1x09 The Embers of Alexandria (6.2/7)
Title: The Embers of Alexandria (6.2/7)
Author: principia_coh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Waylaid en route to a holiday, the Doctor and Rose encounter unexpected wonders... and new dangers.
Author’s notes: Thanks to ginamak and leighleighla for their excellent and patient beta work!
Episode 9 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following The Wretched Hive last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6.1
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A multitude of glittering lights danced and skipped between the wondrous objects displayed in this temple. Mysterious notes resonated throughout the space, forming an unfathomable song.
Such wonders Lobus had never in all the years of his life dreamed he might be privileged to witness-and at the centre of it all stood The Doctor Spartacus, clearly a servitor of the gods. Or perhaps he was truly Virbius himself!
The Doctor looked up from his task and upon both Lobus and Quintus, then turned to one of the relics, whose colours fixed and began to pulse. He clutched his head as if in terrible agony.
What should we do? Lobus looked to Quintus, who was staring... at the sight of a body in repose on a second altar?
Gods, had they interrupted a sacred ceremony?
The Doctor jumped, and returned to working frenetically on the relics before him, waving a small stone wand tipped with a luminous blue stone-which itself made softly trilling sounds-over the objects.
Beside him on the altar was a large, unfurled scroll etched with incomprehensible symbols that danced as the Doctor’s fingers skimmed across the scroll’s surface.
Lobus and Quintus watched raptly as the Doctor continued his endeavour. It might have been seconds or minutes later that he finished, but he leapt across the room to place one of the relics, a small box, on the chest of the body. The Doctor sadly regarded the man at rest-for only a moment-then bolted back to the altar. Was he about to complete the ritual?
The Doctor spun and aimed his wand in turn at several of the relics, which increased the strange music each time.
The paean raised to a height almost beyond hearing, and the man laid atop the smaller altar vanished.
The Doctor’s features were still pinched with pain, but he appeared to be at least slightly relieved. Relieved, or resolved.
Lobus dropped to his knees, and to his astonishment, Quintus did the same without prompting.
Somehow, Lobus managed to find his voice. “Doctor, we beg your forgiveness for our intrusion!”
The Doctor peered at the two of them for a long moment, as if he’d forgot they were even present, then spoke as he rushed over to them.
“Now, now, no begging, nothing to forgive!” the Doctor said energetically.
The Doctor actually helped him and Quintus to their feet. The Doctor twitched slightly and cast a glance back at the large relic, which continued its display.
The Doctor and his wife had been guests in his very own home, had come to his family for help in a time of need. Surely their arrival had been a test, one he swore he would not fail.
“If I may be of any assistance whatsoever...” Lobus bowed his head, rather than kneeling again.
The Doctor’s face shone with gratitude.
“It would seem I have another task to complete here,” the Doctor offered, gesturing about the temple. “Since you asked so nicely, Caecilius, please get back to your home and look after Rose. Protect her. Keep her safe.”
But why would I need to... oh, of course.
Lobus knew the many stories of the gods falling in love with mortals; was Rose his human wife? Did she not know what he truly was? That would explain much.
“It would be my honour, your magnificence.”
“Just ‘Doctor,’” the Doctor reassured him. “And thank you.”
“Doctor, you may rest assured she will be safe in my household. Dorsuo and I will leave straight away!” Lobus exclaimed.
“Good man.”
But what of Quintus?
The Doctor smiled broadly at Quintus, then back at Lobus.
The boy would surely be safe in the Doctor’s care. Lobus departed the temple, casting one glance backward into the magnificence before setting off to fulfil his promise to the Doctor.
********************************************************************
Quintus had never paid heed to his parents’ beliefs beyond that which was required to keep harmony in the household. From the few times he’d seen Evelina since she had gone to train with the vestals, he knew that she took her duties with the utmost seriousness and devotion, and he respected her for that, but respect for his sister or even Vesta was one thing. Respect for the never-ending stream of minor deities or singular gods that some people worshipped was another thing altogether. Of late, he’d even heard a few of his fellow soldiers talking in whispers about some new god called Mithras; he hadn’t thought much of that either.
But to be here, and see what he had seen... had he been wrong all these years? Were some of those faithful right? Was all of it true?
His father rushed out of the room past him, off to look after the Doctor’s wife. If she of all people needed looking after, the task ahead of the Doctor must be a daunting one indeed.
And so he swallowed hard and stepped forward. “I’d like to help too,” he volunteered, “Whatever you need.”
The Doctor smiled gratefully, but not quite the same face the man (god?) had presented to his father.
Did he know what Quintus had been thinking, or what he’d done tonight?
“Quintus, I need two things from you.”
Here it comes.
“First, can you tell me if you’ve seen any objects like these in the Library tonight. While you were... investigating.”
The Doctor had produced a small cylindrical object with odd protrusions.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you certain? Would you like a closer look?”
The Doctor handed the item to him. It smelled faintly of... Quintus wasn’t sure what. But the smell was very distinct. And definitely one he’d smelled before, moving through the main area of the Library-Libo had been complaining about the odour, and Quintus had thought to ask his father about it in the morning. He had thought it might have been the effect of some substances being used in the construction of the expansions. Now he knew better.
The Doctor looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Seen, no. Smelt, yes, I think so. Quite a lot, actually.”
The Doctor’s expression changed to grim satisfaction. “Good, that’s good. Now, for the second thing. I need you to evacuate the Library.”
“There’s no-one here this time of night, except the Library guards, and they’re already off being questioned by the watch commander.”
“You’re sure there couldn’t be anyone else? Absolutely certain?”
“Just Father and Dorsuo, who are leaving now, and the other members of the city guard.”
“I need you to get everyone away from the Library. Other end of campus if you can manage it. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll do it now. I think I can get my friends in the squad to help.”
“Excellent. Now would be best.”
He offered Quintus his hand. Quintus hesitated, then shook it firmly.
He’d better get going. First things first, he should find Libo.
********************************************************************
Quintus clambered back towards the still-vacant offices just inside the western expansion, where Libo had told him Musca and Paetus were now guarding the bodies of the supposed looters. Apparently there’d been a general order to bring all the bodies inside so the sight of them wouldn’t cause a needless panic among the staff or the merchants who would arrive in the morning.
When Quintus had reported to his commander that there had been some sort of intruders at the Library, he’d never imagined it would come to this. He didn’t know who had ordered that they all be killed rather than taken prisoner. He certainly hadn’t been given that order, but he felt responsible just the same. Libo had said that there were even women among them.
Having seen that dead man earlier in whatever that room was, the man the Doctor had sent away, Quintus had the strong feeling that perhaps those people were meant to be here, and felt a fresh burst of regret. One thing was certain-with all of them dead, there was little chance of ever finding out what had been meant to happen.
As he neared the offices, he saw the very comforting and ordinary flickering of lantern light in the hall.
“Pontius, Atilia, it’s Caecilius! Where are you?”
No response. They needed to clean out their ears.
Quintus neared the office and tried again. “Oi, Musca, Paetus, it’s me, Quintus!”
He rounded the corner into the office and found his two friends standing stock still and at attention. They jumped at the sight of him-and looked absolutely petrified.
“Oh, thank the gods it’s you, Quintus! We didn’t know what to do!”
Quintus frowned, and pushed his way past his friends.
The room was completely empty.
“Paetus, I thought you two were supposed to be guarding the-”
“We were! We are! We have!” Paetus spat frantically.
“They vanished,” Musca hissed, “Just disappeared. We didn’t leave our posts for a moment.”
“Vanished?”
“I told you he wouldn’t believe us! No one’s going to believe us!” Paetus groaned.
“No, no, I believe you. I saw another vanish right before my eyes, clear on the other side of the Library. We need to leave right now.”
“What?” Paetus asked incredulously.
“You’re having us on, that’s not funny.” Musca grumbled.
“I’m serious, Musca.”
Musca shifted uncomfortably. “We can’t abandon our post, Quintus, not without being relieved.”
“Okay, then I’m relieving you. And then we’re going. It can be me that abandoned my post.”
“Quintus, no!” Paetus barked.
“Look, Musca, Paetus, I am telling you that the gods are at work here tonight, and we should leave them to their business.”
“Oh come off it,” Musca scoffed, “We know you don’t believe in the gods.”
“Do I look like I’m having you on?”
Paetus looked to Musca. “No, he really doesn’t.”
“Then shouldn’t that tell you something? We need to go now.”
Paetus was staring at Musca, and Musca looked nervously between him and Quintus.
“I suppose you’re right, we should at least go tell the commander what’s happened,” Musca conceded.
“Don’t need to ask me twice,” Paetus said gladly, “Let’s go.”
That was the last of the evacuations, then. Quintus only hoped he was giving the Doctor enough time to do whatever it was that he needed to do. Quintus knew he felt well unclean after tonight’s events.
Perhaps the Doctor needed to purify the Library.
********************************************************************
Rose paced agitatedly in the atrium of the Caecilius’ house, while Metella watched sympathetically. Metella had been trying to get her to go to sleep, or at least take a meal and patiently await the Doctor’s return, but how could Rose kick back and relax while the Doctor, Lobus, and Dorsuo were all still out in the streets of Alexandria?
“It is taking too long for them to get back.”
