AN: Hello there dear friends! It's been a little while, I won't lie. But I've been super busy (and super depressed, and super affected by my carpal tunnel, but that's a story for another time). At least I got this one done! I'll do my best over the next couple of weeks to do another chapter, but I can't make any promises. It may be the easter holidays, but I've still got work to do.
Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 3: The Shakespeare Code
Unfortunately for Martha, her first ever trip in the Tardis was a rather bumpy one. The ship was bucking wildly, and the Doctor was doing an awful job of keeping things under control.
"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight."
They finally landed with a thud, and even though Martha had been clinging tight to the console, she ended up on the floor.
"Blimey. Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"
He sighed. "Yes, and I failed it."
There was a scoff from Eris.
"Three times, to be precise."
"I wish I'd never told you that. Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip, and one trip only. Outside this door, brave new world."
Martha rested her hand against the door, and then turned to look back.
"Where are we?"
"Take a look. After you."
She stepped out first - right into the past. The Tardis was parked under some low hanging eaves, which matched the houses lining the narrow cobbled street. Scruffy looking kids ran in and out of the washing lines.
"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"
Eris grimaced. "Mind out."
She pulled Martha back as a man called out from above. "Gardez l'eau!" And he tossed the rather nasty looking contents of a bucket out onto the street.
The Doctor looked embarrassed.
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."
Martha rolled her eyes.
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift A+E. But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
Both the Doctor and Eris had already started walking, and they turned back to look at her.
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?"
"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."
He shrugged. "Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"
"What if, I don't know, what if I kill my grandfather?"
Eris raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to?"
"No."
"Well, then."
"And this is London?"
The Doctor looked around a bit. "I think so. Round about 1599."
Eris agreed. "Scanner said 1599. I don't know why you can't just check before stepping out the doors."
"It's more fun that way."
Now, there was something else to worry Martha.
"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"
"Why would they do that?"
She gestured at herself. "Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."
He shrugged. "I'm not even human. Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me. Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there. They've got recycling." He pointed at a man shoveling some kind of manure into a bucket. "Water cooler moment." Two peasants gossiping. "Global warming." As they walked past a preacher holding a ragged sign. "Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…"
He trailed off as they passed Southwark Cathedral and got a good view of the London skyline. Which included a large, white building. It was unmistakeable.
"Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing the man himself."
Martha gasped.
"Whoa, you don't mean. Is Shakespeare in there?"
"Oh, yes. Miss Eris, Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?"
Martha grinned. "Mr Smith, I will."
"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."
"Then I could get sectioned."
Deep in the pit of the Globe Theatre, the trio from the twenty-first century stood among the throng of Londoners and applauded wildly. The play had just come to a close, and it had been quite the success.
Martha couldn't keep the smile off her face.
"That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"
Eris smirked. "London never changes."
"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" She faltered for a moment, looking up at the Doctor. "Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"
Her question was answered by a man next to them, who picked up the cry.
"Author! Author!"
Soon, the whole crowd was chanting. The Doctor grinned.
"Well, they do now."
And then he appeared, the man himself, beard and all. The applause was rapturous, punctuated with howls of appreciation.
"He's a bit different from his portraits." Martha remarked.
"They all are." Eris shrugged in response.
The Doctor was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Genius. He's a genius. The genius. The most human human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. Always he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."
Shakespeare took a deep bow, and then spread his arms wide.
"Ah, shut your big fat mouths!"
The disappointment on the Doctor's face made Eris laugh, and she patted his arm.
"Oh, well. You should never meet your heroes."
"You did alright with that Wells bloke."
"Yeah well, that was different. He fancied me."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. I quite liked him too, to be honest with you."
The playwright was still talking.
"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that. Oh, that's a wig. I know what you're all saying. Loves Labour's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops. Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius."
All of a sudden, his manner changed entirely. He stiffened, and his face went blank.
"When? Tomorrow night. The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it Love's Labour's Won."
There was applause at this news, but the Doctor could see the confusion on the actors' faces behind him, and the odd look on Eris' face.
As the crowd filed out of the theatre, Martha sprung her point on them.
"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of Love's Labour's Won."
The Doctor nodded. Exactly. The lost play. It doesn't exist, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. And no one knows why."
