen years - being murdered, or locked away somewhere - but this was the first time he’d had to consider the possibility of such an ignominious end as being eaten by this monster. He fought to master the cold fear that had seized him, the too-violent thudding of his heart as he fled onward, and to think of a way to avoid that terrible fate.
He stopped by the nearest tree, dropping to his knees as he searched for a stick or fallen branch with which to strike it - if he could catch it at the right moment, its speed could be used against it. However, it was too damp, and the only wood he could find in reach were twigs or soft, rotting branches in amongst the old leaves. He made a heartfelt prayer under his breath for deliverance, and got up, intending to try climbing the tree, if he could, but it was then that someone else shouted at him.
“Oy,” came the voice, its source still unknown. “Yes, you - beanpole! Duck!”
Someone who wanted him dead would have no cause to try and help him. Henry dropped to the ground even as the forest around him was riven with a sound that was louder than thunder and the ground itself shook, and as that ended, he could hear the cries and movements of all the woodland creatures, small beasts, birds and insects all running for safety or taking flight. He remained where he was for a moment longer, hearing somewhere near him a tree creak and groan as it fell.
“Don’t worry,” said the voice again, only this time much nearer. “It’s gone. Er. Sort of everywhere.” Then, as he turned around to face his rescuer, damp leaves and earth clinging to his clothes, she - for it was a strange girl in male attire - crouched down in sudden concern. “You are okay, aren’t you? It didn’t get you?”
He sat up, studying his peculiar ally more closely. Despite her questionable choice of clothing, she looked otherwise innocuous, but she had made the creature from hell vanish in a thunderbolt that had shaken the entire forest, so looks must be deceiving in her case.
“No, come on,” she said. “If it did, you need to tell me. The Professor said that one of those things only has to scratch you or even breathe on you and you’re a goner.” She held out a hand to him, and for all her oddness, there was nothing but concern in her dark eyes. “Oh, and talking of the Professor, don’t tell him how, right, because he said I definitely wasn’t allowed to use Nitro this time, but that thing was well vicious.”
Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that, trying to free himself of the leaves and dirt. He’d lost his hat, too, in the chase, but, he thought, he was yet still alive. He breathed out, feeling as if he might be sick, but the sensation thankfully passed again.
“Hey, aren’t you going to talk to me?” she said. “I promise I’m friendly. Come on - cat got your tongue?”
Henry gave a smile, amused by that. “No, it has not, and neither, thanks to you, did that beast.”
“Yeah, well, it was nothing,” she said, though she gave him a big smile in return that definitely held a certain amount of satisfaction at her handiwork. “I’m Ace. How about you?”
“Me?” He remained wary.
She nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, what’s your name? I mean, I’m sorry if you’re somebody important and all that. The Professor just told me to find you before that thing did. He seemed to know it was you they wanted the second he worked out they were time tr - I mean, up to no good.”
Henry got to his feet, but he was still shaken enough to feel the need to lean back against the tree. “Richmond,” he said. “Harry Tudor. And thank you. Do you know what that creature was? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He hoped he never should again, too. Bad enough that King Edward wished to see him dead or safely under lock and key in England, but was he now sending the devils out of hell to do his bidding? It was not the sort of thing Henry would have usually allowed himself to believe was possible, but he had no other explanation for the creature. He hoped that she had.
“Not really,” said Ace. “Just a sort of - er - new breed of wolf. From abroad. Those dodgy blokes sucking up to your Duke brought it with them. Don’t worry about them, though. The Professor’s sorting them out.”
Henry nodded. That was good to hear, if impossible to be sure of at least until he reached court again, but there had been the guard, he thought, wishing that did not always seem to be the case. He straightened himself up, however, and looked at her. “I see. And, tell me, why do you wear men’s clothes?”
“Why not?” said Ace. “I’d have fallen flat on my face trying to run after you in long skirts and a silly hat, wouldn’t I? Anyway, what’s wrong with it?”
Henry said, “Well, some might consider it almost… blasphemous.”
“You what?” said Ace, screwing up her face in such incomprehension that Henry decided whatever her reasons, she had no evil intent. “The Professor - Dr Smith - he’s my guardian, right? Well, he’s got, um, weird new-fangled ideas about stuff. Anyway, it’s ‘specially good for stopping stupid beanpoles from getting eaten by something out of a horror film, so you can’t complain.”