“Did you have any problems with retrieving your cabinet or bringing it here?” Metella asked.
“No,” Rose answered sullenly.
Metella sniffed. “There’s no need to be short with me, Rose.”
“You’re right, Metella, I’m sorry,” Rose said sincerely. “Everyone’s been a great help, thank you. But I feel like I should be going back there.”
“I suggest that we should give them a bit more time before assuming anything bad has happened,” Metella offered reasonably. “You said the city guard were at the Library. Perhaps the carriage was stopped so they might question our husbands, or our husbands stopped to ask questions themselves.”
Metella might well be right. Rose knew how long interrogations involving the Doctor on either end could take.
“I can’t just sit here not knowing. Not tonight.”
“Rose, my dear, I simply can’t let you go back out there alone. It’s no fit place for an unaccompanied woman at this hour.”
“Fusus and Tuditanus could take me,” Rose suggested.
“Fusus and Tuditanus are not going anywhere else tonight,” a voice called from the rear hallway.
“Lobus! You’re back!”
Metella smiled and dashed towards the entryway. Rose followed.
Lobus strode into the atrium, a broad smile on his face, with Dorsuo right behind him, who scooted past her and out into the courtyard. And the Doctor...
The Doctor was not with them.
Lobus looked at Rose, and his smile lost a bit of its lustre.
Metella folded her arms and frowned deeply at her husband. “You appear to be missing a passenger. Where is the Doctor?”
“He had us go ahead without him,” Lobus answered matter-of-factly.
“I beg your pardon?” Metella barked.
Lobus began smoothly, “Now, Metella, my love-”
“Don’t you ‘Metella, my love’ me, Lobus Caecilius Iucundus, Rose has been worrying herself sick about the Doctor and you and Dorsuo, and you come parading back in here without him and expect what sort of reception, may I ask?”
“He did give me very specific instructions to look after Rose-”
He what? That stupid son of a...
Rose pushed her way past a startled Metella and stomped out into the rear courtyard where the TARDIS was currently parked, on her way back through the house towards the carriage. Lobus followed, close on her heels, Metella close on his.
He called out to her reassuringly. “Rose, he simply had a project he needed to complete and saw no reason to detain us further.”
“Project? Lobus, what project could he possibly have at this hour?” Metella hooted.
Rose swung around to face Lobus. “If that was all there was to it, then why would he need you to look after me?”
Lobus shrank back, his hands raised in apology and eyes full of sympathy. And something more.
“What else did he say?” Rose asked.
The man looked like he was going to take a minute to come up with a likely story. Rose rolled her eyes. She saw Metella had come up behind Lobus, and Dorsuo now stood behind her, blocking the doorway back into the house.
Metella was staring a hole into the back of her husband’s head, then glanced distractedly at something over the top of it, past Rose. Lobus and Dorsuo were looking past her too.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
The TARDIS had been an attention-getter when she and the men had brought it into the house. Lobus hadn’t been with the moving crew to see it before, so of course he was goggling at it now.
“Yes, our cabinet is bright blue and has strange labels, I know,” Rose said, trying to be calmer with these people who’d gone out of their way to help her and the Doctor.
Lobus smiled sheepishly. “It is a rather striking piece of furniture, I must admit. I imagine you must receive many compliments on it.”
“You’d be surprised,” Rose added, smiling charmingly. “Please stop trying to change the subject.”
Metella stepped out into the courtyard. She was still staring at something behind Rose-but it wasn’t the TARDIS.
As Metella’s expression changed from bewilderment to alarm, Lobus’ gaze was pulled upward too. Dorsuo’s eyes widened in shock.
Rose whirled around to follow their line of sight. Just over the house’s second-story roofline was a growing orange-red glow in the sky. It was hours ‘til morning.
“By the gods, Lobus, what is that?” Metella gasped.
Rose didn’t need to hear Lobus’ answer, she knew it could be only one thing.
The Library. They’re burning the Library.
“I have to go. I have to go right now.”
“Rose, no, what good could you do-”
“I’m sure he’s fine-”
“Ma’am, you really should stay here-”
She looked down and saw Fusus standing in the rear of the courtyard, blocking her other exit. Rose turned on Lobus, feeling completely betrayed.
Lobus said firmly, “I promised the Doctor I would keep you safe, Rose, and surely you of all people know what it means to make him a promise.”
He looked past her again, and Rose whirled around. Tuditanus had joined Fusus at the rear exit of the courtyard. At least no-one’s carrying a sedation gun this time.
Sod what the Doctor had always said about being part of events, she had to find him.
Rose charged to the TARDIS and fished out her key. She flung the door open and darted inside.
Rose’s hand fell away from the door handle. She stepped slowly up the ramp, one foot in front of the other.
The console room was almost full from the underfloor to ceiling with carefully secured shelves and crates, each filled with scrolls and tablets of every kind.
Was this what the Doctor had been working on every time he’d gone back to the TARDIS?
Rose heard Metella’s muffled voice through the door. “Rose, sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but please come out of there and talk to us.”
Rose picked her way carefully past a few strays and to the controls. He’d left just enough room to pilot the ship.
She moved carefully around the stations, taking her time to carefully check and recheck each setting as she went. Moving the TARDIS in space only wasn’t nearly as hard as properly piloting her, but now was not the time to be making even a single mistake.
Rose leaned against the far edge of the console, staring in concentration at the monitor. It seemed like the TARDIS’ safeguards had no intention of letting her do what she was planning. Damn him, there must be some way around the roadblocks he’d set up. She faintly noted more baffled voices sounding just outside the door, and then a soft tapping on the TARDIS’ exterior.
“Rose,” Metella called, “I’m coming in.”
What?
Rose scarcely had time to register that she’d failed to close the door properly before Metella squeezed herself through the doorway, eyes closed and arms drawn in tightly, clearly expecting a snug fit. Rose fumbled around the console for the manual controls to the lights.
“Rose, it doesn’t help to...”
Metella trailed off as she opened her eyes. She must’ve realised that she had a lot more space around her than she’d been expecting.
The poor woman was, naturally, gobsmacked.
If the Doctor wasn’t gonna have my head before...
“Hi,” Rose said, at a loss for what else to say.
Rose heard the door creak and Lobus stepped in behind his wife, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
“Rose,” Lobus said in a church voice, “We’re sorry for intruding, but I meant what I said about that promise. I swore to aid him, and if the Doctor had us move this temple by mortal means then surely he meant for it to stay where it was placed.”
Lobus gave the console room a good long look, but seemed almost completely unsurprised by the TARDIS’ interior. “Mortal means?” What the hell was going on?
“But you... how...”
“I have seen your husband’s other temple, the one within the Library itself.”
The lab.
“How do you know this isn’t my temple?” Rose asked haughtily, drawing herself to her full height.
“Because he would hardly need to ask me to protect you if it were,” Lobus replied calmly.
Metella’s eyes were rimmed with red as she finished taking in the console room.
“Could we perhaps finish having this discussion outside, please?” she asked, her voice wavering.
“Of course, Metella,” Lobus said gently. He took his wife by the hand and led her back into the courtyard.
The TARDIS monitor still glowed with a lot of fancy words for no. Rose sighed, and switched it off, then followed her hosts out into the courtyard.
She’d have to find another way to help the Doctor.
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The Doctor ducked and dodged his way through the less book-heavy portions of the Library on the way to the western expansion, areas where the flames and smoke were least intense. Handy knowing where those newly-formed gaps in the collection were.
It had been quite simple in the end, really. Once the bioform scanner had registered no life signs within an acceptable perimeter of the Library (save yours truly), he’d triggered the ignition sequence of the canisters and finally, finally, the TOM had returned to its ordinary state of affairs.
Satisfactory, copacetic, felicitous, tickety-boo and blessedly silent.
It truly was a shame about the TOM and the rest of the lab having to go up with the Library. There were a few pieces he wouldn’t have minded borrowing on a permanent basis-even the magic loo. He’d had to make do with pocketing his comm roll; the technology wasn’t too far removed from the e-paper available in his and Rose’s day, but at the very least the notes ought to come in handy.
The tricky bit in all this, the part he’d not had time to calculate, was how long he was going to have to make his escape. His exit, stage left, was almost completely across the Library from the lab, but he could not risk any witnesses associating him with that carriage and delivery wagon that had gone past earlier.
Well, any witnesses besides Quintus, and he didn’t count.
There were two primary flaws in this course of action. First, the far western side of the expanded Library seemed to be rather farther away than even the Doctor had remembered.
And second, the Doctor didn’t remember smoke inhalation ever hurting quite this much on prior occasions. He contemplated whether it was the specific makeup of the accelerants, the composition of the particulate matter in the smoke, or some combination thereof that was making the difference.
Whatever it was, the wet bandanna around his mouth and nose was not cutting it right now. Bradbury’s Firemen had nothing on this lot.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Doctor came to the relatively papyrus-free border between the main Library and the western expansion, where the smoke was beginning to thin out. He picked up his pace, and noted with some curiosity that there were canisters scattered in this zone too, and they’d not gone off yet-why would they even plant them here at all?
The words stone tablets, of course and second stage of ignition passed through his mind just before the nearest canister went up in a white-hot conflagration and a fresh wave of heat hit him in the back. He stumbled forward, and it occurred to him that he probably ought to start carrying welder’s gloves in his jackets.