"I remember it."
The two of them stopped in the street, staring at Eris.
"What?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, dad. St Ishmael may have been a small place but we still got news, and given that London was the biggest place in the world - to us, at least - there was always talk. Especially of a certain Mr Shakespeare."
He frowned. "So what do you know?"
"Not much, unfortunately. They used to list the plays being performed each week, and then have reviews the week after. When it came to Love's Labour's Lost, there was loads of commentary, stuff about the quality of the acting and costumes, everything. But although Love's Labour's Won was listed, it was never mentioned again. Like it wasn't ever performed."
"Well, that's definitely weird."
Martha snorted, trying to lighten the mood. None of what Eris said had really made sense, but she decided to ignore it for now. She hardly knew the girl anyway. For all she knew, she was probably some sort of history or literature student. After all, wouldn't time travel be the perfect way to do research?
"Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint."
"No."
"That would be bad."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Very." Eris added.
"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"
The look on the Doctor's face was slightly pained.
"Well, I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the Tardis, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer."
Inside The Elephant Tavern, a pretty woman carried a tray of drinks into one of the upstairs rooms, setting one down in front of each of the men around the desk.
"Here you go, Will. Drink up. There's enough beer in this lodgings house to sink the Spanish."
William Shakespeare smiled up at her. "Dolly Bailey, you've saved my life."
"I'll do more than that later tonight." She winked, before turning to the younger woman in the room.
"And you, girl, hurry up with your tasks. The talk of gentlemen is best not overheard."
She nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."
Conversation at the desk was surrounding one topic in particular.
"You must be mad, Will. Love's Labour's Won? I mean, we're not ready. It's supposed to be next week. What made you say that?"
"You haven't even finished it yet."
Will rolled his eyes and waved them off.
"I've just got the final scene to go. You'll get it by morning."
They were interrupted by the appearance of the Doctor in the doorway.
"Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mr Shakespeare, isn't it?"
The response wasn't exactly the one he'd been expecting.
"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove-"
He stopped at the sight of Martha and Eris flanking the man, one looking a little starstruck and the other very impressed indeed.
"Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."
Looking at the girls, Dolly rolled her eyes fondly.
"Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."
As the others left, Martha took the closest seat to Shakespeare while the other two sat opposite him.
"Well, such a pleasant sight on a long evening. You shine, my dear."
It took them a moment to realise that he was talking to Eris. Her response seemed easy.
"How kind of you to say. Although I am most definitely not the most wonderful sight in London tonight."
"And who might you be alluding to with that remark?"
"Come now sir, a lady never tells."
He laughed, and shifted his attentions.
"And you, sweet lady. Such unusual clothes. So fitted."
Martha tried to keep the shake out of her voice.
"Er, verily, forsooth, egads."
Next to her, the Doctor winced. "No, no, don't do that. Don't." And he produced the psychic paper from a pocket.
"I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis, this is Dame Eris of Tardis, and this is our companion, Miss Martha Jones."
Will glanced at the paper and smirked.
"Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."
Eris and the Doctor looked stunned.
"Oh, that's very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."
Martha looked at it herself.
"No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones. It says so."
"And I say it's blank."
The Doctor pulled a face.
"Psychic paper. Er, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."
Will raised an eyebrow. "Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"
Martha's jaw dropped. "What did you say?"
"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"
"I can't believe I'm hearing this."
A wince from the Doctor.
"It's political correctness gone mad. Er, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia."
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a man wearing expensive looking clothes and a golden chain around his neck.
"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."
"Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round." Will sighed, clearly displeased by the man's appearance.
"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"
"I can't."
"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled. I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labour's Won will never be played."
And then he stormed out, leaving them in silence.
Martha shrugged.
"Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labour's Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious."
As though she'd been asking for trouble, there was a man's scream from the street, closely followed by a woman's. The Doctor and Eris led the way down to the street, Martha hot on their heels, as they got involved in whatever was going on.
"Help me!"
They were about half way across the courtyard when a familiar figure stumbled through an archway, spewing copious amounts of water.
"It's that Lynley bloke." Martha gasped.
Eris' eyes widened. "What's wrong with him?"
