The Doctor had reached his ship in twenty-seven minutes. He'd needed another five minutes to install the cochlolinite and restore power. Thirty-four minutes after leaving the caves he stepped from the TARDIS into the center of the village.
The guard at the gate gawped at him, but he paid the man no mind. The Oncoming Storm strode toward the public house with heavy, rapid steps. He flung open the door and demanded, "Where is she?"
Four daggers and three clubs were raised toward him. Seven men yelped as quick electric shocks shot through their arms. The weapons clattered to the floor.
Sagar stood up to face him. "Doctor. You have returned."
"Where is she?" he repeated furiously.
His dark glower was sufficient to make the leader take a single step back. The Doctor's arm shot out again to deliver another jolt with the sonic screwdriver, and an eighth weapon fell to the ground.
Sagar's eyes widened at the small yet powerful device gripped in the visitor's hand.
The Doctor ground out, "Next time they won't be left standing."
Sagar nodded and motioned for the men to move back. The Time Lord's gaze swept the room. Something in the kitchen doorway caught his eye. He saw a small, bare foot. He hurried toward the kitchen, his hearts hammering in his chest.
Friya sat slumped against the wall. At first he thought she was unconscious, but then he realized that her eye was swollen shut. Her left arm hung limply at her side.
"Friya," he said gently, suppressing the rage in his voice. He crouched beside her and touched her shoulder softly.
She flinched back immediately, her good eye opening fully to stare at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Sorry? For what?" he asked, quickly scanning her head with the screwdriver.
She swallowed and closed her eye again. "I… told them."
The Doctor examined her arm gently. It was broken in two places. "Told them what?"
"That… you'd gone… to the caves. Kuroq… has her."
"I know, but I'm going to get her back." There was no blame in his tone. He cupped her uninjured cheek tenderly. "Hold on, Friya. I'm coming back for you, too, and I'm going to take you away from here, someplace where you'll be safe."
She nodded gratefully.
He stood and returned to the common room. "Anyone else lays a finger on Friya, he's dead." His glare hit every single man. "Now where the hell is Kuroq?"
Sagar had sunk down onto a bench, but he looked up. "He did it. He hit Friya over and over again."
"An' you let him."
"We keep our women in their place, but we don't try to kill them. If we hadn't stopped him—"
"At least you did," the Time Lord bit back.
"We did." Sagar gestured toward a man who'd been hunched in the far corner. At a cursory glance, the Doctor had assumed he was inebriated to the point of unconsciousness, but now he could see that blood stained the man's chest.
"Dead?" the Doctor asked curtly.
Sagar nodded. "Kuroq has gone too far."
"Will you help me stop him?"
The leader stood and reached for a dagger. "I will."
The Doctor made no attempt to curtail the man as he slid the wicked weapon into the sheath at his hip.
Kuroq's fetid breath burned Rose's eyes, and she looked away. His massive hand was wrapped around her neck, but he'd told her in no uncertain terms that he'd leave her conscious for what was to come next.
"Fight me, though, and I'll break you neck," he warned.
She struggled to draw breath. Her arms were pinned uncomfortably behind her back, and the weight of his stomach pressed over her chest. He straddled her, his trousers around his ankles. His other hand was on her thigh: He was forcing her legs apart.
He glanced down at the skirt that hindered full movement of her legs. With a grunt of frustration, he tugged it up. He shifted slightly, permitting Rose to roll onto her shoulder for an instant. His fingers tightened over her throat, and she gasped.
"Stay still!" he commanded, his rough, dirty hand grasping at her edge of her knickers.
She waited until his eyes moved down again, and then her arm shot out to reach for the lantern on the small table beside his bed. He looked up at the movement, just in time to see the metal cage slam into his cheek.
He howled in pain and rage, and his hand left her throat. Rose delivered a swift, hard kick to his groin then pulled her legs back. Rapidly she rolled from the bed, landing on her hands and knees on the floor.
She had nearly gotten to her feet when his beefy hand closed around her hair. He jerked her head back and flung her to the ground. Her head thumped against the sturdy bedpost, and Rose's eyes fluttered then shut. She lay motionless, her neck at a strange angle, still supported by the post.
"Woman!" Kuroq barked, slapping her cheek.
She did not move. He growled in frustration, angry that she would not experience his wrath. But if she woke afterwards, she'd feel it; he'd be certain that she knew what he'd done to her. He tugged her skirt out of the way and brutally pushed her legs apart again.
He bent to speak into her ear, telling her precisely what he planned for her. His hands were pressed against the floor, on either side of her head. His knee nudged hard at her thigh. His words incited him, and he rubbed his pelvis over her roughly.
Then Kuroq bawled out in pain as Rose's teeth closed over his ear. She bit down for all she was worth, and then some, tasting blood almost immediately. It was hot, salty, and foul, but she didn't care. She kept her jaw clenched even as he tried to pull away. She felt something rip, and blood flowed over her cheek and chin.
Her hands pummeled his back, but his body pressed over hers prevented her from using her legs. Finally he managed to yank his head away. Rose spat the blood from her mouth then stared up at his livid face.
She was going to die. She knew that unequivocally now. He didn't care anymore about making her suffer; he only cared about exacting revenge for the pain she'd inflicted on him.
His hand closed around her throat again, but not before she managed to spit out, "Go to hell!"
