Author's Note: Thankyou everyone who reviewed the last chapter - EmmaMarie, MayFairy, xxTeam-Masterxx (x 2), Catelly, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, Theta'sWorstNightmare, NearlyHuman, Bernice-Summerfield, Dryu, MountainLord-92, Lady Brid, OhTex, Geraldine (x 2), Imorgen, irishartemis, SawManiac211, Aietradaea, kie1993 and Lost Moon.
To dryu - Thanks again for popping over to review. So glad you liked the carnival scenes, I really enjoyed visualising and writing them! As for Hart, read on and find out...
To Lady Brid - Hello there! So glad to have you back on board! Thank you very much for your comprehensive review, I loved reading it :)
Big wave to my new reviewer, kie1993, lovely to hear from you!
I'm very happy everyone seemed to like the creepy rhyme in the last chapter - as you've all probably guessed, it's based on the one in Season Six foretelling the Doctor's death. As I said to a few people, ticking clocks are actually supposed to be the Master's thing (as he commented in Last of the Time Lords: "I never could resist a ticking clock!") so I couldn't resist writing a version of the song for him.
I've been a bit more prompt about updating this time (largely because of all the lovely reviews), so hopefully you will all enjoy this chapter...
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
"You didn't seriously think you could escape from me, did you, my pretty little murderer?" Silas taunted, his fingers biting deeply into the soft skin of Tejana's upper arm. "I'm the best hunter and tracker on Mnemosyne. Your traitorous Slave-taker Captain is good, but not as good as he thinks!"
With one quick, theatrical movement, he stripped away Tejana's cloak, revealing her brief, silken slave garment to the curious crowd that was rapidly gathering around them.
"Now, my sweet, time to grovel on your knees at my feet, where you belong."
His grip tightened even further, enjoying the tension of her resistance, twisting her slender arm with brute strength until she had no choice but to fall to her knees before him on the filthy, manure-strewn ground. "Assume the position of the pleasure slave!" he commanded, playing like a showman to the crowd. "Display yourself to me! Back straight! Hands on your thighs! Knees wide!"
Then, as she didn't immediately obey, he kicked her knees viciously apart and then slapped her hard across the face. "I said, knees wide, slave!"
Intense humiliation burnt through Tejana's body, scorching her like a flame. She could feel the salacious eyes of the mob devouring her as they thoroughly enjoyed the unexpected performance. Behind her, she heard the Master's snarl of futile rage. But there was nothing either of them could do.
"Very nice," Silas approved, looking her up and down. "Women are born to serve men, that is the natural order of things. You've led me a merry dance, my lady. But now, you will submit to me as your new Master. I want to hear you say it out loud, for all these people to hear."
"No!" she ground out, her ingrained Gallifreyan pride revolting at the very idea. She was a Time Lady. She would rather die than say those words to a human, especially in front of her life-mate.
"Do it!" Silas ordered implacably. "Or I will slice your man's head off before your very eyes."
The Lordsmen holding the Master pulled his head back even further, baring his neck to the sword blade that rested against it. Agonised, Tejana's green eyes met his furious brown ones. Risking her own life through her refusal was one thing – but risking his was unacceptable.
I'm sorry, Koschei. I have to do this. Forgive me.
She pulled her gaze away from his, not wanting to see the look on his face as she spoke the demeaning words. Haughtily, she raised her chin and, with all the ancient arrogance of her people, shot Silas a clear look of contempt.
"I submit to you," she conceded, both hearts aching with shame as she heard the other Time Lord growl like a wounded animal. "...Master."
Silas laughed. "Well said, slave!" he mocked. "Now all I need to do is to teach you to mean it, yes? I think I'll enjoy that."
"I'm going to kill you," the Master promised viciously, his voice rasping with hatred. "And, believe me, when I do, it will make what I did to your friend Ivrium look merciful."
"You're hardly in the best position to make threats, stranger," Silas jeered, walking over to stand confidently in front of the captured Time Lord, his legs apart and his hands on his hips. "You don't seem to understand the situation – she's my slave now. And tonight I intend to take her to my bed and use her in every possible way a man can use a woman. Not only that, but I'm going to make you watch. And then, tomorrow, it will be her turn to watch, as I have you hung, drawn and quartered for all to see, a just punishment for the murderer of a Keep Lord."