The Doctor gestured to the gathering people to move.
"Leave it to me. I'm a doctor."
Martha helped him. "So am I, near enough."
Lynley collapsed, and Martha dropped to her knees.
"Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be alright." She started to clear his airways for CPR, but recoiled sharply when a new flood of water gushed out of his mouth and nose. "What the hell is that?"
The Doctor ducked down next to her, frowning.
"I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water. He drowned and then, I don't know, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow."
He then stood, addressing the crowd that had appeared.
"Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."
Dolly nodded. "Yes, sir."
The young woman that Dolly had chastised before piped up.
"I'll do it, ma'am."
As she left, Martha hissed to the Doctor.
"And why are you telling them that?"
Eris answered for him. "This lot have still got one foot in the Dark Ages. Trust me, I'd know. If we were to tell them the truth, they'd panic and think it was witchcraft."
"Okay, what was it then?"
The Doctor looked grim.
"Witchcraft."
As Eris picked at some bits of candle wax that had dribbled onto the desk in Shakespeare's room, Dolly stuck her head around the doorway.
"I got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, your daughter and Miss Jones are just across the landing."
Will groaned. "Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"
"Where a woman can do what she likes." Martha smiled.
"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
His voice was flat. "I do a lot of reading."
"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And you? Your eyes are old too, but there's something behind them. A sparkle, something sweet. I suppose you read a lot too."
Eris stood, mouth curling in a slight smile.
"I think we should say goodnight."
WIll rubbed his eyes.
"I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."
As Martha left, and Eris and the Doctor moved towards the door, he turned back.
"All the world's a stage."
"Hmm. I might use that. Goodnight, Doctor."
The Doctor waved.
"Nighty night, Shakespeare."
Eris walked into the bedroom first, grinning and spinning in a circle. "Well this is lovely!"
Martha wrinkled her nose.
"It's not exactly five star, is it?"
The room was fairly small, and very plainly furnished. A single bed, covered with a ratty blanket; a tall wooden cupboard and a low set of drawers. Nothing else. The Doctor shrugged.
"Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse."
"I haven't even got a toothbrush."
"Oh. Er." He rummaged in a pocket for a moment, and produced a yellow plastic toothbrush, passing it over to her. "Contains Venusian spearmint."
"So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."
"We'll manage. Come on."
He threw himself down onto the bed and Eris plonked herself down next to him. Martha raised an eyebrow.
"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."
The Doctor grinned. "Wait till you read book seven. Oh, I cried."
A warning look on her face, Eris punched him in the shoulder. "I'm four chapters away from the end - don't you dare spoil it for me."
Martha tried to get the conversation back on track.
"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"
He snorted. "Course it isn't!"
"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."
Eris shrugged. "Be fair, dad. Witchcraft is a massive grey area."
He conceded. "Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be. Are you going to stand there all night?"
Martha sat next to the Doctor as Eris shuffled around to perch on the end of the bed.
"Budge up a bit, then. Sorry, there's not much room. Us two here, same bed. Tongues will wag."
Neither of the time travellers really noticed her comment.
"There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that. No, there's something I'm missing, Martha. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it."
Eris stood, moving over to the window ledge.
"You two can take the bed, I'm not really in the mood to sleep."
As she got comfy, legs crossed and back against the window frame, the Doctor kept talking.
"Rose'd know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."
That stung quite a bit, and Martha huffed.
"Great."
And she blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness.
While all was quiet in the rest of the inn, Will sat at his desk, intent on getting the last page of the script finished. It was so nearly done. Unbeknownst to him, Lilith glided up to the window and uncorked a small green bottle. It seemed to be smoking slightly at the top, and she blew the tinted vapour towards the playwright. He collapsed forwards onto his papers, and Lilith entered the room. She held a doll attached to a puppet frame in her left hand - it was already set up with a lock of Will's hair. The doll had a miniature quill in it's hand.
"Bind the mind and take the man. Speed the words to writer's hand."
She tugged a string, and Shakespeare jerked upright, a dopey look on his face. Without looking at the paper, he continued writing at a steady pace. He was soon finished, and slumped forwards again. Lilith stroked his head, enjoying the moment of peace.
It didn't last long.
