Chapter 2
Rory had worried that it might be difficult to track the Rixxi, but he had no problem finding or following their trail. They had crushed small trees like an express train and cut a swath through the jungle ten feet wide. Soon, he came across a dirt track that must have been made by thousands of Rixxi over many years. He stayed close to it, but just within the trees so he could duck out of sight if necessary. A couple of times he flinched at the buzzing of insects from the trees above, but there were no signs of the pursuit.
The biggest problem was the rain. It had only been a faint drizzle when he left Amy, but it had become heavier. Now it was falling in great heavy drops. He had given up trying to dry his face of the worst of it. His grandmother's words came to mind: "You'll catch your death in that rain, Rory."
At least Amy would be dry.
After walking for about a mile through puddles and mud, the trees began to thin around the path. The insects became quieter and a low musical hum filled the air. Rory climbed into the undergrowth and made more careful progress towards the sounds.
The Rixxi were keeping dry as well. They had gathered under a shelter like a marquee with the walls removed. The roof seemed to be made of branches and ferns and the supports were great trunks of wood. A crackling fire was lit in the centre of the space and the Rixxi were dancing to the drone of two long didgeridoo pipes.
As he watched, Rory realised what had disconcerted him about the aliens before. They were short. Really short. From his vantage just within the trees, he reckoned that the tallest must have been about four and a half feet, but most were much less. The women were smaller, but just as muscular. They all had tattoos extending around their legs and arms and onto their faces in complex swirls and tribal patterns. They wore smock type jerkins down to mid-thigh and tight hats over their unruly hair. Some had daggers hanging from the waist of the jerkins, but the spears were piled to one side.
He spotted the Doctor close to the fire. It looked like he was seated in the guest of honour position in a large wooden throne. Two of the Rixxi were standing at his knees. This seemed to be some kind of ceremonial position as they did not dance with the others. Each of them had a tall spear that crossed above the Doctor's head.
The Doctor was dry, too. He chatted happily to the two guards, who seemed to be ignoring him. At this distance it was impossible to hear what was being said, but Rory could imagine a long and animated discourse on something smart.
And if that had been it, he would not have felt so worried.
As it was, a deep fear was sinking into his stomach. Something was seriously wrong. How could the Doctor look so happy when his hands and feet were bound to the throne with rope? And that pot simmering on the fire looked big enough to cook a human. Or a Time Lord.
Rory waited for a few minutes, just watching and wiping the rain out of his eyes. It tasted strange where it dripped into his mouth, but he tried to ignore it and concentrate on the scene under the shelter. He told himself he was patiently gathering information, but he knew he was gathering courage. The Doctor continued to chatter away and made no effort to escape his bindings.
Finally, Rory accepted that there was nothing else to be done. He had to rescue the Doctor.
Creeping around the shelter was easy. All the dancers were concentrating on the fire and adding vegetables to the cooking pot. He tried to move quietly, but it was probably a wasted effort. The sound of the rain drowned out any noise he might have made. He slipped a couple of times on the slick leaves, but the Rixxi did not see him. Neither did the Doctor.
As he got closer, he could make out what the Doctor was saying over the droning music.
"...and I do love what you're doing with the spices. Is that all for me? It's very generous of you, but I'm not good with oregano. Well, when I say not good, I mean I've never been cooked with it before, but it's something I just feel instinctively. And that looks like an interesting kind of root vegetable. The peach fruits were good earlier, but of course I'm not sure if they are more of a dessert type dish. I would have to bow to your superior experience in this matter. I bet you don't get many of your meals telling you what worked and what didn't. Probably just a case of trying it to see."
Rory frowned. Something was really, really wrong.
"Rather a lot of rain there is. I don't remember that from the last time, because I visited here once. I think I've told you that. Maybe a few times. I'm having difficulty following the thread of a conversation. It's a new experience for me. Normally I like new experiences, but this one is rather different. What was I saying... yes... rain. When I was here before, the Rixxi had weather control and it's nice to see that the natural climate is reasserting itself. By the way, why your isn't your city here any more? Have I asked you that already? Have you answered? Not sure As I said, I'm having some problems with following the thread of a conversation. Although this is more monologue than dialogue, don't you..." He paused and looked horrified. "No!"
Rory froze. There was something about the way the Doctor said it that struck terror into him. He looked around, expecting to see the Rixxi attacking, or some new horror descending upon them. But the Doctor's shout seemed to have surprised them as well. The dancers were staring at the Doctor. The music had stopped.
