Turlough had struggled to keep up with the soldiers for the better part of an hour, but Gramond had ceased moving his legs. He lay slumped against Turlough, his feet dragging in the damp earth. Now the Trion lad was several yards behind the group.
Rundly turned around, calling, "Come on! Leave him. We still have a great deal of ground to cover before nightfall."
Turlough twisted his head to look at Gramond's ashen face. The man's eyes were closed.
"Gramond?" Turlough said, pausing to prod him gently with his finger.
There was no response. Turlough moved his hand to his charge's neck, feeling for a pulse beneath the clammy skin. A faint beat persisted despite the blood that soaked the bandages.
"Come on!" Rundly demanded again, this time beginning to move toward Turlough. "He's gone. Leave him."
"No," said Turlough," he's still alive. If I can just get him to the camp—"
"Leave him." The words were spoken firmly.
"But he's alive! I can't just leave him out here alone—"
"You can. You've already slowed us down more than we can afford. Drop him and come."
Turlough hesitated, watching Gramond's face for a moment. This was a living creature, a sentient being…
Suddenly Rundly's sword was pressed against Turlough's throat. "Drop him now," the soldier growled.
Turlough complied, easing Gramond onto the ground. The wounded man stirred slightly with a low moan, and his eyelids opened to reveal cloudy, dull irises. His mouth seemed to twist as if he wanted to speak.
Turlough began to bend toward him, but Rundly thrust the sword upward, nicking his chin. Turlough cried out, pressing his hand against the cut.
"The next one slices your throat," Rundly said.
Turlough looked at Rundly then back at Gramond. Swiftly Rundly lifted the sword and drove it into Gramond's chest. The injured man's eyes widened then immediately closed.
"Now he's gone," Rundly said flatly. "Slow us down again, or show me you aren't of any use to us, and the same will happen to you." He shoved his sword into the sheath at his hip and began walking. With a slight jerk of his head toward the dead soldier, he muttered, "He always talked too much anyway."
Turlough lowered his hand from his chin; his fingers were sticky and red. He glanced at the other soldiers. Several were looking at Gramond and Rundly with some discomfiture and abashment, but none spoke.
Fighting the nausea that churned in his stomach, Turlough forced his feet to carry him forward, hoping against hope that the Doctor would find him and remove him from this waking nightmare.
----------
When Tegan and Amna returned to the kitchen, they found the Doctor bending over Erran's bed in the small alcove. The child's eyes were closed, and the Time Lord was speaking softly to him. The women stood watching quietly for nearly a minute, then the Doctor turned to them with a smile. He beckoned Amna with his hand. She joined him next to the bed.
"Wake him," said the Doctor.
She spoke the little boy's name and gave him a soft caress against the cheek. His eyes opened, and he whispered, "Mama. I'm hungry."
"Erran!" She gathered him into a hug, her eyes moving to the Doctor's face with unspoken gratitude.
The Doctor walked back to the table, gesturing to the bowl of soup. "You should eat that before we go," he told Tegan.
She sat and took a spoonful. "What did you do?" she asked. "What was wrong with him?"
"He underwent a traumatic experience; he was still partially in shock from it. It caused a conversion reaction which left him mute."
Tegan swallowed and dipped the spoon again. "And you were able to help him?"
The Doctor nodded. "It was a simple matter of reassuring him at a subconscious level that he is safe now."
Amna led Erran to the table and ladled soup into a bowl for him. She filled another bowl and set it in front of the Doctor. Her hand trembled slightly as it left the bowl, hesitating over the Time Lord's arm. Finally she pressed her fingers against his sleeve, saying, "Thank you."
He nodded briefly. "We thank you, too."
She went into the pantry as the Doctor, Tegan, and Erran ate. The child looked up at Tegan with a shy smile.
She smiled back. "Your mother makes good soup," she said.
He nodded. "I helped her. I got the carrots."
"Then you're a good cook, too," Tegan responded.
Amna returned with a basket. In it she had placed several pieces of fruit resembling apples, some cookies, and a small chunk of smoked meat. "Take this on your journey," she said, handing it to the Doctor.
"That's very kind of you," he acknowledged. He glanced at Tegan's nearly empty bowl, then added, "We should go now. Tegan?"
Tegan stood, momentarily catching her foot in the long skirt she wore. She lifted the fabric slightly, muttering, "This will take some getting used to." She looked up at the Doctor. "You've changed back to your own clothes. Won't you stand out?"