Henry turned to tell her in no uncertain terms that he was not a stupid beanpole, he was the Earl of Richmond, but he reminded himself instead that she had saved his life and he should at least try and be courteous to her, even if she didn’t seem to have the first idea about proper manners. “Very eccentric,” he murmured.
Ace only grinned in response to that. Despite everything, it was very hard to dislike her. She was a stranger, shockingly dressed, she was impertinent and a whole host of things he certainly ought to disapprove of, but she’d killed the beast and seemed to be almost incapable of a convincing lie. She was a traveller, too, he thought. Perhaps her behaviour was more usual where she came from, difficult as that was to imagine. Whoever she was, there was no malice in her or her want of ceremony and that certainly made a refreshing change.
“You are okay, aren’t you?” she asked, proving his point with her renewal of concern. “I mean - I saw what that bilgebag did, and then the thing went straight for you.”
Henry nodded. “Yes. It appears I can run at a swifter rate than I had yet discovered. And the rest you know. As for the guard - he will be dealt with, if he has not already fled elsewhere.”
“Who is it wants to kill you so badly?” she asked. “You don’t seem that bad to me.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “I thank you. And the King of England would be happy to see me dead or safely in his care in the Tower or one of his other fortresses.”
“Gordon Bennett,” said Ace, evidently impressed by the quality of his enemies. “What did you do?”
Henry gave a shrug. “I exist. It would be easier for him if I didn’t.”
“Oh,” said Ace, though she didn’t sound as if she understood. “So, why d’you stay here, then? I mean, Brittany’s practically next door. Why not get as far away as you can?”
“It’s not that simple. Other rulers might not want to annoy King Edward. Some want too much to please him and would hand me over to him. And perhaps I will get my chance to restore our house - or my mother will succeed in persuading the king to agree to restore me. So, I remain as a guest of Duke Francis here.”
“Oh,” said Ace again. “And I suppose it’s a bit early to scarper to Australia or America or something. But then, that’s probably not what’s supposed to happen or the Professor wouldn’t have - never mind.”
“Do you know what’s supposed to happen, then?” It seemed an extravagant and unlikely claim, and he was amused by the idea.
She gave a sudden smile. “Yeah, actually. I do. Just can’t always remember all the details, that’s the trouble.”
“Ah,” he said, grinning. “Then you are unreliable, like all oracles.”
Ace poked her tongue out at him. “Come on,” she said. “We should get back. The Professor’s going to be looking for us.”
“My uncle also,” said Henry.
She put a hand to his arm, causing him to flinch slightly from such a casual, familiar gesture, but again, she seemed to mean no harm or insult. Henry wondered where one could grow up and have so little idea how to behave towards an earl. He suspected that she would have acted in the same manner even if he were a Duke or a King.
“Good luck, Beanpole,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll all work out. If nothing else, it sounds like your Mum’s a lot better than mine, so that’s something.”
He had no leisure to reply, as someone else came into view as they emerged from the edge of the forest.
“Ace!”
She looked at him. “It’s the Doctor. Remember: not a word about the nitro!”
“You have my oath, lady,” he said. “I’ll say nothing about your magic. How did you work it, by the way? Gunpowder, perhaps?”
Ace tilted her head to one side, considering that. “Yeah. Sort of. Same basic principle when you come down to it.”
Ace’s much-mentioned guardian reached them, out of breath and holding onto his odd, light-coloured hat of straw.
“Oh, well done, Ace,” he said, and then gave Henry a smile. “All in one piece, I see. Splendid. Can’t have history knocked out of place like that.” He put his arm around Ace, and said, more sternly, “Speaking of which, Ace, did I or did I not specifically say that you were under no circumstances to use any of that Nitro 9 that you assured me you weren’t carrying?”
She pulled a face. “Yeah, but, Professor, you also said it was imperative that I didn’t let that whacking great fire-breathing thing get Harry here.”
“And?”
“Well, it turned out it had to be one or the other.”
“Sir,” said Henry, interrupting this conversation. “As I owe your ward my life, I can hardly allow you to scold her for saving it.”
The Doctor turned to Ace. She gave him an unconvincing innocent look in response. “Oh, well,” he said. “But you do realise that causing explosions in the middle of a wood is hardly following appropriate health and safety procedures?”