She couldn't breathe, and the room was growing dark. She thought about her mother, about Mickey, but most of all about the Doctor. He'd never know—
Rose gasped as a little air managed to enter her windpipe. The intense pressure had left her neck, but now Kuroq lay over her, his bulk a crushing weight against her chest. She wheezed in an attempt to inhale. The darkness had not dissipated, and there was a dull rushing in her ears.
Then suddenly he was shifting, rolling away from her, and light was returning. She blinked and realized that the noise she'd heard was voices. Two men were talking—shouting, more like—and one voice was so familiar that it made her heart ache.
"Rose!"
The Doctor was on his knees at her side, his hand moving over her jumper. His head swiveled back and forth, his eyes locking on her chest then returning to Kuroq, who lay in a great lump at her side. The brute's flank was wet and red. She realized muzzily it was too much blood to have come from his ear.
"She's not cut," the Doctor said sharply. "It's from him."
Another man said, "The dagger didn't go all the way through."
"But it could have!" the Time Lord retorted angrily.
Yet even as he said the words, his tone was softening. One hand pressed gently against her throat, while the other touched her face tentatively. His eyes were fixed on her now, his focus singular.
"Rose?"
"'M… all right," she croaked, but her voice sounded funny.
His fingers moved gently over her throat. "He tried to choke her," he said, but not to her.
"Is she hurt badly?" Rose recognized the voice as Sagar.
"I don't know. There's a lot of blood…" His cool fingers moved over her cheeks and brow.
"His," she rasped out. "It's his."
"Can you sit up?" the Doctor asked, watching her carefully.
She nodded, and he helped her with a firm, strong hand at her shoulders. The change in position seemed to ease her breathing a little, and she finally drew a steady breath. The Doctor's hand had moved to rest against her back.
"That's is," he said encouragingly, "just take small breaths."
Once assured that her basic respiratory function was unimpaired, his eyes roamed quickly over her. She realized her skirt was still pushed up around her hips and reached down to adjust it. His gaze followed her movements, and then he looked up at her face, an unspoken question in his eyes.
"I'm all right," she repeated, her voice a bit less shaky now. Even so, she wasn't sure he believed her.
She tried to brush the hair out of her eyes, but it was sticky and clumped with blood. Her stomach lurched, and for a moment she thought she would be ill. But then the Doctor was wiping her face with a cold, wet cloth as Sagar crouched behind him holding a basin.
"Thanks," she said, closing her eyes as the rag moved softly beneath them. She kept her eyes shut until she felt the Doctor's gentle hands smoothing back her hair.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on Kuroq's body. He lay on his side, and she could see the dark smear all around his ear and over his shoulder. His sightless eyes were open.
She didn't realize that she'd made a noise, but she must have, because the Doctor took her arm and carefully helped her to her feet.
"Come on, let's get out of here," he said, steering her around the body and toward the door.
Her legs were weak; she leaned against his solid frame, gladly accepting the support he offered her. Once they stepped out of the house and the cold air rushed over her, Rose felt more alert and a bit stronger.
"I'll take you back to the TARDIS, then I'll get Friya," the Doctor was saying.
"No, we have to get all of 'em," she corrected.
"We will, but Friya's been hurt, and she needs treatment."
Rose stopped abruptly and looked up at him. "Kuroq?" she asked simply.
He nodded, rage simmering in his eyes again. "But she's alive. An' so are you."
Suddenly she was wrapped in his arms, the thudding of his hearts like thunder in her ears.
When he finally drew back, she said, "Let's get Friya, then. Public house, yeah?"
"You don't need to come with me. You can wait in the ship—"
She shook her head resolutely. "No. She's hurt because of us, isn't she?" Rose didn't need the Doctor to explain to her why Kuroq had attacked Friya. The woman's part in their escape and eventual capture was quite clear to her.
He seemed on the brink of arguing. However, she put her hand in his and urged him on. She saw the TARDIS sitting near the village wall, but she purposefully turned toward the public house.
They entered to incredulous stares, although she couldn't tell if the expressions were a reaction to her or to the Doctor, or to both. She really didn't care.
"She's in here," the Time Lord told her, nodding toward the kitchen.
Friya was huddled against the wall. Her face was a mess, and her right arm looked strange.
"Oh God," Rose said, dropping to her knees so that she could lay a hand softly on the woman's shoulder. "That bastard."
"He won't hurt anyone else."
Those words barely helped, but she supposed it was something… "How badly is she hurt?"
"Arm's broken in two places, fracture to the cheekbone, too, as well as concussion. But I can sort it; she'll be fine."
Friya was only semi-conscious. Even so, the Doctor spoke softly to her before he lifted her into his arms. He told her that he was going to help, that she needn't be afraid, and that the pain would be gone soon.
He carried her through the common room and out the door, Rose at his heels. She walked with him to the TARDIS, but when he stepped inside then turned back to look at her, she shook her head.
"Come on, Rose. When I finish with her, I'll take care of your injuries."
"I'm fine," she said unwaveringly. "I wanna go talk to the other women, tell 'em what's goin' on, that we're gonna get them away from here."
"Rose, you should really come with me—"
She folded her arms over her chest, trying not to notice the deep ache in her ribs. "Later. Take care of her, an' I'll take care of the others."
He relented with a shrug then disappeared inside the ship. Rose walked back to the house where she had awakened the previous day. She frowned as she disengaged the exterior bolt. Then she lifted her chin purposefully. This would end today.
To be continued…