"Not as much as you would," he replied, adjusting the celery in his lapel. He took the basket then turned back to Amna. "Thank you again."
"No, it is you who deserve the thanks," she said. "Please be safe."
As the Doctor stepped out the door, Tegan clasped Amna's hand with a smile of appreciation.
The Doctor and Tegan began to walk. The afternoon sun was lowering in the sky, casting shadows among the trees. Tegan blinked, scanning the darker areas anxiously.
"How can I tell which ones are shadows and which ones are images from people's thoughts?" she asked with mounting alarm. A slight breeze rustled the leaves, and she looked up, adding, "And the leaves—when I hear them, how do I know if it's just the wind or someone nearby?"
"You will have to focus," the Doctor said calmly yet firmly. "You were able to discern words from Erran's and Amna's thoughts; this means that your ability is growing more refined. If you concentrate, you should be able to hear words clearly and see images, not just whispers and shadows."
"I don't know," Tegan said hesitantly. "What if there's more than one person, and all of their thoughts come at me at the same time? How can I hear what each person's thinking? It's going to be a huge mess of sounds and images—" Her words had become more staccato.
"Tegan," said the Doctor, "calm down. Take a breath. The first thing you must do is remain calm. If you're agitated you won't be able to concentrate."
"How can I be calm when I know that I'm going to have to hear the thoughts of lord only knows how many people? Do you have any idea what that could be like?"
"Yes, I think I do. It is rather like being in a room full of people, all of whom are talking. But you are conversing with just one person, so you focus your attention on him or her and effectively filter out all of the others. That is what you will have to do."
"But how can I focus on someone I can't even see?"
The Doctor placed his hands on Tegan's shoulders, saying, "Close your eyes for a moment."
She frowned but obliged.
"Now tell me what you hear."
"A bird chirping… another bird… some leaves moving over there," she cocked her head, "and you breathing."
"Now you hear my voice. As you listen to me, you are not fully aware of the other sounds, are you? You can attend to my voice without interference from the other noises."
Tegan opened her eyes. "But that's not the same—" she began.
"Actually, it is very similar. You simply need to learn how to concentrate on a single person's thoughts, just as you were able to concentrate on my voice in the presence of other noises. The human brain is really quite adept at this process."
"Well, maybe mine isn't."
"Of course it is. Now we must continue moving. It would be best if we reached the Briars' main camp by nightfall. Try to stay alert, and tell me the moment you hear or see anything out of the ordinary."
With a mild shake of her head, Tegan followed the Doctor through the trees.
----------
The small group of Kingsmen had walked briskly since Turlough had left Gramond. Rundly pushed them forward, occasionally cuffing any man who complained of hunger or thirst. Turlough stayed with the soldiers, but he remained vigilant for any possible opportunities for escape. If he could get away from these men and find the TARDIS again, he would be safe.
Unfortunately, he had lost track of the direction of the group's travel in his efforts to attend to Gramond. Even if he did manage to escape, he was unsure in which direction he would go. Silently he berated himself for his failure to observe the soldiers' movements. Perhaps he could retrace their steps. Swallowing back bile, he thought that he could always follow the trail of Gramond's blood.
Rundly had sent a scout ahead, and now the man hurried back to the group. "Up there," he panted, "just beyond those trees, are a dozen Briars. They look as though they're moving toward the base camp."
Several soldiers lifted their weapons, commenting, "Let's go," and "We can take them!"
Turlough's stomach lurched again. Frantically he looked about, trying to find any chance for slipping away. Perhaps when the men marched forward he could duck away, shielded temporarily from notice by their zeal.
"Wait," Rundly ordered, holding up his hand. "If they are going to the main camp they can lead us directly to it. We know it's near the mountains, but we don't know exactly where. For now we'll stay back and watch them."
"But Rundly," objected a burly fellow with dried blood smeared across his tunic, "if we kill them, there are a dozen fewer Briars for tomorrow's battle, and more weapons for us—"
"And if we can't find their camp in time for the assault we won't help the king at all," Rundly said. "We'll wait until we see the camp, then we'll take them."
He lead the group ahead. Turlough began to lag slightly behind, intending to dash away at the first opportune moment. However, Rundly's eyes returned to the young man often. The moment Turlough had permitted himself to stray behind the last man, Rundly stormed back, grabbing him roughly by the ear and jerking him forward.