Still kneeling where the Lordsman had left her, Tejana shuddered at his words, her mind flickering with a kaleidoscope of nightmare images of the Master being slaughtered in front of her, just as Turlough had been.
Tick tock, goes the clock...
Somehow, she had to stop this. Given half a chance, she would quite happily have plunged her knife into Silas's back, but with the sword blade hovering so close to the Master's throat, she didn't dare to move. Desperately, she scanned the crowd, searching for any possible help, any potential allies. But these peasants were quite content to watch the drama unfold, just like any other entertaining spectacle at the fair. Unlike Brandon and Corin back at the village, none of them showed the slightest inclination to risk challenging the Lordsmen on behalf of two strangers.
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Tejana saw a flash of red approaching through the throng. Hart! Surely it had to be Hart, coming back for them? A surge of desperate excitement rushed through her as she strained to make out the person's face through the confused tangle of the crowd. Come on, John, where are you? she begged silently. Just for once, let me trust in you!
But when the elusive figure finally reached the front of the gathering, not far from where Tejana knelt, the Time Lady nearly choked with disappointment. It was not Hart at all. It was the exotic fortune-teller she and the Master had encountered earlier, her scarlet dress glowing like a ruby against the coiling coal-black of her hair. The gypsy-woman seemed completely oblivious to her surroundings, gracefully gliding between the closely-packed people as if they weren't even there. As she swept past, Tejana realised her eyes were once again fastened on the Master to the exclusion of all else, glittering with purpose.
Unaware of the approaching woman, Silas was still relishing his triumph, making the most of his opportunity to taunt his prisoner. "I must admit," he grinned, inclining his head mockingly towards the Master. "I do owe you somewhat of a debt of gratitude, stranger. Despite his well-known sexual excesses, Lord Ivrium had no son. Even now, the nobles are quarrelling over the succession. Such a climate of political unrest can only be an advantage to an astute and ambitious man."
"Such as yourself, I suppose?" the Master sneered.
"Of course," Silas shrugged. "The majority of the Lordsmen are loyal to me. We are tired of being ruled by weak, vainglorious fools like Ivrium. I think a new regime is in order. Lord Silas...it has quite a ring to it, don't you think? And, just think, after you're dead, your woman will have the honour of being the first slave to grace my imperial harem."
One of the other Lordsmen sniggered loudly, looking over his leader's shoulder. "Don't speak too soon, sir. Looks like you might have another volunteer!"
Annoyed at being interrupted while he was enjoying himself, Silas swung around and saw the beautiful gypsy-woman standing just behind him, staring past him towards the Master.
"What is your business here, woman?" Silas snapped, unnerved by the fact that her gaze seemed to see right through him, as if he wasn't even there.
"My bussssinessss?" she echoed, her voice strangely sibilant. Oddly, her head began to weave back and forth as she spoke, a sinuous movement reminiscent of an angry cobra about to strike. "My bussssinessss issss none of your conccccern, human."
Suddenly, the lower half of her body seemed to undulate and lengthen, extending itself in long rippling waves, the scarlet dress molding itself to her burgeoning form, like a shimmering skin. Watching from behind, Tejana realised with horror that, below the waist, the woman now resembled nothing more than a gigantic snake, her long, scaly tail coiled in shining, vermilion loops around her. Above the waist, the monster retained the form of a beautiful woman, her abundant night-dark hair flowing wildly over her white shoulders. Sharp, curved fangs protruded over her blood-red lips and her obsidian eyes gleamed evilly as she reared high in the air above the astonished Silas.
"Ruach have mercy on us!" one of the Lordsmen screamed, releasing the Master and backing away in fear. "She's not a woman! She's a lamia!"
Frantically, Silas tried to draw his sword to defend himself, but he was far too slow. The lamia attacked with dizzying speed, her fanged mouth savagely tearing his head from his shoulders in the blink of an eye and tossing it aside. For one surreal moment, the Lordsman's headless corpse stood upright, as if in surprise that it was dead, before collapsing slowly to the ground, where it lay twitching feebly, blood fountaining grotesquely from the severed neck.
The lamia laughed at the gory sight and turned her attention back to the Master, licking her lips in anticipation.