Dolly walked into the room, a smile on her face.
"Will? Finished cleaning just in time for your special treat. Oh, aye. I'm not the first, then."
She could only see Lilith's back, so got an awful shock when her face was revealed. It was haggard, wrinkled, with a hooked nose and warts. She snatched the broom out of Dolly's hand.
"I'll take that to aid my flight and you shall speak no more this night."
In the guest room, it was oddly peaceful. The Doctor was drifting deep in thought, and Eris was staring out into the night. It was familiar, yet alien. When she'd lived through it the first time around she hadn't been to a city as big as London, but the building structures and people's clothing felt like home. She found herself humming, something that sounded like 'I Pass All My Hours' but wasn't quite exact. She'd learnt it so long ago that there were bound to be a few bars that had been misremembered. Nevertheless, it felt right. The notes echoed in her brain, and around the room, swelling in the air and blooming like flowers. Almost like magic, she thought.
A scream from Dolly woke Martha, and interrupted the peaceful meditations of her friends. They hurried through the halls and burst into the room to find a very groggy looking Shakespeare, and Dolly slumped on the floor.
"What? What was that?"
Martha ran to the window just in time to see a very typical looking witch in a black cloak, on a broomstick, silhouetted against the moon as she flew away.
The Doctor and Eris had been crouched by Dolly, and their findings weren't good.
"Her heart gave out. She died of fright."
Still at the window, Martha called out to him.
"Doctor?"
He joined her. "What did you see?"
"A witch."
As the sun began to rise and the cockerels started to crow, Shakespeare sat at his desk and mourned.
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such an enormous spirit."
The Doctor leant against a set of drawers and hummed thoughtfully.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"I might use that."
Eris stamped down on her dad's foot.
"You can't. It's someone else's."
Martha had clearly been thinking hard about the situation.
"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you."
Will frowned at her. "You're accusing me?"
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."
"I have? When was that?"
From the other side of the room, the Doctor made a 'stop talking' motion, and murmured.
"Not, not quite yet."
Thankfully, Will didn't seem to notice the interaction. He was deep in thought.
"Peter Streete spoke of witches."
Martha looked at him. "Who's Peter Streete?"
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."
The Doctor liked the sound of that.
"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!"
Once they were in the Globe, the Doctor paced back and forth in front of the stage while Will and Martha stood up on it. Eris was sitting on the very edge, watching him work.
"The columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?"
He shrugged.
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."
"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."
Martha had a thought. "There's fourteen lines in a sonnet."
Eris grinned up at her. "Ten points to Martha Jones!"
The Doctor agreed. "Very good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"
Will didn't quite understand what he was going on about.
"This is just a theatre."
"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time. Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that."
His words made Martha think of something else, and she smiled.
"It's like your police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside."
"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"
Eris thought for a second, and shook her head. "I don't think that's going to work."
Will agreed with her. "You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind. Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
The Doctor, still staring at the columns, asked.
"Where is he now?"
"Bedlam."
There was an uncomfortable look on Eris' face, and Martha lowered her voice to ask her.
"What's Bedlam?"
She whispered back. "Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."
The Doctor helped Eris off the edge of the stage, and offered a hand to Martha.
"We're going to visit him. Right now. Come on."
Seeing them start to walk away, Will jumped down to join them.
"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this first hand."
As they were leaving, two young actors filed into the theatre, and Shakespeare passed each of them a sheet of paper.
"Ralph, the last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it. Back before curtain up. And remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up." He spoke to himself as they moved out of earshot. "As if. She never does."
Will lead them through the Southwark area, with Martha at his side and the Doctor and Eris trailing a metre or so behind.
"So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."
"This country's ruled by a woman." Martha giggled.
"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."
The two of them stopped just before an archway, and Martha raised her eyebrows.
"Whoa, Nelly. I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."
Will winked. "But Martha, this is Town."
Joining them, the Doctor rolled his eyes.
"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later."
And then, to Martha's amazement, Will looked the Doctor up and down and looked rather impressed.
"Is that a promise, Doctor?"
The Time Lord pulled a face.
"Oh, fifty seven academics just punched the air. Now move!"