Enough of that-he needed to keep moving. Rose would kill him if he died.
The overwhelming heat was making it difficult to see, but through the renewed burning the Doctor could still make out a hint of fresh air, a continued source of oxygen ahead of him, getting closer, and closer still.
At last, the Doctor could make out the side landing of the library. He blearily noted that he really couldn’t count on making it down the steps without taking a hard face-first tumble, so he scuttled backwards down the steps, watching the great honking clouds of smoke pouring out of the Library.
Once out into the night, the Doctor staggered to his feet and leant forward on his knees. He began to cough in earnest, trying to clear the contaminants from his system.
The Doctor tried fuzzily to remember those old Venusian breathing techniques for getting oxygen quickly back into one’s system without risk of hyperventilating. He felt like he had bricks sitting on his chest, which would be a rather handy trick considering his current stance. He could feel himself starting to wobble unsteadily and rocked back on his heels.
Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down. Ha!
The Doctor was grateful he’d told Quintus to move everyone to the far side of the campus. That had been good advice-he should probably get some more distance himself. He lumbered along, continuing to expectorate as he went. Arms, legs, neck, head, nose, and last, hair. He felt gingerly at the tips, which didn’t seem to have been damaged. Not a lot, at any rate. He knew must look like one of those soot sprites from a Miyazaki film-certainly felt like one.
A fresh bout of coughing overtook him, and he looked around for some bit of shelter, somewhere he could rest, just for a minute. Just for a minute, and then back to his home-away-from-home and Rose. Just for a minute...
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“Princeps Prior, sir!”
Malleolus Equitius Calvus looked wearily to his second-in-command. The Royal Library was engulfed from beginning to end in flames the likes of which he’d ever seen, far beyond even trying to fight. The nearby residents of the city were turning out to gawk, meaning even more of his cohort had to be deployed here to keep onlookers a safe distance away. This was not a night in which he needed any further surprises.
“The Guard Commander reports the men have found someone near the Library, unconscious. They’ve fetched a litter and are bringing him here now.”
“Have him brought into the head librarian’s quarters, out of the sight of the public. As far as we knew the building had been completely emptied before this unholy fire began. I don’t want to give the people here any cause to believe otherwise.”
“Sir.”
Salonius hurried away.
Malleolus ran his hands slowly down his face. The Library had been completely emptied of anyone living, perhaps, but he knew there had been some confusion over what to do with the bodies of the intruders who had been killed earlier (and he was going to find out who had given that order). The bodies had evidently remained within the building, and been left to burn.
He was used to dealing with the younger, less experienced troops-his patience with them was why he’d been given this particular cohort to command-but how this could have happened right under their very nose...
Malleolus busied himself with other tasks about this end of the campus, but his mind rested squarely on the identity of the man his troops had found.
He soon found himself apologising to yet another senior researcher about the disruptions to the campus (shouldn’t the man be worried about the Library?), when Salonius made sure to catch his eye. Salonius smoothly introduced himself to the researcher and explained away the Centurion’s need to depart.
Malleolus made his way down the corridor leading to the head librarian’s quarters, which the man had sensibly turned over to the investigation almost without prompting.
He nodded to the young man guarding the door and strode into his makeshift point of command. The guard commander was there, his expression grim.
“Don’t tell me we’ve ‘lost’ another potential witness, Laelius,” Malleolus spat.
“No, sir, we have not. Save his state of unconsciousness, he seems relatively unharmed for his proximity to the... event.”
“Then let me see him.”
“Of course, sir.”
Laelius gestured to the bed tucked in the corner of the room. The guards parted, and Malleolus swept the curtain aside.
In the man’s state, it was hard to tell whether he was young or old, Egyptian, Roman, Greek, or Jew, or anything else. What was easy to see was that he was covered from head to foot in charred bits of papyrus and other residue, and had a sampling of cuts and abrasions on his hands and face.
Laelius came up behind him. “Sir, I thought it best we leave him as he was until you could see him for yourself.”
“Well done, Laelius,” Malleolus answered distractedly, “but I’d like to see who we’re dealing with.”
Laelius signalled to two of the other guards in the room, who dashed off to procure the items necessary to clean this man up so Malleolus could have a good look at his face.
“Should I send for a surgeon, sir?”
“No, but have one of them ready for when we bring him to the jail.”
Laelius had a good head on his shoulders. Malleolus could see they must both be thinking the same thing: this man had clearly escaped the fire, a fire which hadn’t even started before the building had been made empty... what else could this possibly mean?
This man, whomever he was, had almost certainly burnt down the Royal Library of Alexandria.
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Rose had been beginning to think that the only luck she was capable of having was bad luck, until Quintus had returned to his family’s home. He’d quickly filled them in with all the information he could give on the situation at the Library.
Quintus had been sent home to rest on orders of his watch commander, along with the other members of his squad (cohort, platoon, whatever) who had been on duty earlier in the day. This Laelius wanted fresh troops for the day, which meant that the headcount would only get higher the longer they waited.
After Quintus had told his parents of what he’d seen at the Library, how the dead man he and his father had seen transported away was far from the only one slain by the guards that night, they’d reluctantly agreed to let Rose go back to the scene, with Quintus, Tuditanus and Fusus accompanying her.
Quintus hadn't come right out and said it, but it seemed he thought it was the Doctor who had set off the fire. But that couldn't be right. Why would Quintus be helping if he even imagined that was true? He didn't seem the type to be fancying that any of this was some sort of divine act, regardless of what he'd witnessed.
Metella and Lobus were to work from here on arrangements to get the Doctor and Rose out of the city in the morning. As big an event as this fire was, Alexandria was a vital trade city and there would still be ships of all sorts coming and going as normal. If the Doctor was unconscious or injured, he might be in no condition to release the lockouts he must’ve set on the TARDIS controls. They’d need a way to make an immediate escape without using her to do so.
Rose thought that given enough time she might be able to figure out a way to get the TARDIS to release her controls, and a nice long sail to some neutral port would give her the chance to work on it.
At Lobus’ recommendation, Rose had changed into a toga, much to Metella’s chagrin and the extreme confusion of Licina and Sura. She wasn’t happy about being dressed like a member of the world’s oldest profession, but if she were seen it would help to explain to the casual onlooker just why she was out at this hour of the night in the company of men.
Quintus had changed out of his uniform into some old clothes Metella had saved for him. Seeing the getup, Rose wasn’t sure why she was the one scandalising the household-Quintus’ arse was practically hanging out, and even he seemed embarrassed by the shortness of his tunic.
The family carriage moved along the streets, swaying a bit more now that they had a full load. Dorsuo was about to drop them off a safe distance from the Library’s campus.
Rose fingered the small set of binoculars and black knit skullcap she’d retrieved from the TARDIS before they headed out. She was far more willing to take chances with the Romans getting their hands on a smashed-up set of optics they couldn’t reproduce than she was with the Doctor’s life-or anyone else’s. If she couldn’t get a good look at what was going on, it might cost them the only shot they had at getting the Doctor out without any casualties.
The carriage stopped abruptly. Dorsuo got down and came around to the door, hissing “I’d best let you all out, Master Quintus. I’ll be waiting for you here.”
As he handed Rose out of the carriage, he murmured to Rose “Please be careful, ma’am.”
“We will.”
Quintus guided her, Fusus and Tuditanus through the last few remaining streets to just outside the edges of the Library’s campus, while Rose stuffed her hair under the black cap. Quintus clambered up onto the roof of a vacant building, and Fusus helped Rose to join him up top.
From here, they had a clear view into the campus. Rose pulled out her binoculars, and Quintus gave her a befuddled glance, but kept his mouth shut.
She could see that the flames at the Library were starting to die down now-the fire had burned fast-but what remained was still enough to illuminate the campus fairly effectively. Even here there was some haze and a light rain of ash, and Rose could see ash had blanketed the campus too. A few toga-wearing men were shuffling back and forth between the remaining buildings, but far and away the majority of the people visible on the campus were soldiers.
A lot of soldiers. Rose started counting, and stopped after she hit 60, most of them fully attentive and armed to the teeth. They must’ve called in another group after Quintus and his lot were sent home.
Quintus looked totally perplexed.
Oh, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Rose handed him the binoculars. He looked through the optics and gasped. After a moment fiddling with the focus, he took a look too.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered, “but there are probably half again as many soldiers in the buildings themselves. I don’t see how we can get onto the campus without being caught, much less get there and find wherever they’ve put the Doctor, fetch him, and get back out again.”
Rose felt her eyes burning, and not from the foul air. She would not cry in front of Quintus. She wouldn’t.
“Here, you should have these back.”
She took the binoculars from Quintus, and checked again herself.
He was right, there were far too many of them to even attempt a rescue. She couldn’t risk it.“Let’s get back to Dorsuo, then.”
Quintus helped her down, then followed. He nudged Rose, and she removed her cap, tucking it back away with the binoculars. The group walked in silence back to the carriage, and Dorsuo looked sad but unsurprised to see them return so soon.
Tuditanus helped her up into the carriage, then the rest of the men followed. As soon as the carriage was underway, she spoke.
“What are our options now?”
“Our best chance is probably to get him out of the city jail in the morning. There are at least three of my mates who could and probably would help us talk our way in and out of there.”
