Doctor Who: The Boy Who Remembered (Fan Fic)

Chapter 7: To Slay A Dragon

The skies hung grey across the open fields, just as they had since the first day the strangers had arrived in old England. A soft rain had dampened the countryside, muddying the roads, weighing their attire, and soaking them to the bone. Still, the company rode forward, ever growing further from the fading stones of London. There were only three that had ridden out through the western gate and all had been quite sure that none would return. Not one of the locals had held the courage to gaze upon the riders as they strode forth from the city, for all had known where their road would end. It was no secret that to the west laid the lair of the beast, the den of the dragon.

Sire William Marshall rode at the head of their procession dressed in his full plated armor. There was no mistaking the war torn signs of battle that scratched his shield and had worn his steel. Despite having been sent to his presumed death, the knight still held his head high and wore his sigil with pride. Squire French rode behind him on his own pony, and had even been given a proper outfit fitting his station. Leather had been strapped across his torso, for no chainmail would fit, over which had been draped a fresh tunic with the King's colors. He had even been given a sword and a small circular shield, although he had a feeling he could use neither should the need arise. All the while the Doctor had remained upon his own mount dressed in his formalwear after having protested against the need for armor. He had even refused sword and shield when they were offered claiming all he would need was his sonic screwdriver.

"I hate this," complained Benjamin. "All of this stuff feels weird, and it's heavy too."

The Doctor remained fixed on the road ahead, "You don't see me complaining about the horse. Although I am rather good at it. Forgot that little fact. Admittedly, it has been awhile. Think the last time would have been with Liz the First. My third wife if I'm remembering it correctly. Besides, how are you going to fight a dragon while you're still in your pajamas?"

The boy did not find any comfort in the sentiment, "I don't get it. They let you stay in your clothing."

"That's because a three piece is perfect for any occasion," argued the Doctor. "Plus, I'm wearing a fashionable scarf."

"Oh, that must be it! You've got a scarf! Because you're sure to catch a cold after the dragon sets you on fire."

"No one's getting set on fire today, thank you very much."

Sire William Marshall had been quiet until this point in their journey, "Your certainty is ill-founded Sire Doctor. What makes you so sure we will succeed where all others have failed?"

"Because you've got me," he answered with steadfast confidence.

The knight was not as convinced, "Perhaps you are a fool after all."

"That's not a question, he definitely is," agreed Benjamin.

The Doctor chose to ignore their comments, "Surprised the King didn't send us with more knights. What's stopping us from just running away?"

"I am," declared Sire William. "My fate may be bound to yours but I am also here to assure you stay the course."

"Suppose we decided to run away?"

"You won't."

"But suppose we did, what would you do to stop us?"

Sire William's hand rested atop the hilt of his blade, "I would advise against such action. We ride towards the lands of death, but if you would sooner see its shores then so be it."

"Right then," the Doctor returned to watching the road. "Dumb question."

The company rode towards a high hill that stood some miles beyond the edge of the county. It was rumored that deep within a hidden hollow burrowed out of the hill was the place the dragon had built its den. For decades, people had lived in the few scattered villages and settlements surrounding the hill, but all of that had changed. A year before the Doctor's arrival something had awoken the slumbering beast and since then it had laid waste to all that had stood within its reach. The villages were rendered to ash, and those who had survived fled with tales of horror that spread across England like wildfire.