and pushed through heavy glass doors into the
exhibition itself.
Various rooms stretched away in
front of her. People wandered around in the dreamy, irritating
way they do in museums. A security guard lifted his head and
looked at her. She walked on.
The ticket seller had pushed a
leaflet into her hand, and only now did she stop to read the
front.
The Hoard of the
King
Early
Scandinavian treasures recently uncovered in
Sweden
Presented by the Moxon Collection
Jo found the Doctor on the second
floor of the museum. He was staring through the glass of a
cabinet in the centre of the room. Inside the cabinet was an
unbelievably beautiful helmet with a face mask attached. It
appeared to be silver and gold, and was polished so fiercely it
shone like a small sun under the bright lights.
‘Is that what we’ve come to
steal?’ whispered Jo as she stepped up beside him.
The Doctor shook his head almost
imperceptibly. He nodded through the glass of the cabinet in
which the helmet sat to another, taller, case in the corner of
the room. Inside that case was a spear.
Its shaft was simple enough – of
wood that had done well to last the best part of two thousand
years – but the head of the spear was another thing of wonder
and beauty. Made of a long tapering piece of gold, it too glowed
brightly in the beam of a small spotlight.
‘Do you see it?’ asked the
Doctor.
‘Can we take a closer look?’
whispered Jo.
The room was emptying of people. A
guard sat in one corner, almost asleep in her chair.
The Doctor nodded. ‘Yes. But don’t
linger.’
They took a circuit of the room
and tried not to dawdle as they passed the spear. Now they were
closer, they could see small markings cut into the flat parts of
the golden tip.
‘Runes,’ said the Doctor. ‘In
Elder Futhark from the look of them.’ He turned to Jo. ‘The
runic alphabet of the Norsemen.’
Jo bent to peer through the glass
at the gold. ‘What does it say?’
‘There are no doubt more markings
on the other side, but those we can see from here say
Gungnir
.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It’s a name.’
‘Of the man who owned it?’
‘No. Of the spear itself.’
‘The spear has a name?’
The Doctor nodded.
Jo suddenly straightened. ‘Is it a
good idea to be seen at the scene of the crime?’ she whispered,
glancing over her shoulder.
‘It’s not a crime scene,’ said the
Doctor. ‘Yet.’
He winked, allowing himself one
more close look at the spearhead, then took Jo by the arm. ‘Time
to go, I think,’ he said, and they headed for the stairs,
hurrying down to the ground floor. ‘Did you enjoy the
exhibition?’
‘What exhibition? I saw one helmet
and one spear.’
Jo smiled brightly at a security
guard on the door, who was staring openly at the Doctor’s
clothes. ‘Fascinating!’ she declared loudly, and then they
emerged from the darkness into the sunshine, blinking their way
back into the modern world.
3
‘We believe that the spear is
not all it seems,’ explained the Doctor as they headed back to
UNIT headquarters. ‘There have been a few temporal anomalies in
the area.’
‘What kind of anomalies?’ asked
Jo.
The Doctor turned Bessie into the
drive that led to UNIT, and she chugged happily over the gravel
as if eager to be done for the day. It was getting late, the sun
starting to dip behind the tall trees that lined their
way.
‘Small things. Like several
watches all losing time at once; a rash of people getting a
feeling of déjà vu; a clock striking thirteen. Small things, so
small that they might have gone unnoticed, were it not for the
fact the museum is opposite the bridge club of a friend of ours.
He told me; I spoke to the Time Lords; and here we are …’
‘And who’s this friend of
ours?’
The Doctor smiled. ‘The Brigadier.
Ah! There’s the old greyhound now. Shall we make
exhibition itself.
Various rooms stretched away in
front of her. People wandered around in the dreamy, irritating
way they do in museums. A security guard lifted his head and
looked at her. She walked on.
The ticket seller had pushed a
leaflet into her hand, and only now did she stop to read the
front.
The Hoard of the
King
Early
Scandinavian treasures recently uncovered in
Sweden
Presented by the Moxon Collection
Jo found the Doctor on the second
floor of the museum. He was staring through the glass of a
cabinet in the centre of the room. Inside the cabinet was an
unbelievably beautiful helmet with a face mask attached. It
appeared to be silver and gold, and was polished so fiercely it
shone like a small sun under the bright lights.
‘Is that what we’ve come to
steal?’ whispered Jo as she stepped up beside him.
The Doctor shook his head almost
imperceptibly. He nodded through the glass of the cabinet in
which the helmet sat to another, taller, case in the corner of
the room. Inside that case was a spear.
Its shaft was simple enough – of
wood that had done well to last the best part of two thousand
years – but the head of the spear was another thing of wonder
and beauty. Made of a long tapering piece of gold, it too glowed
brightly in the beam of a small spotlight.
‘Do you see it?’ asked the
Doctor.
‘Can we take a closer look?’
whispered Jo.
The room was emptying of people. A
guard sat in one corner, almost asleep in her chair.
The Doctor nodded. ‘Yes. But don’t
linger.’
They took a circuit of the room
and tried not to dawdle as they passed the spear. Now they were
closer, they could see small markings cut into the flat parts of
the golden tip.
‘Runes,’ said the Doctor. ‘In
Elder Futhark from the look of them.’ He turned to Jo. ‘The
runic alphabet of the Norsemen.’
Jo bent to peer through the glass
at the gold. ‘What does it say?’
‘There are no doubt more markings
on the other side, but those we can see from here say
Gungnir
.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘It’s a name.’
‘Of the man who owned it?’
‘No. Of the spear itself.’
‘The spear has a name?’
The Doctor nodded.
Jo suddenly straightened. ‘Is it a
good idea to be seen at the scene of the crime?’ she whispered,
glancing over her shoulder.
‘It’s not a crime scene,’ said the
Doctor. ‘Yet.’
He winked, allowing himself one
more close look at the spearhead, then took Jo by the arm. ‘Time
to go, I think,’ he said, and they headed for the stairs,
hurrying down to the ground floor. ‘Did you enjoy the
exhibition?’
‘What exhibition? I saw one helmet
and one spear.’
Jo smiled brightly at a security
guard on the door, who was staring openly at the Doctor’s
clothes. ‘Fascinating!’ she declared loudly, and then they
emerged from the darkness into the sunshine, blinking their way
back into the modern world.
3
‘We believe that the spear is
not all it seems,’ explained the Doctor as they headed back to
UNIT headquarters. ‘There have been a few temporal anomalies in
the area.’
‘What kind of anomalies?’ asked
Jo.
The Doctor turned Bessie into the
drive that led to UNIT, and she chugged happily over the gravel
as if eager to be done for the day. It was getting late, the sun
starting to dip behind the tall trees that lined their
way.
‘Small things. Like several
watches all losing time at once; a rash of people getting a
feeling of déjà vu; a clock striking thirteen. Small things, so
small that they might have gone unnoticed, were it not for the
fact the museum is opposite the bridge club of a friend of ours.
He told me; I spoke to the Time Lords; and here we are …’
‘And who’s this friend of
ours?’
The Doctor smiled. ‘The Brigadier.
Ah! There’s the old greyhound now. Shall we make
Similar Books