"Kosssschei!" she hissed, caressing every syllable of the Master's name with her forked tongue. "Ssssso easssssy to tell you your future, handssssome. You haven't got one!"
The last remaining Lordsman seemed frozen to the spot in fear, his hand convulsively tightening in the Master's hair like a vice as he stared up at the lamia looming over them, his sword still at the Time Lord's throat. Taking advantage of his inattention, the Master seized his wrist and brutally twisted it in both hands until he heard it snap. The man howled in agony and dropped the sword, staggering backwards to be lost in the milling crowd.
Tejana saw the Master dive for the sword, just as the lamia struck at him, her distended fangs glistening with venom. But by now, overwhelming panic was sweeping through the audience like a forest fire, as it finally dawned on the onlookers that this was no carnival act. Everything dissolved into pandemonium. Shrieks of terror filled the air and people stampeded every which way, trampling anyone or anything that got in their way as they desperately tried to escape from the rampaging monster. Caught in the churning mob, Tejana struggled to get to her feet, only to be knocked down again. She was drowning in a sea of people and she was physically much too small to fight it. Kicks and blows rained down on her body as the heedless crowd surged over the top of her like a raging herd of buffalo.
Oh gods, my baby! she thought in terror, curling into a foetal position to protect her stomach from the onslaught as much as she could. Please don't hurt my baby!
She couldn't see anything at all. A painful blackness seemed to close in around her, bringing with it the very real possibility that both her life and her child's would end here, crushed to death beneath hundreds of uncaring feet.
Think! she told herself fiercely. Don't just give in! Do something!
Then, as if in a dream, she felt strong arms scooping her up and dragging her free of the screaming melee, cradling her safely against a broad chest.
"Bloody hell, Princess, do you ever go anywhere without getting into trouble?" a familiar voice said. "I can't leave you alone for a second."
"John!" she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck in sheer relief. "Oh, John, thank the gods. There was a monster...what happened to Koschei?"
Holding her protectively against him, Hart swung around, scanning the fleeing crowd. Tejana raised her head, trying to force her wavering vision to focus. The fairground was a complete shambles, all the stalls turned over and the tents destroyed, the ground littered with the bodies of those unfortunate enough to be trampled by the frenzied mob. Nearby, Silas's severed head grinned sickly up at them, his face splattered with his own blood, having been kicked back and forth in the panic like some sort of macabre football. In the distance, Tejana caught sight of a long, crimson tail slowly disappearing into the surrounding woodland, leaving a long smear of viscous green sludge in its wake. The lamia was obviously injured and bleeding. Had the Master done that? But where was he?
"There!" Hart said sharply, pointing.
Tejana gave a small cry of anguish. The crowd was thinning now and, not far away, she could see a dark figure lying face down on the ground. The sword was still held in his hand, the long blade stained green with lamia blood. He wasn't moving.
Still carrying Tejana as easily as if she was a child, Hart strode forward, ruthlessly kicking aside anyone in his path until he reached the fallen Time Lord. Sliding from his arms to the ground, Tejana fell to her knees beside the Master. "Koschei? Koschei!"
Carefully, Hart reached out and turned him over. More of the thick green substance was streaked through his ash-blonde hair and splattered across the front of his hoodie. His right sleeve was torn almost to ribbons, the black material soaked and heavy with his blood.
Slowly, his eyes opened. He looked dazed. "Always the women!" he muttered wryly, giving a wince of pain as he tried to move his injured arm.
"Lie still!" Tejana told him, her hearts swelling with relief. She smoothed her hand gently across his forehead. "You're hurt!"
"I should be dead," he replied, closing his eyes again. "That thing had every chance to rip my head off, but it didn't seem interested. It just sank its teeth into my arm instead."
Tejana felt a cold sensation settle in the pit of her stomach. Easing aside the shredded material of his sleeve, she looked at his arm. Two widely spaced puncture marks marked his flesh like small dagger wounds, still bleeding freely. Acting instinctively, she drew her knife and used it to tear several strips off the bottom of her already-short tunic. Ignoring the Master's irritable protests, she wound the improvised bandages firmly around his arm at the site of the lamia's bite, trying to restrict the flow of blood to his hearts.