Bethlehem Hospital, more commonly referred to as Bedlam, was not a pleasant place to be. It was dark, dank, and the main sounds were of chains clinking and people screaming. The air smelled foul, of human waste and rotting straw. The keeper of the keys was leading them to where they wanted to go.
"Does my Lord Doctor wish for some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam."
"No, I don't!" He snapped.
The Keeper shrugged. "Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies."
Martha rounded on Will.
"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"
He pulled a face. "Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia."
"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."
"Mad in what way?"
There was a moment of silence, and Eris rested a hand on the playwright's shoulder.
"You lost your son."
He nodded. "My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
The guilt was visible on Martha's face. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."
Eris was doing her best to ease the pain of his memories. "I lost people to the Black Death too, Good people, people I loved. I know how hard that must have been."
Martha stared at her, unsure of what to think. If she was putting on an act for Will's sake, she was doing a damned good job of it. But if not… then what?
Will nodded.
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be - oh, that's quite good."
The Doctor winked at his daughter. "You should write that down."
"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"
The keeper returned. "This way, my lord!"
The guard escorted them to the correct cell, and the four of them looked sadly at a hunched man dressed in rags. He was sitting with his back to them.
"They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."
The Doctor glared fiercely.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!"
Leaving them in there, the keeper locked the door behind them, and the Doctor crouched down by the patient.
"Peter? Peter Streete?"
Will glanced at him, and shook his head.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him."
"Peter?"
The man raised his head, staring blankly.
Moving slowly, the Doctor placed two fingers on each side of Peter STreete's head, keeping his voice low.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since, happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go."
Peter relaxed a little, and allowed the Doctor to lay him down.
"Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
It took a moment, but Peter started to speak in a soft, stuttering voice.
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done they snapped poor Peter's wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"
"All Hallows Street."
A voice croaked out from behind him. "Too many words."
He turned to see a wizened woman dressed in rags, staring malevolently at the architect.
Martha gasped. "What the hell?"
"Just one touch of the heart."
And before anyone could do anything, the creature put her hand on Peter Streete's chest and there was a sound - a mix of a suck and a pop - and his eyes bulged slightly. He slumped forwards, very clearly dead.
Eris stepped forwards to protect the others as Will froze.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!"
The witch looked at each of them in turn.
"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
Martha ran to the door, grabbing the bars and tugging hard.
"Let us out! Let us out!"
Eris snorted, not taking her eyes off the intruder.
"That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that."
"Who will die first, hmm?" The witch hummed.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, stepping forwards.
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers."
"No! Don't!" Martha shouted as he got closer.
Will looked a little nauseous. "Doctor, can you stop her?"
"No mortal has power over me."
Folding his arms across his chest, the Doctor started to think.
"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you."
"None on Earth has knowledge of us."
"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think. Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy."
Eris gripped his shoulder tightly.
"Dad, fourteen. The number fourteen has got to be connected to all of this, especially with the Globe structure."
He realised, and twisted to kiss her forehead gleefully.
"Oh you're a genius! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen! The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"
The witch cried out in agony and trembled, before vanishing in a flash of yellowy light.
Still not entirely sure they were safe, Martha asked.
"What did you do?"
"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic."
"But there's no such thing as magic."
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."
Eris frowned.
"What are they using them for, though?"
"The end of the world."
Back in Shakespeare's rooms, the Doctor was doing his best to explain everything to the others.
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or just a legend."
Eris raised an eyebrow. "My vote's on real."
Will nodded. "Mine too."
"But what do they want?" Martha shrugged, leaning against the desk.
The Doctor huffed. "A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."
"But how?"
"I'm looking at the man with the words."
All eyes shifted to Will, and he held his hands up in self defence.
"Me? But I've done nothing."
Martha frowned.
"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"
"Finishing the play."
Catching on, the Doctor leaned towards him.
"What happens on the last page?"
He didn't quite get the relevance of the question. "The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual." And then something occurred to him. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."
And then, the Doctor understood. "That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words like a spell, like a code. Love's Labours Won. It's a weapon. The right combination of words, spoken at the right place, with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" Will looked like he liked the turn of phrase, and opened his mouth - but was cut off.
"And yes, you can have that."