"You've already cost us valuable time," he growled. "I won't have you wasting any more. Come on." He withdrew a dagger from his boot and thrust the stout handle sharply into Turlough's back, threatening, "Fall behind again, and you'll feel the blade."
Turlough quickened his pace, rapidly losing hope of ever seeing his friends again.
----------
The continued rustling of the leaves beneath Tegan's feet irritated her more with each step. She had grown to dread the susurration. Every rustle might be a wisp of someone's thought.
"How much further is it?" she asked testily.
"We still have some distance to go," answered the Doctor. He glanced over his shoulder at her; she was several paces behind him. "Are you getting tired?"
"You could say that," she replied tersely.
He stopped and turned toward her. "We really have to keep moving. If we don't deliver this message by daybreak, we won't be able to prevent the attack."
"I just need to stop for a minute," she said somewhat breathlessly.
He studied her face for a moment. She was still pale, and she seemed to breathe rapidly and shallowly. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"No," she snapped, "I'm not. I nearly drowned, and the Mara left my brain open to the world, and I can't tell when I'm going to hear the thoughts of some soldier, and what they might be if I do, and if I see a shadow I just about jump out of my skin—" She was nearly panting.
"Tegan," the Doctor admonished, "you're hyperventilating. You have to calm down." He lowered her to the ground then crouched beside her. "Take a small breath through your nose. That's it, now another."
She hugged her knees to her chest as she steadied her breathing. "I don't think I can do this," she said.
"Of course you can. Breathing is an autonomic function—"
"No, not that. I mean I don't think I can help the Briars. This isn't going to work. Just point the way back to the TARDIS—"
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
"You've gotten us lost again?"
"No, I haven't. I know exactly where we are. But you and I are both necessary to the Briars. I have a very strong feeling that they cannot win this war without us."
"It's just too much," she said wearily.
"Tegan, you have already used your abilities to help Erran. If you hadn't heard him crying out we wouldn't have found him and Amna. He was ill, but thanks to you he's fine now. In this one small way you've changed his and Amna's lives for the better. It is within your capability now to help this entire society. You can help defeat the Kingsmen and reunite this planet."
"That's an awful lot of responsibility for one Australian air hostess," she lamented mordantly.
"Yes, it is, but I have every confidence that you can do it. And I told you before that I will help you. I will do everything I can to assist you in using your abilities—"
Tegan had turned her head to the side, and her eyes seemed to dull and lose their focus despite her obvious efforts at squinting. "I hear something," she whispered.
The Doctor quickly looked about. He strained to discern faint voices in the distance.
"Try to concentrate for a moment," he said. "Just focus your mind on the vague words you hear and the shadows you see."
Tegan took a breath and tried to listen, but all she heard were the gentle sounds of nature—a bird chirping, a few leaves moving, a whisper of wind… She strained to hear the whisper, but she realized that it did not emanate from outside of her as did the other noises. Suddenly she felt the sound resonate within her own mind. She forced her attention to cling to the whisper, and after a moment a few of the words were clear: "So much blood… might die… Serla, Lahn, Marden… Caramond… serve the king."
A shadow seemed to flash just beyond her line of vision. Tegan moved her eyes toward it, but then realized that, like the words, it existed inside her mind. She lowered her eyes and willed the shadow to materialize before her. She saw several men lying on the ground, their clothes soaked with blood. She saw a sword, then three faces—a dark-haired woman, a small girl, and a boy—flickered before her. There was a glimpse of a high, stone castle, and a glitter of coins.
The images faded quickly, seeming to twist away from Tegan in a rapid spiral. She blinked and shook her head, feeling slightly dizzy. She pressed her fingers to her temples.
"Did you hear anything?" asked the Doctor, his voice taking a moment to reach her.
She blinked again. "Yes—something about blood, and some names, and the words 'serve the king'."
"And did you see anything?"
She nodded. "Men—I think they were dead, they were bloody—and some faces, a woman and two children, and a castle, then a few coins."
"All words and images associated with this war. I think that at least one soldier is somewhere nearby. We need to find a place to hide."
He took Tegan's arm and led her back into a dense copse of trees. They crouched among the evergreens.
"Did the words appear to come from a single person or from several?" asked the Doctor.
Tegan looked at him. "I don't know. They were just words— I couldn't tell who said them."