"Keep your arm still, Koschei!" she snapped. "There's probably venom in your system and contracting the muscles will only make it spread!"
"Guess you were right all along, Princess," Hart commented, sitting back on his haunches and watching them both sardonically. "He really doesn't do dead."
"Yeah, well, no thanks to you!" the Master rasped, brushing Tejana aside and trying to sit up. "Where the hell were you?"
"Sorry, Blondie, had a few problems of my own with some Lordsmen," Hart responded coolly. "I got here as soon as I could. And, speaking of Lordsmen, we really need to get out of here before they come back."
"We lost our horse," Tejana said in a distracted voice, her gaze resting anxiously on the Master, not liking the hectic, almost feverish look in his brown eyes.
"That's OK," Hart grinned and quirked his thumb with ghoulish humour towards the severed head lying nearby. "I'm thinking your friend Silas probably won't mind all that much if we borrow his. After that, we can call him the Horseless Headsman!"
Laughing loudly at his own joke, the ex-Time Agent sauntered off to round up the horses, leaving Tejana to help the Master to his feet. In a very short time, the three of them were galloping away, leaving the ruined fairground far behind them. Once mounted behind Tejana on their horse, the Master had insisted on taking the reins as usual, despite her protests, claiming to be perfectly fine regardless of the injury to his arm. But before they had ridden very far, his condition began to deteriorate markedly. Tejana could hear his respiration become laboured, his inhalations quick and shallow. Despite the heat radiating from the afternoon sun, his entire body was soon racked with convulsive shudders.
"Cold," he said fretfully. "So cold."
Alarmed, Tejana realised he was speaking in Gallifreyan. Grabbing his wrist, she felt for his double pulse. It was racing, and his skin was damp and clammy. He slumped wearily against her, no longer able to sit upright.
"Hart!" she yelled, seizing the reins from the Master's loosened grasp and bringing the horse to a halt. "We have to stop, right now."
Wheeling his stallion around, Hart cantered back towards them. Taking in the situation at a glance, he said, "There looks like there's some sort of ruined building just up ahead. We can take shelter there, just in case anyone's following us."
The building Hart was referring to was almost hidden in a small copse of trees. It was a strange, low structure made of stone, ancient and crumbling, not much more than a series of decaying arches and blackened wooden beams, open to the sky. The roof was long gone, the eroding walls curtained with rampant ivy, the interior overgrown with weeds and brambles. The hot wind blew in sporadic gusts through large, gaping holes in the lichen-covered masonry, whistling a mournful tune to itself.
"This place gives me the creeps," Tejana shivered as Hart helped her lift the Master down from the horse's back.
Hart glanced around at the tumble-down walls. "It's probably an old chapel," he said. "To the Ruach. Apparently she was some sort of goddess they used to worship on this planet centuries ago."
"Not a goddess," Tejana corrected automatically. "The Ruach is another name for the Spirit of the Universe."
"Yeah, whatever," Hart shrugged, not particularly interested in the details. "All I know is, when the Temple of the Pythia took over, worship of the Ruach was forbidden, on pain of death, and all the chapels were destroyed."
Tejana trailed her fingers over the weathered, sun-warmed stone of one of the arches as they passed under it. "Some things can never be completely destroyed," she said softly.
They laid the Master in the cool shade of one of the more complete walls and made him as comfortable as possible. Hart rifled through the gear stowed in the saddle-bags of Silas's horse and found a bed-roll for him to lie on, while Tejana tried to get him to drink from one of the water-skins. He was muttering incoherently now, drifting in and out of awareness of what was going on around him, his hair damp with sweat. Apprehensively, Tejana examined his injured arm. Beneath the constrictive bandages it was grossly swollen, the skin around the livid puncture marks turning bruise-dark.
"Oh, Koschei," she whispered, sickness rising in her throat at the awful sight.
"Ana," he said hoarsely, grasping her hand like a lifeline. "Can you see it, Ana? Can you?"
She swallowed hard. "Can I see what?"
"The grass," he replied, his eyes restless and distant. "The long red grass. Fields and fields of it, stretching right across the slopes of Mount Perdition." His grip on her hand tightened almost painfully. "Come with me, Ana. Come run with me!"