“But won’t the staff at the jail know you all? I can’t ask you to put yourselves in that kind of jeopardy.”
“For the Doctor, I would do it. And with what they’ve seen tonight, so would my friends. There have been so many contradictory or unusual orders, I don’t know that the average soldier will be any less confused come the morning.”
“We can use that. Say it was a standing order from tonight or something?”
“Exactly.”
Silence fell over the carriage again, and Rose listened to the clopping of the horses’ hooves as they made their way home.
********************************************************************
Every once in a great while these situations had a way of working themselves out, he supposed.
The Doctor lay with his head cradled on Rose’s legs, gazing up at her alluring visage. She was sitting tailor-fashion, and her hair was still up in that loose chignon, none the worse for wear. Even better, she was still clad in the whisper-soft, draped garb Metella had given her. Rose was alternating weaving her fingers through his hair with tracing the outlines of his sideburns up and down in a long, soothing pattern. The sun dappled through the trees overhead as the cart rocked to and fro underneath them. She was smiling down at him in the most intriguing way, but they couldn’t possibly be alone-someone had to be driving this thing, didn’t they?
Ah, well, some things were well worth waiting for. He hummed contentedly and nuzzled into her hand.
That was unexpectedly scratchy.
He leaned his head back, and saw that Rose’s hands were now covered in woolen mittens. She was still beaming down at him, though. Must’ve gotten a bit nippy, that’s all. He relaxed and closed his eyes and tried not to mind as she kept brushing her hands along his face despite the mittens.
They kept moving along this slow, peaceful country lane for a while. And after said while, he had to face facts: the smell of lanolin was really starting to get him. That, and the smell of the horses.
Be fair, it is a cart. Would you rather have eau de oxen?
Lanolin, horses, and... smoke? No, not smoke.
Post-combustion byproducts. Or maybe a paper mill?
Eurgh. A detour was definitely in order.
He reached for Rose’s mittened hand-or tried to. For some reason he couldn’t quite manage it.
The Doctor didn’t mind a bit of horseplay under the right circumstances, but Rose did seem to have him pinned down rather effectively.
“Rose, would you mind?” he chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise, I just want to ask the driver...”
Ooh, his throat was a bit rough.
He tried to reach for her again, tugging harder this time. He couldn’t move his arm. Or arms. Either of them.
Rose’s grip on his wrists felt like a vise. This wasn’t so funny anymore.
A rush of those smells hit him again (so acrid, where were they coming from?) and he opened his eyes.
Rose was above him still, her ash-streaked face paler than the marble in Caecilius’ workshop. Wisps of smoke rose from singed spots scattered through her hair and clothing. Her eyes were sad-no, emptied-and if anyone was pinning him down, it couldn’t be Rose. Her arms hung limply at her sides now, and her head and body lolled loosely with every movement of the cart, almost as if she were...
The cart jolted sharply, and she fell backwards and away from him, out of his sight.
“Rose? Rose?!”
The Doctor struggled desperately now against whatever was binding him. He tried to look down, but he couldn’t seem to crane his head enough to see.
The cart jumped again, and his head struck the-
The Doctor woke with a start and a rattling breath. His lungs felt like they’d been sandblasted and his throat was even worse.
He felt another jolt pass underneath him. He... was on the floor in the back of some sort of carriage. A carriage, a very swiftly-moving one based on the roughness of the ride. His head was barely cushioned by what felt like a bundled-up cloak, and he was indeed bound from head to toe.
Thank you, he thought to the universe, as he blinked away hot tears, Rose is alive, she’s not here, she’s alive, she’s not here, Rose is alive.
The Doctor fought back a sob of relief, and tried to calm his galloping heartbeat. Now that he had some idea of where he was, or more importantly, where he wasn’t, it was time to take stock.
The Doctor could hear the mixture of sounds of the road going by, and moved his head as best as his restraints allowed. He could see the sizeable calves and feet of what he gathered was a soldier, facing out the open doorway of the wagon.
The cloak protecting his head was impregnated with lanolin? Check. Red? Hard to tell in this light, but likely.
Trussed up like a Christmas turkey? Check. Room for anyone besides him and the one guard? Not really.
Judging from the particular flavour of the sting of the tears still rolling down his cheeks, his face had been wiped clean, but not in an especially delicate fashion. Probably for identification purposes, then.
Speaking of flavours, he could still taste the smoke from the Library, feel its ashes in his mouth, which meant it couldn’t have been that long since he’d been taken into custody. Based on the speed at which they were travelling, and the amount of lantern light going past outside, he’d guess they were somewhere along the Boulevard Argeus.
He could see the foot of the soldier start to turn back into the carriage. Best to let him think he was still out cold. The Doctor relaxed against his restraints.
The carriage continued moving along and the soldier bumped at his feet as he settled, quite possibly trying to get some sort of rise out of his prisoner.
Playing possum wasn’t usually the Doctor’s style, but it seemed like the wise choice for the moment.
On the other hand, the stupid carelessness which had put him in this position was just his style, far too often. That was ultimately why he hadn’t trusted himself to protect Rose from the consequences of his decisions, and turned the matter of her safety over to a friendly near-stranger instead of relying on himself.
And the sorts of decisions he’d made today, the bitter, hard ones, were the type Rose had had to make far too often on his account over the past several years, when she never should have had to be making them at all.
He’d be damned if he was going to force her into them now.
She didn’t often talk about the time they’d spent apart, or just how she’d spent her years hopping universes in search of him. Rose seemed to prefer letting the past fade away in favour of making a better future, which had certainly benefitted him in more ways than he could count. If only...
There was a loud rapping on the carriage wall, and the Doctor jerked a little. He stifled any further reaction, and hoped the guard hadn’t noticed.
“We’re almost there, Geganius,” the carriage driver bellowed, “Look lively, and be ready to move the prisoner.”
The soldier stirred, and the Doctor felt his guard step over him, back into the open doorway. There was a creaking sound, as if someone were supporting himself against the door’s frame. Was the soldier turning around?
A swift, brutal kick to his thigh sent a stabbing pain clear through the Doctor. He gasped sharply, flinching at the blow, his eyes flying open.
“You awake now, you little bastard? How stupid do you think I am?” Geganius growled.
The Doctor looked up into the scowling face of his custodian and nodded slowly and carefully. Geganius shoved his way back to his seat, not even making a pretence at delicacy now.
If this was indicative of the sort of treatment he was going to receive...
Oh who was he fooling? As this was the gentlest treatment he could probably expect to receive, that he was not looking forward to being a guest of the Roman Empire was an epic understatement.
Still, as Cicero had said fairly recently, while there’s life, there’s hope. He hadn’t been put to the sword straight away, (unlike the others) so that was at least something.
Something good? That he doubted highly.
He laid back and tried not to let the ugly scenarios playing out rapid-fire in his head overwhelm him as the carriage rumbled the short distance remaining toward its destination.
********************************************************************
Mallelous watched as Lucius Laberius Maximus, Prefect of Alexandria, loomed over the prisoner, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. The criminal was bound and seated, and had been gagged for good measure.
That the Prefect would deign to review a prisoner himself would be exceedingly rare, but to have a prisoner brought before him? At any other time, Malleolus would expect this would mean the man’s immediate execution. Not today, it would seem.
The Prefect had been angrily addressing the prisoner for quite some time, perhaps looking for some clue in his reactions.
“The Senate should not imagine they can get away with this latest attempt to undermine the Emperor’s position,” the Prefect spat as he tread back and forth before the prisoner, continuing to vent his rage. “That is why you must be sent back to Rome, so you may be tried where all may see and know of the Senate’s scheming.”
Assuming the Prefect's supposition was correct, the Senate had chosen their demon well. He'd given nothing away thus far. Almost nothing. After some judiciously applied pressure, he had given them his name, but it wasn’t even a proper name-simply a title. Malleolus would’ve thought the man’s spirit had fled his body shortly after he’d been confined in his solitary cell, had he not seen the fear in this Doctor’s eyes this morning when the guards had been preparing him for delivery, and he’d been told exactly whom he was being taken to see.
“Equitius, what was the name of the soldier who brought this heinous and unprovoked assault on the Emperor’s Library to your attention?”
“Quintus Caecilius Iucundus, sir.”
“He will go with you. Set him to ensure the prisoner’s well-being during the voyage. We wouldn’t want any misfortune to befall the Doctor before he can offer his testimony.”
“I am certain he will be glad of the honour, sir.”
“As well he should be. Equitius, I require this Doctor to be alive and in reasonable condition when he arrives in Rome.”
The Prefect looked the Doctor up and down appraisingly, then waved him off with a derisive sneer. “Such as his condition may be. We can hardly be held responsible for his state before he was taken into custody.”
Malleolus eyed his men carefully. “Take him to the holding cell here at once. Any sustenance is to be tasted before giving it to the prisoner. No-one may see or speak to him other than you, myself, and the Prefect.”
Malleolus watched his men take the Doctor away.
“Be sure to keep the prisoner in complete isolation while preparations are made-he must not be allowed to get a warning to his masters. I will see to it that your ship has the freshest men available.”
Mallelolus saluted, then followed his men out the door, and away from the steady gaze of the Prefect.