Eris darted out of the room and down the hallway, remembering a map that was on one of the walls. Taking it down - as carefully as possible, to avoid tearing it - she brought it back to the room and spread it out on the desk.
The Doctor took a moment to analyse it, and pointed at one location in particular."All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."
"I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."
Martha grinned. "Oh, don't complain."
"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."
"Good luck, Shakespeare. Once more unto the breach."
As the three of them left the room, Shakespeare looked appreciative.
"I like that. Wait a minute, that's one of mine."
Eris stuck her head around the door frame, with a long-suffering look on her face.
"Oh, just shift!"
The trio of time travellers reached All Hallows Street and looked around. The Doctor frowned, peering at all the doors.
"All Hallows Street, but which house?"
Martha didn't quite get it. "The thing is, though, am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me. I'm living proof."
He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.
"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know. Back to the Future. It's like Back to the Future."
"The film?"
"No, the novelisation. Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."
"And he starts fading away. Oh my God, am I going to fade?"
Eris sighed. "You and the whole future of the human race, by the sounds of it."
He nodded. "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?"
On cue, the door of the house directly opposite creaked open.
"Ah. Make that witch house."
Martha coughed to hide a laugh as Eris jabbed him sharply in the ribs.
They entered the house, and after checking both of the downstairs bedrooms, started up the stairs. With every step they made, Martha's apprehension grew. There was only one door on the landing, and the Doctor pushed it open with one hand.
"I take it we're expected."
The stunning young woman who'd infiltrated Shakespeare's place before was standing at the other end of the room, dressed in a tattered black dress. Her hair was trailing over her shoulders, and there was a glint of something unpleasant in her eyes.
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time."
Martha edged past the others, glaring at the girl.
"Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this. I name thee Carrionite!"
Lilith gasped dramatically and clutched at her front for a second, before returning to normality with a giggle. Anxious, Martha looked back at the Doctor.
"What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"
The witch beat him to the answer.
"The power of a name works only once. Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."
Martha fell backwards, unconscious, and would have hit the floor if Eris hadn't caught her. Her arms strained as she set the girl down properly, and the Doctor examined her quickly.
"What have you done?"
Lilith frowned at them.
"Only sleeping, alas. It's curious. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you, Sir Doctor." This time, her words had no effect whatsoever. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?"
"The naming won't work on me."
"No, perhaps not. But what of you?" And she stepped towards Eris, who stood to block her path to Martha. They were just about the same height. "You are something quite special indeed."
A slight smirk twitched at the corners of Eris' mouth.
"Is that so?"
"Oh yes." Lilith's hands were cool as they rested against her face. "A rare beauty."
Eris raised an eyebrow. "Well, I could say the same about you." One of her hands rested at her side, and she started to tap in Morse code against the back of her thigh, knowing her dad would see. The message was simple. Take Martha and run - I'll keep the witch distracted. Her other hand settled on Lilith's shoulder as the girl spoke again.
"But you are entirely unique. A figure like no other, standing against the winds of time for centuries. The only one in this universe of your kind - with a touch of Eternity about you."
Alarmed, Eris took a step backwards. The Doctor noticed that she was shaking, and stepped forwards to take over the conversation.
"The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?"
Lilith sniffed; this was clearly a sensitive topic of conversation.
"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."
"And how did you escape?"
"New words. New and glittering, from a mind like no other."
"Shakespeare."
"His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."
Regaining control of her nerves, Eris rejoined the conversation.
"How many of you?"
"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world we will lead the universe back into the old ways of blood and magic."
The Doctor scoffed.
"Hmm. Busy schedule. But first you've got to get past us."
A smile crept onto her face. "Oh, that should be a pleasure, considering my enemies both have such a wonderful shape."
He rolled his eyes.
"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not going to work on me."
"Oh, we'll see."
She reached up, stroking his hair softly - before pulling a fistful of it out and stepping back. He winced, rubbing the back of his head.
"What did you do?"
"Souvenir."
"Well, give it back."
He made a swipe at her, but she blew the window behind her open and flew backwards to hang in the air. He and Eris exchanged looks.
"Well, that's just cheating."
"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets."
Lilith raised a small wooden doll, and wrapped the strands of the Doctor's hair around it. None of them noticed Martha stirring on the floor behind them.