Tears streamed down her face. "Soon, love," she murmured soothingly. "We'll run together soon, I promise. But you need to rest now."
"Can't rest, no time," he muttered, his head tossing back and forth. Then he began to sing in a dry, cracked voice, "Tick tock, goes the clock...especially for the Master."
Tejana flinched, thoroughly unsettled by hearing the creepy song from his lips. "Oh gods, Koschei, don't!" she implored. "Please don't!"
She placed her free hand on his burning forehead and opened the psychic link between them, trying to ascertain how critical the danger to him was. To her immense relief, the venom from the bite did not appear to be life-threatening. The rejuvenation of his body by the nanogenes on board the Ship of the Eternals meant that he was strong and vital. Already, his Time Lord physiology was fighting off the effects of the poison and healing itself. But to Tejana's shock, in that moment of psychic joining, she suddenly saw that the attack by the lamia had not been a random occurrence - it had been a well-planned ambush. The creature's venom had been meant for the Master all along, with a distinct and sinister purpose. It was not designed to attack his body, but his mind. As the toxins rapidly progressed through his system, she could sense the memory barriers erected by the Doctor beginning to weaken, hanging by a thread, almost ready to fall away.
She snatched her hand back with a stifled exclamation. Jumping to her feet, she began to pace wildly back and forth, her thoughts piling up on top of one another. What was she supposed to do now? She still had no idea what was hidden in his mind. But one thing was clear – whoever their enemy was at the Temple of the Pythia, he was determined to make the Master remember, one way or another. Should she try to shore up the barriers herself? But with the venom already coursing through him, the resulting conflict might damage his consciousness beyond repair. Traps within traps, everywhere she turned. Somehow she had to make a decision that would keep him safe.
"What's going on?"
Whirling around, she saw Hart standing in the archway, his eyes narrowed as he watched her pacing up and down.
"He has a fever and he's delirious," she answered.
"How soon can he travel?" Hart asked, moving towards her. "Because the sooner we reach the Temple and get your TARDIS back, the better it will be for all of us."
But Tejana had already made her choice. "We're not going to the Temple."
Hart suddenly went very still. "What?"
"I said, we're not going to the Temple," she repeated stubbornly, all her uncertainty disappearing, sure now that what she was doing was right. "I'm taking him back to the village."
"The village! Why?"
"The old woman I met there - Mother Hulde – she was a healer. She's lived on Mnemosyne all her life. Maybe she'll know of some kind of cure to halt the progress of the lamia venom."
Hart shook his head. "You can't do that. We have to go to the Temple," he said, with peculiar emphasis.
"You can go to hell as far as I'm concerned, Hart, I really couldn't care less," she snapped, his unusually intent gaze making her feel oddly disturbed. "But with or without you, as soon as it's dark, I'm putting him on a horse and taking him back to Mother Hulde's."
He threw up his hands in frustration. "You do realise that she'll have no idea how to help him, don't you? He's a Time Lord. His biology couldn't be more different to what she's used to. She's not a doctor, she's just a little old woman who doles out herbs to people when they get the sniffles."
"You don't understand!" she shot back. "That lamia attack was no accident – it was intentional. The venom in his system is intended to break down his remaining memory barriers. This Dark Lord wants whatever it is that's hidden inside his head and he'll stop at nothing to get it. So I'll be damned if I'm going to meekly walk up to his Temple and offer it to him on a silver platter!"
"Oh, I understand, all right, a whole lot more than you think!" Hart snarled, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. "And you are going to the Temple, whether you like it or not!"
"Get off me!" she said angrily, trying to pull away from him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Princess, you have to be the most stubborn, most infuriating, most sexy woman I've met in a very long time!" Hart returned grimly. "But you really, really need to shut up now."
With that, he pulled her to him and, before she could stop him, kissed her hard on the lips. Fighting hard, she struggled against him, still trying to get away – until, all at once, she felt an insidious weakness creeping along her limbs, a slow paralysis sweeping through her body. Horrified, she realised the mistake she had made. Jack's third rule for dealing with Hart rang in her ears: Never, EVER let him kiss you.
Oh gods, I'm such an idiot, she thought bitterly. I've allowed him to paralyse me, just like he did to Gwen back on Earth the first time we met.