Ace nodded. “And I’m very sorry, and I won’t do it again. Unless any other monsters are trying to nobble people and there’s no alternative.”
“A reasonable compromise,” the Doctor said, and smiled at Henry as Ace ran on ahead of them.
Henry leaned nearer to him. “Sir, you should take better care of your ward - you should at least find her more Christian clothes to wear.”
“Oh, what an interesting thought,” said the Doctor. “Do my clothes own to a faith, or a philosophy? I must ask them next time I’m doing the laundry.” Then, before Henry could be offended by his mockery, he winked at him. “And I think too many changes of that sort and Ace would be spoiled, don’t you agree? I rather like her as she is.”
Henry couldn’t find it in him to argue that point.
“Besides,” said the Doctor, “you know how it is with strong-minded women. You do, don’t you? The Lady Margaret certainly might -”
Henry turned his head sharply. “Do you claim to know my mother, sir?”
“We’ve met,” said the Doctor. “Once a long time ago and again, a few years from now. A most remarkable lady.”
Ace rejoined them, catching hold of Henry’s arm again. “Over there,” she said. “There’s a bloke watching us. Is that your uncle - or someone else up to no good?”
“It’s my uncle,” Henry said. Uncle Jasper had indeed spotted the three of them and was now signalling at him. “I see he wants me. We had better hurry.”
The Doctor didn’t move. “Our path lies this way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction. He doffed his hat, first at the still-distant Jasper, and then again, to Henry, in a gesture of farewell. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Thank you,” said Henry, and then looked at Ace.
She punched him on the arm, as one boy might to another, and then stuck her hands in the pocket of her odd, bulky coat. “Take care of yourself, Beanpole. Don’t want my work wasted, do I?”
“I’m always careful,” he said. “God be with you, Ace, and fare you well - and perhaps one day if we should meet again, I will be in a position to reward you for your service to me.”
She just grinned. “Yeah, right. You going to make me a knight of the realm or something?”
“Harry, where were you?” said his uncle as he reached him. “Dr Smith warned me you were in trouble - and I see by the state of you, he wasn’t wrong.”
Henry thought about the tale he had to tell, and smiled at his uncle. “Oh, I was chased by a hound out of hell and rescued by a fair Amazon, but you need not worry, Uncle. It is all done with now and the hound killed by a thunderbolt.”
“Oh, come now, Harry - the truth, not one of your riddles!”
Henry glanced down to hide his further amusement. “Somehow I thought you might not believe me.” He moved to start walking back in the direction of the court, but Jasper pulled him back.
“The Duke was worried by the day’s events, too. Wants you somewhere safer again now. There are horses and men waiting further up the path. Come on, Harry bach.” His uncle put a hand on his shoulder briefly.
Henry nodded, quickening his pace to first match and then outstrip his uncle’s. He said nothing more, but his heart sank a little. He knew by now that a safer place would mean yet another isolated fortress and grateful as he was to the Duke of Brittany, sometimes there wasn’t such a great difference between a guest and a prisoner, after all.
“We’re both still here,” said Jasper. “That’s what counts, isn’t it?”
Today, thought Henry, he could have been eaten by the most terrifying creature he had ever seen, and he had miraculously escaped that fate, thanks to God, who had sent him two most unlikely rescuers. He gave a slow smile. “Yes,” he said, “of course it is.”
~0~
“Historical improvement societies, always trying to meddle with time,” said the Doctor, once they were back in the TARDIS. He shook his head. “Terrible nuisances. Of course, usually they implode under the weight of their own paradoxes but occasionally one of them gets through to cause trouble.”
“Not like us, then.”
“I always know precisely what I’m doing.”
Ace leant against the console. “So… who was he, then? Don’t tell me I’ve just been rescuing Attila the Hun or something.”
“Ace, hardly!” said the Doctor. He leant his head to one side and gave a slight smile. “Don’t you know?”
She shrugged. “Said he was Harry Tidder or something. Or Richmond.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor. “I see. Well, then, that’s who you rescued, isn’t it? Does anything else matter?”
Ace thought about it. “S’pose not.”
“Mind, maybe you shouldn’t have been quite so quick to turn down that offer of a reward…”
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there: