Doctor Who and the Crusaders Read Free Page B

headed towards its objective – Earth!

CHAPTER ONE
Death in the Forest
    The hawk turned in the sky above the forest, almost as if it were standing on its wing for a split second, and then darted down on its prey, its bold eyes of orange yellow glinting darkly in the bright sunlight; talons rigid and ready to catch and hold, the beak sharply poised to put down any struggle. It flashed lower, swooping to the right slightly, a compact weapon of destruction; slate grey above, a white touch on the nape, darkly streaked on its wings and tail. Beneath, the russet colour was broken by strips of brown. Whether the little bird, its prey, took fright because it recognized the danger of the colouring, whether it saw death in the broad, rounded wings and long, barred tail, or whether it simply sensed, as victims often do, a fast approaching end to its life, is something far beyond the knowledge of human beings. Sufficient to say, the little bird took fright and tried to elude its pursuer, with an urgent thrust of its tiny wing-span.
    The man, whose red-gold hair was barely visible beneath his hunting cap, shaded his eyes and followed the battle eagerly. He watched as the birds circled, darted, joined and fell apart, noting a feather shoot away from the smaller of the two fighters and drift to the ground listlessly. Then the prey took flight and darted down into the trees, closely followed by the hawk, and both hunter and hunted disappeared. The man let his hand fall to his side and glanced at a companion dressed similarly in simple hunting clothes, who was sitting on the mossy ground of the forest glade, struggling to bend the clasp of a jewelled belt with his fingers. Another man, also in hunting clothes,leaned against a tree with his eyes closed, his face turned up into the sun, enjoying the peace of the afternoon, and he also received the amused attention of the one who had followed the battle in the skies with such fascination.
    ‘It seems my friends have no interest in the battles of nature,’ he murmured. His two friends looked at him, the one leaning against the tree flushing rather guiltily at his inattention. Before either of the men could reply, however, the hawk reappeared in the sky. Although normally rather quiet, the bird was clearly excited now, uttering a sharp ‘taket, taket, taket’, as if protesting at some insulting treatment it had received from within the depths of the forest, where it had pursued its prey. Finally, the hawk dived down and settled quietly on the extended arm of its master, who extracted a small leather pouch from his belt and slipped it over the bird’s head.
    ‘I am the only day and night for you, hunter,’ murmured King Richard the First of England, stroking the back of the hawk’s body gently. ‘But why no success today?’ He continued, reprovingly, ‘I bring you all this way from England to see you made foolish. I hope this is not an omen, bird.’
    He handed the hawk to a waiting servant. The man leaning against the tree folded his arms and watched the servant walk away with the bird on his arm.
    ‘I wish I were a hawk, Sire, and Saladin my prey.’
    ‘Now there is a subject for our troubadours and actors,’ laughed the King. ‘Speak to the Chamberlain about it, I beg you, de Marun.’
    ‘I will, My Lord. And I shall have the players call the entertainment, “The Defeat of Saladin, the Sparrow of the East!”’
    The three men’s laughter echoed through the wood and the man who had been trying to bend the clasp of the jewel-studdedgold belt, Sir William de Tornebu, put his work aside and joined in the merriment, until they heard the sound of footsteps through the bushes. Branches were thrust aside and a tall, dark-haired man, a sword held firmly in his right hand, stepped into view. Richard held up a hand in mock surrender.
    ‘No, des Preaux, I will not fight today!’
    Sir William des Preaux lowered the sword with a slight smile.
    ‘I think he means to slay us all,’