He didn’t envy young Caecilius one bit.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 7.1
Author: principia_coh
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Waylaid en route to a holiday, the Doctor and Rose encounter unexpected wonders... and new dangers.
Author’s notes: Thanks to ginamak and leighleighla for their excellent and patient beta work!
Episode 9 of a virtual series at the_altverse, following The Wretched Hive last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6.1
------------------------------------------------------------------
A multitude of glittering lights danced and skipped between the wondrous objects displayed in this temple. Mysterious notes resonated throughout the space, forming an unfathomable song.
Such wonders Lobus had never in all the years of his life dreamed he might be privileged to witness-and at the centre of it all stood The Doctor Spartacus, clearly a servitor of the gods. Or perhaps he was truly Virbius himself!
The Doctor looked up from his task and upon both Lobus and Quintus, then turned to one of the relics, whose colours fixed and began to pulse. He clutched his head as if in terrible agony.
What should we do? Lobus looked to Quintus, who was staring... at the sight of a body in repose on a second altar?
Gods, had they interrupted a sacred ceremony?
The Doctor jumped, and returned to working frenetically on the relics before him, waving a small stone wand tipped with a luminous blue stone-which itself made softly trilling sounds-over the objects.
Beside him on the altar was a large, unfurled scroll etched with incomprehensible symbols that danced as the Doctor’s fingers skimmed across the scroll’s surface.
Lobus and Quintus watched raptly as the Doctor continued his endeavour. It might have been seconds or minutes later that he finished, but he leapt across the room to place one of the relics, a small box, on the chest of the body. The Doctor sadly regarded the man at rest-for only a moment-then bolted back to the altar. Was he about to complete the ritual?
The Doctor spun and aimed his wand in turn at several of the relics, which increased the strange music each time.
The paean raised to a height almost beyond hearing, and the man laid atop the smaller altar vanished.
The Doctor’s features were still pinched with pain, but he appeared to be at least slightly relieved. Relieved, or resolved.
Lobus dropped to his knees, and to his astonishment, Quintus did the same without prompting.
Somehow, Lobus managed to find his voice. “Doctor, we beg your forgiveness for our intrusion!”
The Doctor peered at the two of them for a long moment, as if he’d forgot they were even present, then spoke as he rushed over to them.
“Now, now, no begging, nothing to forgive!” the Doctor said energetically.
The Doctor actually helped him and Quintus to their feet. The Doctor twitched slightly and cast a glance back at the large relic, which continued its display.
The Doctor and his wife had been guests in his very own home, had come to his family for help in a time of need. Surely their arrival had been a test, one he swore he would not fail.
“If I may be of any assistance whatsoever...” Lobus bowed his head, rather than kneeling again.
The Doctor’s face shone with gratitude.
“It would seem I have another task to complete here,” the Doctor offered, gesturing about the temple. “Since you asked so nicely, Caecilius, please get back to your home and look after Rose. Protect her. Keep her safe.”
But why would I need to... oh, of course.
Lobus knew the many stories of the gods falling in love with mortals; was Rose his human wife? Did she not know what he truly was? That would explain much.
“It would be my honour, your magnificence.”
“Just ‘Doctor,’” the Doctor reassured him. “And thank you.”
“Doctor, you may rest assured she will be safe in my household. Dorsuo and I will leave straight away!” Lobus exclaimed.
“Good man.”
But what of Quintus?
The Doctor smiled broadly at Quintus, then back at Lobus.
The boy would surely be safe in the Doctor’s care. Lobus departed the temple, casting one glance backward into the magnificence before setting off to fulfil his promise to the Doctor.
********************************************************************
Quintus had never paid heed to his parents’ beliefs beyond that which was required to keep harmony in the household. From the few times he’d seen Evelina since she had gone to train with the vestals, he knew that she took her duties with the utmost seriousness and devotion, and he respected her for that, but respect for his sister or even Vesta was one thing. Respect for the never-ending stream of minor deities or singular gods that some people worshipped was another thing altogether. Of late, he’d even heard a few of his fellow soldiers talking in whispers about some new god called Mithras; he hadn’t thought much of that either.
But to be here, and see what he had seen... had he been wrong all these years? Were some of those faithful right? Was all of it true?
His father rushed out of the room past him, off to look after the Doctor’s wife. If she of all people needed looking after, the task ahead of the Doctor must be a daunting one indeed.
And so he swallowed hard and stepped forward. “I’d like to help too,” he volunteered, “Whatever you need.”
The Doctor smiled gratefully, but not quite the same face the man (god?) had presented to his father.
Did he know what Quintus had been thinking, or what he’d done tonight?
“Quintus, I need two things from you.”
Here it comes.
“First, can you tell me if you’ve seen any objects like these in the Library tonight. While you were... investigating.”
The Doctor had produced a small cylindrical object with odd protrusions.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you certain? Would you like a closer look?”
The Doctor handed the item to him. It smelled faintly of... Quintus wasn’t sure what. But the smell was very distinct. And definitely one he’d smelled before, moving through the main area of the Library-Libo had been complaining about the odour, and Quintus had thought to ask his father about it in the morning. He had thought it might have been the effect of some substances being used in the construction of the expansions. Now he knew better.
The Doctor looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Seen, no. Smelt, yes, I think so. Quite a lot, actually.”
The Doctor’s expression changed to grim satisfaction. “Good, that’s good. Now, for the second thing. I need you to evacuate the Library.”
“There’s no-one here this time of night, except the Library guards, and they’re already off being questioned by the watch commander.”
“You’re sure there couldn’t be anyone else? Absolutely certain?”
“Just Father and Dorsuo, who are leaving now, and the other members of the city guard.”
“I need you to get everyone away from the Library. Other end of campus if you can manage it. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll do it now. I think I can get my friends in the squad to help.”
“Excellent. Now would be best.”
He offered Quintus his hand. Quintus hesitated, then shook it firmly.
He’d better get going. First things first, he should find Libo.
********************************************************************
Quintus clambered back towards the still-vacant offices just inside the western expansion, where Libo had told him Musca and Paetus were now guarding the bodies of the supposed looters. Apparently there’d been a general order to bring all the bodies inside so the sight of them wouldn’t cause a needless panic among the staff or the merchants who would arrive in the morning.
When Quintus had reported to his commander that there had been some sort of intruders at the Library, he’d never imagined it would come to this. He didn’t know who had ordered that they all be killed rather than taken prisoner. He certainly hadn’t been given that order, but he felt responsible just the same. Libo had said that there were even women among them.
Having seen that dead man earlier in whatever that room was, the man the Doctor had sent away, Quintus had the strong feeling that perhaps those people were meant to be here, and felt a fresh burst of regret. One thing was certain-with all of them dead, there was little chance of ever finding out what had been meant to happen.
As he neared the offices, he saw the very comforting and ordinary flickering of lantern light in the hall.
“Pontius, Atilia, it’s Caecilius! Where are you?”
No response. They needed to clean out their ears.
Quintus neared the office and tried again. “Oi, Musca, Paetus, it’s me, Quintus!”
He rounded the corner into the office and found his two friends standing stock still and at attention. They jumped at the sight of him-and looked absolutely petrified.
“Oh, thank the gods it’s you, Quintus! We didn’t know what to do!”
Quintus frowned, and pushed his way past his friends.
The room was completely empty.
“Paetus, I thought you two were supposed to be guarding the-”
“We were! We are! We have!” Paetus spat frantically.
“They vanished,” Musca hissed, “Just disappeared. We didn’t leave our posts for a moment.”
“Vanished?”
“I told you he wouldn’t believe us! No one’s going to believe us!” Paetus groaned.
“No, no, I believe you. I saw another vanish right before my eyes, clear on the other side of the Library. We need to leave right now.”
“What?” Paetus asked incredulously.
“You’re having us on, that’s not funny.” Musca grumbled.
“I’m serious, Musca.”
Musca shifted uncomfortably. “We can’t abandon our post, Quintus, not without being relieved.”
“Okay, then I’m relieving you. And then we’re going. It can be me that abandoned my post.”
“Quintus, no!” Paetus barked.
“Look, Musca, Paetus, I am telling you that the gods are at work here tonight, and we should leave them to their business.”
“Oh come off it,” Musca scoffed, “We know you don’t believe in the gods.”
“Do I look like I’m having you on?”
Paetus looked to Musca. “No, he really doesn’t.”
“Then shouldn’t that tell you something? We need to go now.”
Paetus was staring at Musca, and Musca looked nervously between him and Quintus.
“I suppose you’re right, we should at least go tell the commander what’s happened,” Musca conceded.
“Don’t need to ask me twice,” Paetus said gladly, “Let’s go.”
That was the last of the evacuations, then. Quintus only hoped he was giving the Doctor enough time to do whatever it was that he needed to do. Quintus knew he felt well unclean after tonight’s events.
Perhaps the Doctor needed to purify the Library.
********************************************************************
Rose paced agitatedly in the atrium of the Caecilius’ house, while Metella watched sympathetically. Metella had been trying to get her to go to sleep, or at least take a meal and patiently await the Doctor’s return, but how could Rose kick back and relax while the Doctor, Lobus, and Dorsuo were all still out in the streets of Alexandria?
“It is taking too long for them to get back.”
“Did you have any problems with retrieving your cabinet or bringing it here?” Metella asked.
“No,” Rose answered sullenly.
Metella sniffed. “There’s no need to be short with me, Rose.”
“You’re right, Metella, I’m sorry,” Rose said sincerely. “Everyone’s been a great help, thank you. But I feel like I should be going back there.”
“I suggest that we should give them a bit more time before assuming anything bad has happened,” Metella offered reasonably. “You said the city guard were at the Library. Perhaps the carriage was stopped so they might question our husbands, or our husbands stopped to ask questions themselves.”
Metella might well be right. Rose knew how long interrogations involving the Doctor on either end could take.
“I can’t just sit here not knowing. Not tonight.”
“Rose, my dear, I simply can’t let you go back out there alone. It’s no fit place for an unaccompanied woman at this hour.”
“Fusus and Tuditanus could take me,” Rose suggested.
“Fusus and Tuditanus are not going anywhere else tonight,” a voice called from the rear hallway.
“Lobus! You’re back!”
Metella smiled and dashed towards the entryway. Rose followed.
Lobus strode into the atrium, a broad smile on his face, with Dorsuo right behind him, who scooted past her and out into the courtyard. And the Doctor...
The Doctor was not with them.
Lobus looked at Rose, and his smile lost a bit of its lustre.
Metella folded her arms and frowned deeply at her husband. “You appear to be missing a passenger. Where is the Doctor?”
“He had us go ahead without him,” Lobus answered matter-of-factly.
“I beg your pardon?” Metella barked.
Lobus began smoothly, “Now, Metella, my love-”
“Don’t you ‘Metella, my love’ me, Lobus Caecilius Iucundus, Rose has been worrying herself sick about the Doctor and you and Dorsuo, and you come parading back in here without him and expect what sort of reception, may I ask?”
“He did give me very specific instructions to look after Rose-”
He what? That stupid son of a...
Rose pushed her way past a startled Metella and stomped out into the rear courtyard where the TARDIS was currently parked, on her way back through the house towards the carriage. Lobus followed, close on her heels, Metella close on his.
He called out to her reassuringly. “Rose, he simply had a project he needed to complete and saw no reason to detain us further.”
“Project? Lobus, what project could he possibly have at this hour?” Metella hooted.
Rose swung around to face Lobus. “If that was all there was to it, then why would he need you to look after me?”
Lobus shrank back, his hands raised in apology and eyes full of sympathy. And something more.
“What else did he say?” Rose asked.
The man looked like he was going to take a minute to come up with a likely story. Rose rolled her eyes. She saw Metella had come up behind Lobus, and Dorsuo now stood behind her, blocking the doorway back into the house.
Metella was staring a hole into the back of her husband’s head, then glanced distractedly at something over the top of it, past Rose. Lobus and Dorsuo were looking past her too.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
The TARDIS had been an attention-getter when she and the men had brought it into the house. Lobus hadn’t been with the moving crew to see it before, so of course he was goggling at it now.
“Yes, our cabinet is bright blue and has strange labels, I know,” Rose said, trying to be calmer with these people who’d gone out of their way to help her and the Doctor.
Lobus smiled sheepishly. “It is a rather striking piece of furniture, I must admit. I imagine you must receive many compliments on it.”
“You’d be surprised,” Rose added, smiling charmingly. “Please stop trying to change the subject.”
Metella stepped out into the courtyard. She was still staring at something behind Rose-but it wasn’t the TARDIS.
As Metella’s expression changed from bewilderment to alarm, Lobus’ gaze was pulled upward too. Dorsuo’s eyes widened in shock.
Rose whirled around to follow their line of sight. Just over the house’s second-story roofline was a growing orange-red glow in the sky. It was hours ‘til morning.
“By the gods, Lobus, what is that?” Metella gasped.
Rose didn’t need to hear Lobus’ answer, she knew it could be only one thing.
The Library. They’re burning the Library.
“I have to go. I have to go right now.”
“Rose, no, what good could you do-”
“I’m sure he’s fine-”
“Ma’am, you really should stay here-”
She looked down and saw Fusus standing in the rear of the courtyard, blocking her other exit. Rose turned on Lobus, feeling completely betrayed.
Lobus said firmly, “I promised the Doctor I would keep you safe, Rose, and surely you of all people know what it means to make him a promise.”
He looked past her again, and Rose whirled around. Tuditanus had joined Fusus at the rear exit of the courtyard. At least no-one’s carrying a sedation gun this time.
Sod what the Doctor had always said about being part of events, she had to find him.
Rose charged to the TARDIS and fished out her key. She flung the door open and darted inside.
Rose’s hand fell away from the door handle. She stepped slowly up the ramp, one foot in front of the other.
The console room was almost full from the underfloor to ceiling with carefully secured shelves and crates, each filled with scrolls and tablets of every kind.
Was this what the Doctor had been working on every time he’d gone back to the TARDIS?
Rose heard Metella’s muffled voice through the door. “Rose, sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but please come out of there and talk to us.”
Rose picked her way carefully past a few strays and to the controls. He’d left just enough room to pilot the ship.
She moved carefully around the stations, taking her time to carefully check and recheck each setting as she went. Moving the TARDIS in space only wasn’t nearly as hard as properly piloting her, but now was not the time to be making even a single mistake.
Rose leaned against the far edge of the console, staring in concentration at the monitor. It seemed like the TARDIS’ safeguards had no intention of letting her do what she was planning. Damn him, there must be some way around the roadblocks he’d set up. She faintly noted more baffled voices sounding just outside the door, and then a soft tapping on the TARDIS’ exterior.
“Rose,” Metella called, “I’m coming in.”
What?
Rose scarcely had time to register that she’d failed to close the door properly before Metella squeezed herself through the doorway, eyes closed and arms drawn in tightly, clearly expecting a snug fit. Rose fumbled around the console for the manual controls to the lights.
“Rose, it doesn’t help to...”
Metella trailed off as she opened her eyes. She must’ve realised that she had a lot more space around her than she’d been expecting.
The poor woman was, naturally, gobsmacked.
If the Doctor wasn’t gonna have my head before...
“Hi,” Rose said, at a loss for what else to say.
Rose heard the door creak and Lobus stepped in behind his wife, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
“Rose,” Lobus said in a church voice, “We’re sorry for intruding, but I meant what I said about that promise. I swore to aid him, and if the Doctor had us move this temple by mortal means then surely he meant for it to stay where it was placed.”
Lobus gave the console room a good long look, but seemed almost completely unsurprised by the TARDIS’ interior. “Mortal means?” What the hell was going on?
“But you... how...”
“I have seen your husband’s other temple, the one within the Library itself.”
The lab.
“How do you know this isn’t my temple?” Rose asked haughtily, drawing herself to her full height.
“Because he would hardly need to ask me to protect you if it were,” Lobus replied calmly.
Metella’s eyes were rimmed with red as she finished taking in the console room.
“Could we perhaps finish having this discussion outside, please?” she asked, her voice wavering.
“Of course, Metella,” Lobus said gently. He took his wife by the hand and led her back into the courtyard.
The TARDIS monitor still glowed with a lot of fancy words for no. Rose sighed, and switched it off, then followed her hosts out into the courtyard.
She’d have to find another way to help the Doctor.
********************************************************************
The Doctor ducked and dodged his way through the less book-heavy portions of the Library on the way to the western expansion, areas where the flames and smoke were least intense. Handy knowing where those newly-formed gaps in the collection were.
It had been quite simple in the end, really. Once the bioform scanner had registered no life signs within an acceptable perimeter of the Library (save yours truly), he’d triggered the ignition sequence of the canisters and finally, finally, the TOM had returned to its ordinary state of affairs.
Satisfactory, copacetic, felicitous, tickety-boo and blessedly silent.
It truly was a shame about the TOM and the rest of the lab having to go up with the Library. There were a few pieces he wouldn’t have minded borrowing on a permanent basis-even the magic loo. He’d had to make do with pocketing his comm roll; the technology wasn’t too far removed from the e-paper available in his and Rose’s day, but at the very least the notes ought to come in handy.
The tricky bit in all this, the part he’d not had time to calculate, was how long he was going to have to make his escape. His exit, stage left, was almost completely across the Library from the lab, but he could not risk any witnesses associating him with that carriage and delivery wagon that had gone past earlier.
Well, any witnesses besides Quintus, and he didn’t count.
There were two primary flaws in this course of action. First, the far western side of the expanded Library seemed to be rather farther away than even the Doctor had remembered.
And second, the Doctor didn’t remember smoke inhalation ever hurting quite this much on prior occasions. He contemplated whether it was the specific makeup of the accelerants, the composition of the particulate matter in the smoke, or some combination thereof that was making the difference.
Whatever it was, the wet bandanna around his mouth and nose was not cutting it right now. Bradbury’s Firemen had nothing on this lot.
After what seemed like an eternity, the Doctor came to the relatively papyrus-free border between the main Library and the western expansion, where the smoke was beginning to thin out. He picked up his pace, and noted with some curiosity that there were canisters scattered in this zone too, and they’d not gone off yet-why would they even plant them here at all?
The words stone tablets, of course and second stage of ignition passed through his mind just before the nearest canister went up in a white-hot conflagration and a fresh wave of heat hit him in the back. He stumbled forward, and it occurred to him that he probably ought to start carrying welder’s gloves in his jackets.