Now the Doctor could hear voices in the distance; they grew louder. "Tegan," he whispered, "concentrate. This time try to distinguish among the individuals' thoughts."
She opened her mouth to ask how she should do this, but he held a finger to his lips. Tegan sank down on the ground as the whispers began again. Words and images similar to those she had perceived a few minutes earlier entered her mind. They seemed to swirl about, making it difficult to disentangle them from each other. She sensed that there were more words and a greater number of images, but her efforts to pull them apart only resulted in a throbbing in her skull She closed her eyes and bent her head.
The Doctor watched as six soldiers clad in Kingsmen attire passed by the copse. They walked quickly and purposefully. All appeared battle-weary with dark patches of dried blood on their tunics. Yet most of their faces had the determined look of men with a singular purpose. Two of the soldiers, however, appeared less stolid. One was a very young man whose arm was in a sling. A deep gash split his cheek, and his expression conveyed pain. The other was older and did not appear physically injured, but his face had the pinched look of one in emotional turmoil.
The Doctor continued to watch until the men were well out of sight. He turned back to Tegan to find her hunched over, hands clenched tightly into fists. Her head was bent, and her body appeared rigid.
"Tegan," he said softly. She did not respond. He touched her shoulder lightly, then wrapped his hand around it more firmly. "Tegan, they're gone," he told her.
Slowly she raised her head to look at him. She blinked. "I can still hear them," she murmured.
He nodded. "I imagine that you will until they have moved further away. But I want you to focus your attention on me now."
She squinted and rubbed at her forehead. He bent so that his face was directly in front of hers. "Tegan," he said evenly, "look at me and listen only to my voice."
Her eyes moved to his, and she nodded.
"Tell me what you heard."
"Pretty much the same things as before, only there was more of it. There were so many words—I couldn't tell them apart. And the images were just fragments, little bits of things—swords, faces, trees."
"Two of the soldiers appeared to be upset. The others seemed calmer. I think that you perceived the thoughts of these two men. So now we know that you will need to work on distinguishing among thoughts when there is more than one person involved."
"I tried," she said earnestly, "I really did, but it just made my head hurt." She rubbed her forehead again.
"Yes, I imagine that is due to the stress you're experiencing from your efforts." He stood and took her hand to help her rise. "Try to stay calm and just allow the words and images to come."
Tegan shook her head. "Easy for you to say."
The Doctor looked in the direction the soldiers had gone. "They appear to be heading toward the Briars' camp. Come on. We need to get there before they do."
Still massaging her throbbing head, Tegan trudged along behind him.
----------
As the daylight faded, Rundly's troop increased their pace. In the distance Turlough could see a faint glow. Rundly told the men that it was a fire from the camp where they would spend the night. This would position them only a few kilometers from the Briars' headquarters. In the morning they would move en masse on the enemy's main camp, joining others troops for a surprise attack.
Somehow Turlough had survived the assault on the small Briar group that the scout had spotted. The Kingsmen had crept up on the tired soldiers, assailing them unexpectedly. Turlough had watched as swords and daggers dispatched Briar soldiers quickly. He had tried to keep back, hoping to creep away, but Rundly had thrust him toward a Briar soldier immediately. Fortunately for Turlough, his opponent was already injured, and their struggle was somewhat brief. The man collapsed from the effort of fighting, falling at Turlough's feet. One of Rundly's men had been killed, but the others walked away nearly unscathed.
Now the impending darkness gave Turlough a small shred of hope for escape. Surely Rundly would not remain awake all night long. Under the cover of night, Turlough just might be able to slip away. He was exhausted, grimy, and thirsty, but this vague hope kept him moving steadily. Indeed, he found himself a few paces ahead of Rundly.
"Back here, next to me," Rundly ordered suddenly.
Turlough turned. "Me?" he asked. "But you told me to keep up."
"Keep up, not ahead," Rundly said sharply.
Turlough slowed his steps until Rundly was beside him. He felt the soldier grip his arm, hard, and jerk him back. "I know what you're planning," the Kingsman growled softly. "I won't warn you again. Try to run and you get my dagger in your back."
Turlough sighed. "Run? And miss this party? I don't think so."
Unexpectedly, Rundly's hand shot up to strike Turlough's cheek. The young man recoiled at the force of the blow, clapping his own hand to his face with a gasp.
"Keep quiet," Rundly said.
Turlough continued walking, his determination to escape growing stronger with each moment.