"Now, you might call that magic. I'd call that a DNA replication module."
The witch laughed. "What use is your science now?" And she stabbed the doll with a pin. The Doctor dropped to the floor. As Martha and Eris rushed to help him, Lilith flew away, cackling as she went.
"Oh my God, Doctor. Don't worry, I've got you." Martha noticed that Eris was considerably less concerned about the Doctor than she was - and then realised why. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"
He grinned up at them. "You're making a habit of this." They helped him up, but he collapsed, a hand on his chest. "Ah! I've only got one heart working. How do you people cope? I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!"
Martha did as he asked, and he groaned. "Dah! Other side. Now, on the back, on the back."
She hit him again, with little success. "Left a bit."
This one worked, and he got to his feet. "Lovely. There we go. Badda boomba! Well, what are you standing there for? Come one! The Globe!"
And he dashed off down the stairs, leaving the others with little choice but to follow.
Unfortunately, for all the Doctor's time spent adventuring, his sense of direction was terrible. He'd taken the lead in directing them back towards the Globe, but both Eris and Martha had realised something.
"We're going the wrong way!"
The Doctor shouted back at them.
"No, we're not!"
Eris stopped Martha from following him, and shot her a look that said 'just wait'. It didn't take long for her dad to race back past them, going in the opposite direction.
"We're going the wrong way!"
Rolling their eyes at each other, the girls followed.
As they rounded the corner, they could see the harsh red glow of the clouds against the darkness of the night. The street preacher they'd bumped into earlier was shaking all over, wagging a finger at the sky.
"I told thee so! I told thee!"
The three of them paused for a moment, before Eris pointed towards a small arched door.
"Back entrance, come on!"
An artificial storm was raging over the building, sending the audience into a wild panic. All of the doors had been sealed by the witches, save for the stage door at the back. The trio opened it to reveal Will, slumped on a pile of costumes. The Doctor groaned.
"Stop the play. I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!"
"I hit my head."
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald."
There was an increase in the volume of screams from the audience, and Eris moved for the door.
"I think that's our cue!"
They ran out onto the stage, Martha helping Will to stay upright. It was immediately clear where the problem was coming from - high up in one of the boxes, were the three witches. Lilith spotted them.
"The Doctor. He lives. Then watch this world become a blasted heath!" A sudden surge of power, and Lilith grinned. "They come. They come!"
She lifted the crystal ball, and bat-like creatures burst into existence, circling the audience a few The Doctor grabbed Will's arm and pulled him forwards.
"Come on, Will! History needs you!"
"But what can I do?"
"Reverse it!"
"How am I supposed to do that?"
Eris made eye contact with him.
"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it."
"But what words? I have none ready!"
An eye roll from the Doctor. "You're William Shakespeare!"
"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision."
"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they, like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm. Words that last forever. That's what you do, Will. You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise."
Will nodded, took a breath, and turned to project to the whole crowd.
"Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot. You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!"
In the stands, Lilith gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
"No! Words of power!"
"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points-"
He faltered, and Eris picked a string of numbers out of thin air.
"Seven six one three nine oh!"
"Seven six one three nine oh! Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…"
He ran out of ideas again, and turned to the others for help. But this time, neither the Doctor nor Eris had any idea what to say. It was Martha that came to the rescue.
"Expelliarmus!"
Shakespeare spread his arms wide. "Expelliarmus!"
The Carrionites started to scream, and the Doctor and Eris grinned at the girl - she really was good.
Lilith howled. "The deep darkness! They are consumed!"
The doors behind them burst open, and the remaining copies of the script were drawn up into the sky. The black-cloaked Carrionites were sucked into the tornado along with them, screeching in pain. A flash of bright light and a deafening bang, and the sky was clear again.
For almost a minute, the Globe Theatre was deathly quiet. The audience members stared up, bewildered by the sudden disappearance of the creatures. And then-
Applause.
A few people, at first. But soon it had spread and the entire space was filled with the sound of clapping and cheering.
Martha turned to speak to her friends, but they'd wandered off somewhere, so she spoke to Will instead.
"They think it was all special effects?"