Hart caught her deftly as she collapsed against him. "Oh dear, let your guard down a bit there, sweetheart!" he quipped, looking down into her face. Oddly, if Tejana hadn't known better, she would have thought she saw something very like real regret in his eyes. "You weren't starting to trust me after all, were you? What a shame! You know the drill. Paralysing lip gloss. Bit of a cliché, I know – same old, same old and all that. But sometimes I find the oldies are still the goodies."
Tejana stared furiously at him, unable to reply, her facial features completely frozen by the toxins contained in his lip gloss.
"As for what I'm doing, I'm afraid I'm selling you out," he continued, lowering her gently to sit on the ground, propped up against the wall like a life-sized doll. "Like I told you before, nothing personal, just business. Because, the thing is, when it comes to temporal energy, you and Blondie aren't the only game in town. I was telling the truth about my vortex manipulator – it really is burnt out. And I really do want to get off this planet. So when the Lord of the Pythia offered me a deal, it all seemed very straightforward. When a man calling himself 'the Master' turned up on Mnemosyne, all I had to do was to make sure he went voluntarily to the Temple, no matter what. In return, my energy cell would be recharged. Simple, right? Only then you turned up as well as Blondie and things got a little more interesting. Believe it or not, babe, I really was on your side there for a little while. I figured if I could get a recharge from your TARDIS, I wouldn't need that looney-tune whack-job at the Temple any more. And along the way I might even get a few brownie-points with Jack for saving your pretty skin." His face drooped in a comically sad expression. "Ah, but then you went and lost your TARDIS. Tsk, tsk...so very careless. And that forced me to change sides again. Crossing the Lord of the Pythia without a guaranteed escape route was definitely a big no-no. You were right, by the way, we were being watched all along. Those transparent creatures are called the Lich. They were the original inhabitants of this planet, before the humans came. The Dark Lord has promised to destroy all the humans and to return this world to them, as long as they serve the Temple for as long as he needs them. Whatever he wants with Blondie, he needs him in one piece. And he wants his memories released, which is why, once the mnemosis didn't work, the Lich brought me orders to lead the pair of you to that damned carnival. Everything's going to plan now, Princess – I'm this close to finally getting out of here and I can't afford to let you interfere with that."
Tejana's green eyes flashed, her rage nearly choking her. The bastard was right. She had let her guard down. She actually had been on the verge of trusting him. And all the time, he had been playing both sides against the other, just as he always did. Wanting to kill him, she watched him put his head on one side and study her keenly, like some sort of laboratory specimen.
"I have to say, it's much more fun bantering with you when you can answer back, darling. It's a bit boring this way," he commented wryly. "Still, it's going to make getting you to the Temple a whole lot easier."
At that moment, as if vaguely sensing trouble through the enveloping mists of his delirium, the Master tried weakly to rise, only to fall back to the ground, his eyes bright with fever. "Ana?" he called in a hazy voice.
Hart smirked and crossed over to him, crouching down beside him. "Aw, Blondie," he said, gently caressing his hair. "Ana can't take your call right now. Maybe you should leave her a message after the beep."
Standing once more, he looked down and grinned, before adding loudly, "BEEP!" And drawing back his foot, he kicked the Master viciously in the ribs. The Master groaned in agony.
"That was a bit of payback for that leg wound you gave me," Hart told him cheerfully.
Horrified, Tejana tried to scream, but could force no sound through her frozen lips.
Then Hart kicked the Master again, even harder this time, his boot sinking deep into the injured Time Lord's stomach. "And that's for killing Jack over eight hundred times. Nobody gets to hurt Jack except me, comprende?"
With that, the ex-Time Agent strode back over to Tejana and hoisted her on to his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I know you can hear me, Blondie. I'm taking Tejana to the Temple with me. And I've seen enough of you Time Lords to know that you can track her down wherever she goes. For whatever reason, the Dark Lord needs you to come to the Temple by your own choice. So, if I were you, I'd choose to follow her as quickly as possible, before something bad happens."
And, turning on his heel, he left, taking Tejana with him and leaving the Master crumpled on the ground.
Another Author's Note: So there you have it. To all those people who have been predicting John's betrayal, it has finally happened! Hope you liked the chapter :)