Enough of that-he needed to keep moving. Rose would kill him if he died.
The overwhelming heat was making it difficult to see, but through the renewed burning the Doctor could still make out a hint of fresh air, a continued source of oxygen ahead of him, getting closer, and closer still.
At last, the Doctor could make out the side landing of the library. He blearily noted that he really couldn’t count on making it down the steps without taking a hard face-first tumble, so he scuttled backwards down the steps, watching the great honking clouds of smoke pouring out of the Library.
Once out into the night, the Doctor staggered to his feet and leant forward on his knees. He began to cough in earnest, trying to clear the contaminants from his system.
The Doctor tried fuzzily to remember those old Venusian breathing techniques for getting oxygen quickly back into one’s system without risk of hyperventilating. He felt like he had bricks sitting on his chest, which would be a rather handy trick considering his current stance. He could feel himself starting to wobble unsteadily and rocked back on his heels.
Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down. Ha!
The Doctor was grateful he’d told Quintus to move everyone to the far side of the campus. That had been good advice-he should probably get some more distance himself. He lumbered along, continuing to expectorate as he went. Arms, legs, neck, head, nose, and last, hair. He felt gingerly at the tips, which didn’t seem to have been damaged. Not a lot, at any rate. He knew must look like one of those soot sprites from a Miyazaki film-certainly felt like one.
A fresh bout of coughing overtook him, and he looked around for some bit of shelter, somewhere he could rest, just for a minute. Just for a minute, and then back to his home-away-from-home and Rose. Just for a minute...
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“Princeps Prior, sir!”
Malleolus Equitius Calvus looked wearily to his second-in-command. The Royal Library was engulfed from beginning to end in flames the likes of which he’d ever seen, far beyond even trying to fight. The nearby residents of the city were turning out to gawk, meaning even more of his cohort had to be deployed here to keep onlookers a safe distance away. This was not a night in which he needed any further surprises.
“The Guard Commander reports the men have found someone near the Library, unconscious. They’ve fetched a litter and are bringing him here now.”
“Have him brought into the head librarian’s quarters, out of the sight of the public. As far as we knew the building had been completely emptied before this unholy fire began. I don’t want to give the people here any cause to believe otherwise.”
“Sir.”
Salonius hurried away.
Malleolus ran his hands slowly down his face. The Library had been completely emptied of anyone living, perhaps, but he knew there had been some confusion over what to do with the bodies of the intruders who had been killed earlier (and he was going to find out who had given that order). The bodies had evidently remained within the building, and been left to burn.
He was used to dealing with the younger, less experienced troops-his patience with them was why he’d been given this particular cohort to command-but how this could have happened right under their very nose...
Malleolus busied himself with other tasks about this end of the campus, but his mind rested squarely on the identity of the man his troops had found.
He soon found himself apologising to yet another senior researcher about the disruptions to the campus (shouldn’t the man be worried about the Library?), when Salonius made sure to catch his eye. Salonius smoothly introduced himself to the researcher and explained away the Centurion’s need to depart.
Malleolus made his way down the corridor leading to the head librarian’s quarters, which the man had sensibly turned over to the investigation almost without prompting.
He nodded to the young man guarding the door and strode into his makeshift point of command. The guard commander was there, his expression grim.
“Don’t tell me we’ve ‘lost’ another potential witness, Laelius,” Malleolus spat.
“No, sir, we have not. Save his state of unconsciousness, he seems relatively unharmed for his proximity to the... event.”
“Then let me see him.”
“Of course, sir.”
Laelius gestured to the bed tucked in the corner of the room. The guards parted, and Malleolus swept the curtain aside.
In the man’s state, it was hard to tell whether he was young or old, Egyptian, Roman, Greek, or Jew, or anything else. What was easy to see was that he was covered from head to foot in charred bits of papyrus and other residue, and had a sampling of cuts and abrasions on his hands and face.
Laelius came up behind him. “Sir, I thought it best we leave him as he was until you could see him for yourself.”
“Well done, Laelius,” Malleolus answered distractedly, “but I’d like to see who we’re dealing with.”
Laelius signalled to two of the other guards in the room, who dashed off to procure the items necessary to clean this man up so Malleolus could have a good look at his face.
“Should I send for a surgeon, sir?”
“No, but have one of them ready for when we bring him to the jail.”
Laelius had a good head on his shoulders. Malleolus could see they must both be thinking the same thing: this man had clearly escaped the fire, a fire which hadn’t even started before the building had been made empty... what else could this possibly mean?
This man, whomever he was, had almost certainly burnt down the Royal Library of Alexandria.
********************************************************************
Rose had been beginning to think that the only luck she was capable of having was bad luck, until Quintus had returned to his family’s home. He’d quickly filled them in with all the information he could give on the situation at the Library.
Quintus had been sent home to rest on orders of his watch commander, along with the other members of his squad (cohort, platoon, whatever) who had been on duty earlier in the day. This Laelius wanted fresh troops for the day, which meant that the headcount would only get higher the longer they waited.
After Quintus had told his parents of what he’d seen at the Library, how the dead man he and his father had seen transported away was far from the only one slain by the guards that night, they’d reluctantly agreed to let Rose go back to the scene, with Quintus, Tuditanus and Fusus accompanying her.
Quintus hadn't come right out and said it, but it seemed he thought it was the Doctor who had set off the fire. But that couldn't be right. Why would Quintus be helping if he even imagined that was true? He didn't seem the type to be fancying that any of this was some sort of divine act, regardless of what he'd witnessed.
Metella and Lobus were to work from here on arrangements to get the Doctor and Rose out of the city in the morning. As big an event as this fire was, Alexandria was a vital trade city and there would still be ships of all sorts coming and going as normal. If the Doctor was unconscious or injured, he might be in no condition to release the lockouts he must’ve set on the TARDIS controls. They’d need a way to make an immediate escape without using her to do so.
Rose thought that given enough time she might be able to figure out a way to get the TARDIS to release her controls, and a nice long sail to some neutral port would give her the chance to work on it.
At Lobus’ recommendation, Rose had changed into a toga, much to Metella’s chagrin and the extreme confusion of Licina and Sura. She wasn’t happy about being dressed like a member of the world’s oldest profession, but if she were seen it would help to explain to the casual onlooker just why she was out at this hour of the night in the company of men.
Quintus had changed out of his uniform into some old clothes Metella had saved for him. Seeing the getup, Rose wasn’t sure why she was the one scandalising the household-Quintus’ arse was practically hanging out, and even he seemed embarrassed by the shortness of his tunic.
The family carriage moved along the streets, swaying a bit more now that they had a full load. Dorsuo was about to drop them off a safe distance from the Library’s campus.
Rose fingered the small set of binoculars and black knit skullcap she’d retrieved from the TARDIS before they headed out. She was far more willing to take chances with the Romans getting their hands on a smashed-up set of optics they couldn’t reproduce than she was with the Doctor’s life-or anyone else’s. If she couldn’t get a good look at what was going on, it might cost them the only shot they had at getting the Doctor out without any casualties.
The carriage stopped abruptly. Dorsuo got down and came around to the door, hissing “I’d best let you all out, Master Quintus. I’ll be waiting for you here.”
As he handed Rose out of the carriage, he murmured to Rose “Please be careful, ma’am.”
“We will.”
Quintus guided her, Fusus and Tuditanus through the last few remaining streets to just outside the edges of the Library’s campus, while Rose stuffed her hair under the black cap. Quintus clambered up onto the roof of a vacant building, and Fusus helped Rose to join him up top.
From here, they had a clear view into the campus. Rose pulled out her binoculars, and Quintus gave her a befuddled glance, but kept his mouth shut.
She could see that the flames at the Library were starting to die down now-the fire had burned fast-but what remained was still enough to illuminate the campus fairly effectively. Even here there was some haze and a light rain of ash, and Rose could see ash had blanketed the campus too. A few toga-wearing men were shuffling back and forth between the remaining buildings, but far and away the majority of the people visible on the campus were soldiers.
A lot of soldiers. Rose started counting, and stopped after she hit 60, most of them fully attentive and armed to the teeth. They must’ve called in another group after Quintus and his lot were sent home.
Quintus looked totally perplexed.
Oh, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Rose handed him the binoculars. He looked through the optics and gasped. After a moment fiddling with the focus, he took a look too.
“I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered, “but there are probably half again as many soldiers in the buildings themselves. I don’t see how we can get onto the campus without being caught, much less get there and find wherever they’ve put the Doctor, fetch him, and get back out again.”
Rose felt her eyes burning, and not from the foul air. She would not cry in front of Quintus. She wouldn’t.
“Here, you should have these back.”
She took the binoculars from Quintus, and checked again herself.
He was right, there were far too many of them to even attempt a rescue. She couldn’t risk it.“Let’s get back to Dorsuo, then.”
Quintus helped her down, then followed. He nudged Rose, and she removed her cap, tucking it back away with the binoculars. The group walked in silence back to the carriage, and Dorsuo looked sad but unsurprised to see them return so soon.
Tuditanus helped her up into the carriage, then the rest of the men followed. As soon as the carriage was underway, she spoke.
“What are our options now?”
“Our best chance is probably to get him out of the city jail in the morning. There are at least three of my mates who could and probably would help us talk our way in and out of there.”
