One
Once the doctor was gone, a hush fell over the gloomy cavern of the under-henge. A quiet.
Drawing his sword, Rory sat down on the edge of the raised platform on which the Pandorica stood. He put the sword across his knees. Ready to use, should it come to it.
2000 years, he thought.
Never sleeping, the doctor had said. Awake for every second.
But it would be worth it.
She was worth it.
Amy.
He leaned back against the Pandorica, resting his head against the side. It seemed to thrum with invisible energy, vibrating through his centurion's helmet and into his skull. He imagined the same energy thrumming through Amy as she slept inside, undoing the damage he had done, bringing her back to life.
He thought back two years- or forward 1906 years, depending on which way you looked at it.
2008.
He had told Amy he loved her for the first time that year. She'd laughed, tossed back her hair in a wave of ginger and said,' well it's about time you said that, you big wimp!' It made him smile to remember.
And then, barely a few weeks later, Amy's imaginary friend had assailed him in a park, every bit as raggedy as she'd described to him back when they were both eight. And yeah, he suddenly realized what she'd meant- his hair never had been crazy enough.
He'd always been a pretty poor imitation.
It had been the maddest day of his life- well, he'd thought so at the time. From the coma patients taking a stroll in the park, to the man who saved the world from aliens… and then brought them all back again. For one day the world seemed to speed up, so it was almost an effort to keep up with it, but an effort worth making, however bewildering. And then the doctor was gone once again, raggedy no longer; a smart doctor, a bow-tied doctor, but still, it seemed, prone to the vanishing act.
Time passed slowly in the under-henge, never sleeping but always dreaming. Like Rory himself, the cavern was unchanging. It only took a few days for the torches to burn right down to their brackets, and they were gone. The statue-like monsters seemed to sink into the ground as day by day they crumbled. The next time Rory met a living being, ten years later, all that remained were the daleks, and vague, dusty shapes, barely recognizable as being… what was it?... Cybermen. Like the former guard of the Pandorica, the one he'd killed.
First he heard a sort of knocking and chiselling, as soil starting pouring down the steps into the chamber. Just a trickle at first, but soon clots of earth were tumbling down the stone steps, raising the dust from the ground for the first time in years. With a great creaking, groaning sound as the entrance- stone was rolled away, cold light shafted down into the chamber.
Rory lifted his head slightly. His neck was stiff. His whole body was stiff, stiff like plastic. He moved his arms, his sword slid onto the floor with an iron clang. He shook his head and dust drifted down from it. He had not moved for… quite a while. Stooping awkwardly down, he scooped up his sword.
In waking, he had almost forgotten what had woken him, then voices echoed down into the under-henge from above.
'Seems like the old man was right'.
'Not yet Tertius- even if the cave exists, any treasure will have been looted long ago. It was practically open- the stone wasn't even covering it properly. I definitely think someone's been here'.
The flickering light from two torches swelled at the entrance to the cavern. The heavy iron doors still stood open, as the doctor had left them. Seeing this, the second voice sneered,' you see? Someone's been here before us'.
The first torch appeared in the doorway, followed closely by it owner, a burly Roman man, a soldier. Rory knew from his stolen Roman knowledge that the man was a legionnaire, ranking under Rory. Back in the legion, almost ten years ago now, he had been in command of eighty legionnaires.
The man stopped still when he saw Rory standing there, his sword drawn. His companion, another legionnaire but skinnier and more runty-looking, almost walked right into him.
'Attilius! What is it?'
Then he saw Rory. For a moment, both men just stared, mouths slightly open, and then the first, the man called Attilius, drew his sword.
'Who are you and what are you doing here?' he said, holding his torch so that the harsh blaze bathed Rory's face in light.
'My name is…' Rory floundered,' Roranicus. I'm guarding the Pandorica'.
'And what's a pandorica?'
'Not a pandorica. The Pandorica. There's only one'.
The Roman's gaze drifted to the huge box behind Rory, the box that seemed to pulse with unearthly energy. Attilius was a seasoned soldier, hardened by many, many battles with the barbarians and the picts, and yet the box made him feel weird. He simultaneously wanted to stare and stare at it and look away.
'Did General Augustus send you?' asked Tertius, who wasn't looking at the box, but its centurion guard,' to protect the treasure until we got here?'
Rory thought about this,' yes', he said slowly,' he did. But as you can see- there is no treasure'.
Tertius snorted, sheathing his sword with a chink of metal.
'But that's the treasure. The legendary puzzle box Emporer Trajan desires so much. Looks pretty worthless to me. Some were saying it was made of gold.'
He walked up to the Pandorica; seemed to be about to put his hand on the side, but thought better of it at the last second. He turned to Rory.
'Any trouble', he asked,' any thieves? Because rumour has been spreading around the empire of a vast treasure buried under the druid stones. I would have thought the Emporer would request a legion'.
'No', replied Rory. He didn't like the Roman so close to the Pandorica, and kept his sword at hand,' no… thieves. Which is just as well, you know. No treasure here'.
Treasure… Rory gazed at the box. What it contained was treasure- to him. The Emporer Trajan looked set to be disappointed though. Particularly if he was expecting something made of gold.
'I'll get the slaves', said Attilius, backing out of the under-henge.
'Slaves?' said Rory.
'To dig it out'.
Tertius followed Attilius out of the underground chamber, and Rory, sheathing his sword quickly, ran after them.
Outside the world was frozen under a thick mantle of snow. It capped the stones with white and drifted down from the sky in swirling waves. The piercing cold took Rory by surprise after the muggy warmth of the under-henge. He stood at its entrance where the stone had been moved aside and watched as Attilius and Tertius tramped across to where the slaves stood, outside a large tent erected just outside the circle of stones.
He wondered what he was supposed to do now. If he was right, and his knowledge of how the Roman's worked ensured that, then there would be an entire armed guard in that tent. An armed guard ordered to bring back Emporer Trajan's treasure to Rome. Rory had no hope of fighting them all off. He doubted he had much hope fighting one off- though his combat skills had improved, ever since he'd turned into a centurion. But if he allowed them to take the Pandorica away, then 2000 years in the future, when the doctor returned to the under-henge, it would be gone.
But he'd find it, wouldn't he. The doctor would find them, wherever they were. The best thing to do was go to Rome with the Romans.
Decided, Rory set off across the snow towards the tent, sinking in up to the ankles with every step. The cold burned through his sandals as the snow pressed against the gaps in them. If he was going all the way to Rome, without the help of an aeroplane or car, he would have to get some better shoes.