He smirked. "Your effect is special indeed."
She rolled her eyes. "It's not your best line."
With very little else to do, they took their bows for the audience.
Meanwhile, the Doctor and Eris had made their way up to the box where the witches had been sitting. It was empty now, besides the crystal ball. Eris picked it up and shook it violently. The Doctor was surprised by the spark of anger in her eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"Do I look alright?" Her response was rather more acidic than he'd expected. She sighed and passed the ball to him. "Sorry. What she said earlier… it scared me. I certainly wasn't expecting it."
He tucked it into his pocket and put an arm around her shoulder.
"I know hearing that was a bit of a shock. But we'll figure it out, me and you. I promise."
Morning came, and things had calmed down considerably. Martha, Eris and Will were perched on the edge of the stage, the girls listening intently as Will cracked a few jokes.
"... and I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer."
Eris smothered a laugh, partly at the joke and partly at Martha's look of confusion.
"I don't get it."
"Then give me a joke from Freedonia."
"Okay, Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says… 'Oi mate, you're Bard.'"
This got a laugh from all of them, and Will leant towards her a little.
"That's brilliant. Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Now come here."
His arm wound around Martha's waist, and she looked a little unnerved.
"I've only just met you."
"The Doctor may never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink."
He didn't seem too bothered by her response, and turned to Eris instead.
"Would you allow me?"
She smiled softly. "As flattered as I am by that offer, I think you know you're not really my type."
He laughed. "Yes, but I thought it was worth trying."
The Doctor appeared from the costume room, wearing a large white ruff around his neck and carrying some kind of animal skull.
"Good props store back there. I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."
Will raised an eyebrow.
"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."
"I should be on ten percent. How's your head?"
"Still aching."
"Here, I got you this." He took the ruff off and secured it around Will's neck. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it. It suits you."
Martha looked up at him.
"What about the play?"
"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labours Won went up in the sky."
Will sighed. "My lost masterpiece."
Martha offered a comforting smile. "You could write it up again."
Eris pulled a face.
"Yeah, better not, Will. There's still power in those words. It would be best if it stays forgotten."
The playwright grinned.
"Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."
Martha felt her jaw drop slightly. "Hamnet?"
"That's him."
"Hamnet?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Sensing an awkward conversation in the making, the Doctor tugged Eris to her feet.
"Anyway, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot can scream for all eternity, and we've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."
Will stood too, kissing Eris' hand. "You mean travel on through time and space."
The Doctor's eyes widened. "You what?"
"You're from another world like the Carrionites, and Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out."
"That's incredible. You are incredible."
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." He turned to Martha, and took both her hands in his. "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
Martha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Further back on the stage, the Doctor rolled his eyes and pressed a fiver into Eris' open hand.
The moment was interrupted by two of Will's actors bursting in from the street.
"Will!"
"Will, you'll never believe it. She's here! She's turned up!"
"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again."
Martha frowned. "Who?"
"Her Majesty. She's here."
There was fanfare, and an unmistakable figure appeared in the entryway flanked by two guards. The enormous gilded dress, the red curls, the piercing eyes. There was only one person it could possibly be.
The Doctor's grin practically split his face in two. "Queen Elizabeth the First!"
"Doctor!" She hissed in response.
His smile dropped. "What?"
"My sworn enemy."
"What?"
"Off with his head!"
"What?!"
Martha grabbed his hand. "Never mind what, just run! See you, Will, and thanks."
As the three of them made a run for it, Eris bringing up the rear, they heard Elizabeth give her orders.
"Stop that pernicious Doctor."
And the sound of William Shakespeare howling with laughter mixed with the sound of the guards running after them.
They darted through the streets of Southwark, still being followed.
"Stop in the name of the Queen!"
Martha looked over her shoulder as they reached the Tardis, alarmed to see how closely they were being followed.
"What have you done to upset her?"
The Doctor shrugged.
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out."
He opened the door and let her duck under his arm. Eris grinned up at him as she stepped inside.
"That's something for you to look forward to then."
Seeing the leading man raise his bow, the two of them got in and closed the door behind them, hearing a loud thunk as an arrow landed in the wood.
See you soon, and happy reading!
Much love,
Azzie xx