Compulsory Attendance
The Doctor swung himself down out of his saddle and stepped to Gwenhyfar's side. She dragged herself upright again, still clutching Bedwyr (who didn't seem inclined to let go), and faced the Doctor. Female Telashid were apparently shorter than males; standing, her eyes were on a level with his.
"You were the one who stole it?" he asked, the only factor he could think of that might lead to her death. Were the Telashid apt to exact capital punishment for the crime? If so, why did they not mention the thief, as Merelen had pointed out just minutes before? Something else was tickling his mind, but he brushed it off; getting to the bottom of this mystery was more important.
Gwenhyfar nodded. "I took it with me when I escaped, to prevent them using it against me."
"Use it how? What do you mean, escape?" The tickling was becoming more insistent, and he realized abruptly that it was an actual sensation, not a stray memory or idea. Even as he focused on it, it intensified into a needle-thin, piercing buzz lancing through his brain from forehead to the base of his skull. Tiny tendrils reached out from the lance to flicker and dance through and around his lobes as if looking for something to latch on to. Then, just as abruptly, even as he marshalled his wits to fight it off, it seeped out again, draining out like water from a colander.
Shaking his head, he glanced around at the others. Most were shaking their heads or rubbing their temples, but none seemed permanently affected.
Except Gwenhyfar. Her terrified eyes were laser-locked on his – but even as he looked back, they slipped out of focus, and the expression slowly drained off her face. The buzz had found its target. Her suddenly-nerveless fingers relaxed their hold on Bedwyr's short cloak, and her arms slipped off like dead weight to hang limply at her sides, as she turned slightly and tried to begin walking towards the village below.
Tried to. Bedwyr clutched her tighter, preventing her leaving, crying, "Gwen? Gwen! Look at me!"
"Bedwyr! Let her go!" called the Doctor, as she began to struggle to get free. Her heavy cloak had slipped back from her shoulders, revealing a plain black tunic falling to her knees above loose black trousers, its tight sleeves covering her double-jointed arms to the wrists. The Doctor's keen ears heard tiny telltale rips even as he sprang behind Bedwyr, throwing his arms around the knight and dragging him back a step, forcing him to let go. "Bedwyr! Look!" He pointed at those sleeves, now sprouting a pairs of long black talons at the points of her wrists and elbows. "Poison talons, Bedwyr. She would kill you with a scratch!"
"She would never..." Bedwyr hissed back.
"She's not herself, Bedwyr! She's under a compulsion! She doesn't even know you now!"
"A … " Bedwyr's brain seemed to take an extra second to translate the word the TARDIS slipped into his mind. "An enchantment?"
"Yes, an enchantment," the Doctor agreed.
"Then we must break it!" His certainty brooked no refusal, and the Doctor reacted instantly with his own.
"Oh, yes. That we shall. Come on!"
Gwenhyfar had by that time gotten several steps away, and was quickly gaining speed as she stumbled down the road. The Doctor didn't bother trying to stop her again, but ran on past her towards the four Telashid below, stretching his long legs in his most familiar mode of transportation. His ears picked up a horse behind him and he glanced back to see Merelen pacing him; she'd not dismounted during the quick scene above. (A tiny corner of his mind laughed at himself for running rather than riding, but he shrugged it off. Habit dies hard, and he'd been running for nine hundred years.) Bedwyr had slowed beside Gwenhyfar, anguished indecision etching his face, but a glance at her blank expression convinced him, and he pelted on behind the Doctor, one hand on his sword hilt. Most of the rest of the band of Britons were coming along, as well, trotting behind Gwenhyfar, and the Doctor spared a second to hope he could prevent a battle breaking out after all. The situation was decidedly tense.
The Doctor shook his head and faced about, taking in the scene before him in the street. The four Telashid warriors were still gathered about the Grallish, hands touching. The plate itself had levitated a few inches above its makeshift pedestal and was spinning like a gyroscope, the jewels visible only as brilliant, rainbowed flashes as each caught the sunlight and reflected it outward. As the Doctor pelted towards the group, the aliens slowly dropped their hands to their sides and opened up their circle, looking past him towards their female compatriot. Their contrapuntal chant (which the TARDIS still refused to translate) sped up, coming faster and louder, reflecting the excitement on their faces, and Gwenhyfar's stupored pace quickened in response.
Screeching to a halt between the lady and the trap, the Doctor spread his arms and snarled, "Whatever this is, whatever you're doing, I demand that you stop it immediately. This was not part of our agreement, and it's completely against all rules of civilized behavior..." Not even aware of his own words, he let his gob continue, trying just to get a reaction. The aliens ignored him as completely as if he wasn't there at all. He pulled out the sonic and buzzed it, but for once his beloved tool failed him, unable to even get a reading on whatever this power was. He dropped it back into his pocket with a frustrated grunt. Glancing to the side, he saw Merelen holding some talisman and chanting what must have been a countercurse. She caught his questioning look and shook her head, though she didn't stop; but apparently her human powers were as useless as his Time Lord technology against this alien menace.
"My Lord..." Bedwyr warned at his shoulder, and he glanced back to see Gwenhyfar only yards from the circle, her face as pale and empty as death. Bedwyr's sword was drawn, and he looked moments away from using it, his own face twisted in fury and outrage.
"Try to keep her back, but don't let her wound you," the Doctor shot at the knight, then looked at the four again. There seemed to be no way to break through, no way to stop this travesty...
Without conscious thought he reached again, not for his sonic, but for the great broadsword Caliburn, and it sprang to his hand as if it had been forged for him alone. Grasping the hilt with both hands, he raised it high above his head, and it hung there for a double heartbeat, flashing sunlight as brilliant as his fury, drawing every eye in the valley. The universe paused, breathless, waiting.
Before the Telashid could react, the Doctor darted between them, and then with all his might he brought the sword down in a magnificent arc and crashed it onto the center of the spinning Grallish.