“But won’t the staff at the jail know you all? I can’t ask you to put yourselves in that kind of jeopardy.”
“For the Doctor, I would do it. And with what they’ve seen tonight, so would my friends. There have been so many contradictory or unusual orders, I don’t know that the average soldier will be any less confused come the morning.”
“We can use that. Say it was a standing order from tonight or something?”
“Exactly.”
Silence fell over the carriage again, and Rose listened to the clopping of the horses’ hooves as they made their way home.
********************************************************************
Every once in a great while these situations had a way of working themselves out, he supposed.
The Doctor lay with his head cradled on Rose’s legs, gazing up at her alluring visage. She was sitting tailor-fashion, and her hair was still up in that loose chignon, none the worse for wear. Even better, she was still clad in the whisper-soft, draped garb Metella had given her. Rose was alternating weaving her fingers through his hair with tracing the outlines of his sideburns up and down in a long, soothing pattern. The sun dappled through the trees overhead as the cart rocked to and fro underneath them. She was smiling down at him in the most intriguing way, but they couldn’t possibly be alone-someone had to be driving this thing, didn’t they?
Ah, well, some things were well worth waiting for. He hummed contentedly and nuzzled into her hand.
That was unexpectedly scratchy.
He leaned his head back, and saw that Rose’s hands were now covered in woolen mittens. She was still beaming down at him, though. Must’ve gotten a bit nippy, that’s all. He relaxed and closed his eyes and tried not to mind as she kept brushing her hands along his face despite the mittens.
They kept moving along this slow, peaceful country lane for a while. And after said while, he had to face facts: the smell of lanolin was really starting to get him. That, and the smell of the horses.
Be fair, it is a cart. Would you rather have eau de oxen?
Lanolin, horses, and... smoke? No, not smoke.
Post-combustion byproducts. Or maybe a paper mill?
Eurgh. A detour was definitely in order.
He reached for Rose’s mittened hand-or tried to. For some reason he couldn’t quite manage it.
The Doctor didn’t mind a bit of horseplay under the right circumstances, but Rose did seem to have him pinned down rather effectively.
“Rose, would you mind?” he chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise, I just want to ask the driver...”
Ooh, his throat was a bit rough.
He tried to reach for her again, tugging harder this time. He couldn’t move his arm. Or arms. Either of them.
Rose’s grip on his wrists felt like a vise. This wasn’t so funny anymore.
A rush of those smells hit him again (so acrid, where were they coming from?) and he opened his eyes.
Rose was above him still, her ash-streaked face paler than the marble in Caecilius’ workshop. Wisps of smoke rose from singed spots scattered through her hair and clothing. Her eyes were sad-no, emptied-and if anyone was pinning him down, it couldn’t be Rose. Her arms hung limply at her sides now, and her head and body lolled loosely with every movement of the cart, almost as if she were...
The cart jolted sharply, and she fell backwards and away from him, out of his sight.
“Rose? Rose?!”
The Doctor struggled desperately now against whatever was binding him. He tried to look down, but he couldn’t seem to crane his head enough to see.
The cart jumped again, and his head struck the-
The Doctor woke with a start and a rattling breath. His lungs felt like they’d been sandblasted and his throat was even worse.
He felt another jolt pass underneath him. He... was on the floor in the back of some sort of carriage. A carriage, a very swiftly-moving one based on the roughness of the ride. His head was barely cushioned by what felt like a bundled-up cloak, and he was indeed bound from head to toe.
Thank you, he thought to the universe, as he blinked away hot tears, Rose is alive, she’s not here, she’s alive, she’s not here, Rose is alive.
The Doctor fought back a sob of relief, and tried to calm his galloping heartbeat. Now that he had some idea of where he was, or more importantly, where he wasn’t, it was time to take stock.
The Doctor could hear the mixture of sounds of the road going by, and moved his head as best as his restraints allowed. He could see the sizeable calves and feet of what he gathered was a soldier, facing out the open doorway of the wagon.
The cloak protecting his head was impregnated with lanolin? Check. Red? Hard to tell in this light, but likely.
Trussed up like a Christmas turkey? Check. Room for anyone besides him and the one guard? Not really.
Judging from the particular flavour of the sting of the tears still rolling down his cheeks, his face had been wiped clean, but not in an especially delicate fashion. Probably for identification purposes, then.
Speaking of flavours, he could still taste the smoke from the Library, feel its ashes in his mouth, which meant it couldn’t have been that long since he’d been taken into custody. Based on the speed at which they were travelling, and the amount of lantern light going past outside, he’d guess they were somewhere along the Boulevard Argeus.
He could see the foot of the soldier start to turn back into the carriage. Best to let him think he was still out cold. The Doctor relaxed against his restraints.
The carriage continued moving along and the soldier bumped at his feet as he settled, quite possibly trying to get some sort of rise out of his prisoner.
Playing possum wasn’t usually the Doctor’s style, but it seemed like the wise choice for the moment.
On the other hand, the stupid carelessness which had put him in this position was just his style, far too often. That was ultimately why he hadn’t trusted himself to protect Rose from the consequences of his decisions, and turned the matter of her safety over to a friendly near-stranger instead of relying on himself.
And the sorts of decisions he’d made today, the bitter, hard ones, were the type Rose had had to make far too often on his account over the past several years, when she never should have had to be making them at all.
He’d be damned if he was going to force her into them now.
She didn’t often talk about the time they’d spent apart, or just how she’d spent her years hopping universes in search of him. Rose seemed to prefer letting the past fade away in favour of making a better future, which had certainly benefitted him in more ways than he could count. If only...
There was a loud rapping on the carriage wall, and the Doctor jerked a little. He stifled any further reaction, and hoped the guard hadn’t noticed.
“We’re almost there, Geganius,” the carriage driver bellowed, “Look lively, and be ready to move the prisoner.”
The soldier stirred, and the Doctor felt his guard step over him, back into the open doorway. There was a creaking sound, as if someone were supporting himself against the door’s frame. Was the soldier turning around?
A swift, brutal kick to his thigh sent a stabbing pain clear through the Doctor. He gasped sharply, flinching at the blow, his eyes flying open.
“You awake now, you little bastard? How stupid do you think I am?” Geganius growled.
The Doctor looked up into the scowling face of his custodian and nodded slowly and carefully. Geganius shoved his way back to his seat, not even making a pretence at delicacy now.
If this was indicative of the sort of treatment he was going to receive...
Oh who was he fooling? As this was the gentlest treatment he could probably expect to receive, that he was not looking forward to being a guest of the Roman Empire was an epic understatement.
Still, as Cicero had said fairly recently, while there’s life, there’s hope. He hadn’t been put to the sword straight away, (unlike the others) so that was at least something.
Something good? That he doubted highly.
He laid back and tried not to let the ugly scenarios playing out rapid-fire in his head overwhelm him as the carriage rumbled the short distance remaining toward its destination.
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Mallelous watched as Lucius Laberius Maximus, Prefect of Alexandria, loomed over the prisoner, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. The criminal was bound and seated, and had been gagged for good measure.
That the Prefect would deign to review a prisoner himself would be exceedingly rare, but to have a prisoner brought before him? At any other time, Malleolus would expect this would mean the man’s immediate execution. Not today, it would seem.
The Prefect had been angrily addressing the prisoner for quite some time, perhaps looking for some clue in his reactions.
“The Senate should not imagine they can get away with this latest attempt to undermine the Emperor’s position,” the Prefect spat as he tread back and forth before the prisoner, continuing to vent his rage. “That is why you must be sent back to Rome, so you may be tried where all may see and know of the Senate’s scheming.”
Assuming the Prefect's supposition was correct, the Senate had chosen their demon well. He'd given nothing away thus far. Almost nothing. After some judiciously applied pressure, he had given them his name, but it wasn’t even a proper name-simply a title. Malleolus would’ve thought the man’s spirit had fled his body shortly after he’d been confined in his solitary cell, had he not seen the fear in this Doctor’s eyes this morning when the guards had been preparing him for delivery, and he’d been told exactly whom he was being taken to see.
“Equitius, what was the name of the soldier who brought this heinous and unprovoked assault on the Emperor’s Library to your attention?”
“Quintus Caecilius Iucundus, sir.”
“He will go with you. Set him to ensure the prisoner’s well-being during the voyage. We wouldn’t want any misfortune to befall the Doctor before he can offer his testimony.”
“I am certain he will be glad of the honour, sir.”
“As well he should be. Equitius, I require this Doctor to be alive and in reasonable condition when he arrives in Rome.”
The Prefect looked the Doctor up and down appraisingly, then waved him off with a derisive sneer. “Such as his condition may be. We can hardly be held responsible for his state before he was taken into custody.”
Malleolus eyed his men carefully. “Take him to the holding cell here at once. Any sustenance is to be tasted before giving it to the prisoner. No-one may see or speak to him other than you, myself, and the Prefect.”
Malleolus watched his men take the Doctor away.
“Be sure to keep the prisoner in complete isolation while preparations are made-he must not be allowed to get a warning to his masters. I will see to it that your ship has the freshest men available.”
Mallelolus saluted, then followed his men out the door, and away from the steady gaze of the Prefect.
He didn’t envy young Caecilius one bit.
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Part 7.1