"You can't do that! That's ridiculous."
Rory held his breath.
"You can't be thinking of putting a fish in with those spices, are you?"
The Rixxi nearest the pot stopped. Under the Doctor's glare, he replaced the fish on the plate.
"Good. Because if you are going to cook me, I'd rather you didn't mix your meats."
What was the Doctor playing at?
Rory paused just beyond the shelter. He was still out of sight among the trees. What was he supposed to do now? The Doctor would have had some spark of genius, or a crazy ill-considered plan that just worked. But he was just Rory, and he did not have a clue.
What would Amy do, he thought desperately. He smiled a little when he realised the answer. She wouldn't think. She would just do.
Without any further hesitation, because if he hesitated he might wimp out, he crept beyond the cover of the trees and towards the throne. He edged around the side and began to untie the ropes around the Doctor's wrists. The bindings were thick, but his fingers found the knot and began loosening it. If the Doctor could keep the Rixxi distracted for a couple of minutes, they might make it out of here after all.
Instead, the Doctor looked at him and said, "Oh, hello Rory. What are you doing down there?"
Rory looked up at the Rixxi. The music carried on and most were still dancing, but those nearest were staring straight at him.
"Are you going to untie me? That would be good. And helpful. Have I introduced you to my friends? Well, when I say friends, I'm not so sure that they are my friends. They might be your friends, Rory, but they have tied me to this chair and that is unfriendly. You see that big cook pot over there? I suspect that I'm going to end up in there and be eaten. Cannibalism is frowned upon by many civilisations, but given that I'm not the same species, that's technically incorrect.."
"Doctor," Rory said quietly. "Is there something wrong?"
He answered in the loudest stage whisper Rory had ever heard. Every one of the Rixxi stopped moving and looked at the two of them. "Yes, Rory. There is something wrong. I think I've been poisoned. See that goblet over there? I'd point, but my hands are a bit tied up at the moment. Keep untying by the way. That goblet was full of stuff and they made me drink it. Or they poured it down my throat, and it's hard not to drink something that is being poured down your throat when you're tied to a chair with rope. So yes, something wrong. They gave me poison. And now my thinking is a bit muddled... It's hard to follow the thread of a conversation. It's a good thing you were not captured, Rory. I'm managing to hold it off without too much of an effect on my faculties..."
"You think?" Rory muttered as he worked at the knots.
"But who knows what it might do to human physiology. It could be really dangerous, but it feels quite nice. Although I'm not sure why the Rixxi eat something that's been poisoned, but I've never tried cannabilism before so am ill qualified to comment. It might help with appreciating the local music. I do like it. Although," he said thoughtfully, "there are possibly other effects. It's an unusual poison, certainly. Difficult to characterise. You're a nurse, you'll understand there is a very fine line between poisoning and medicinal actions. Arsenic, for example..."
"Umm, Doctor. Do you think you could be quiet for a minute?"
"Are you telling me to shut up?"
"Yes."
"I'll try." He stuck his freed hand over his mouth.
The Rixxi were very still. They did not make an attempt to stop Rory as he began to work on the other hand. Perhaps the gibberish was just as confusing to them.
"Good work," the Doctor mumbled through his fingers. "Work faster."
The second hand was free, and the crowd still waited. What were they waiting for? Rory started on the ankles. One of the Rixxi began to advance forward, and another removed his knife slowly from its scabbard. Rory swore under his breath and ran his hands through his wet hair. There was so much rain in it that the effect was like a dog shaking after a bath. Droplets sprayed everywhere. He tried to decide what he was supposed to do to fight off an angry mob.
They did not attack. Instead, they shrank further back as if something had scared them. He did not understand, but there was no time to work it out. That was one foot free, and the other was nearly untied.
"Faster, Rory."
"I am going faster." His fingers slipped on the slick rope. Then it was free.
Whatever had scared them seemed to evaporate as soon as Rory pulled the Doctor to stand. As one, the crowd began to advance forward. Little daggers glinted in the firelight.
Now would be a really good time for a flash of brilliance, Rory thought. Perhaps some kind of sonic screwdriver magic, or a speech that convinced the Rixxi to let them go back to the TARDIS with their blessing. He held his breath and waited.
Instead, the Doctor said, "What do we do now?"
If this was a joke, it was not funny. Not funny at all. "Right, emm, well..."
"Rory. Do something!" the Doctor said urgently as the Rixxi moved closer.
He could only think of one thing to do. He grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled. "Run!"