---------
Tegan and the Doctor had walked briskly for more than an hour. She had heard no more rustling and had seen no shadows for some time. Her head had ceased throbbing and now ached dully, but she was weary. She did not realize that she had slowed until the Doctor turned back to address her.
"Do you hear something?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. I'm just getting tired. How much further do we have to walk today? It's going to be dark soon."
"Yes, it is. I'm afraid that we can't allow the darkness to deter us, however. We must reach the Briars' camp before morning."
"Doctor, I can't walk all night," Tegan said somewhat plaintively. "And you said earlier that travelling in the dark isn't safe."
"We don't have much choice."
The Time Lord still carried Amna's basket in his hand. He glanced down at it. "Let's rest for a few minutes. Have something to eat. I'm sure you'll feel better after that."
Tegan sank down to sit cross-legged on the leafy ground. The Doctor handed her a piece of fruit. She felt too exhausted to eat, but once she had taken a bite, she realized that she was ravenous. She devoured the fruit quickly, then ate some of the smoked meat.
"Are there any biscuits?" she asked, peering into the basket.
The Doctor gave her one of Amna's sugared cookies, which Tegan found to be delicious.
When she had finished, he asked, "Are you feeling better now?"
Tegan swallowed the last bite of cookie. "I'm not hungry anymore, but I'm still tired."
"The food will give you some energy soon. We need to go now."
Tegan stood slowly. "How are we going to find our way in the dark?" she asked.
"I know the direction in which we need to travel, and I see in the dark rather well—better than you, at any rate."
Tegan rolled her eyes. "Of course you do," she conceded. "But how can you tell which direction we're going?"
"By the lichen on the trees," he replied simply. He had already begun walking and did not appear interested in offering additional information.
They moved quietly for some time. The light faded completely, and the woods grew dark. Tegan stumbled several times over small branches and rocks in their path. One particularly large stone caused her to fall forward completely, landing on her hands and knees.
"Cripes!" she muttered.
The Doctor stopped to help her up. "Are you all right?"
She brushed leaves from her long skirt. "I'd be a lot better if I had my own clothes. I don't know how women walked in these things!"
The Doctor had paid little attention to her attire, simply noting that it was similar to Amna's. However, now he noticed that she wore a pale blue dress. The bodice was square and adorned with fine embroidery. The sleeves were narrow at the shoulder but fuller as they flowed down toward her wrists. The same delicate embroidery decorated the cuffs in a pattern of berries and vines. The dress had a full skirt that swept the ground. Surprisingly, the garment fit Tegan well, almost as though it had been made for her. The bodice was snug, while the skirt seemed to pour fluidly over her hips.
"Doctor?"
Tegan's voice broke him from his brief reverie.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
"No. Why do you ask?"
"You've been staring at my dress for nearly a minute."
"Have I? The embroidery is quite extraordinary, don't you think?"
Tegan lifted her arm to examine the stitching in the dull light. "It looks pretty, but I can't really see it. Since when do you appreciate needlework?"
"There are many forms of beauty, Tegan. I generally appreciate all of them."
She shrugged. "Well, pretty as it may be, this thing is still hard to walk in, and I feel ridiculous in it."
"Actually, you appear rather fetching."
Tegan blinked in surprise, and her cheeks grew warm. "Come on," she said, lifting her skirt slightly and plowing ahead. "Like you said, we have a lot of ground to cover."
----------
The Kingsmen's camp was large. At least two hundred soldiers had gathered for the night, and more were coming in from several directions. A great fire burned in the center, and men milled about, talking, eating, some tending to wounds in the flickering light. A dozen or so soldiers appeared to be the leaders of their groups, and these men were gathered near the fire. As soon as Rundly's band entered the camp, he straightened and hailed the cadre by the fire. Before joining them, however, he turned to Turlough.
"Keep within my sight," he warned. "Watch him," he instructed the other members of his troop. "If he even steps away, use your sword."
Turlough sank to the ground to sit. "Look, I'm too tired to go anywhere. I just want to rest and have something to eat."
"Stay there," Rundly said gruffly. "Dran, bring back some food for him. Be ready to march just before dawn."
Rundly swaggered off toward the fire. The other men, minus Dran, who had gone to get some sustenance, sat around Turlough. He tried to remain calm, but his chances of escape appeared to grow dimmer by the moment. Perhaps if the others fell asleep… He would have to wait; there was nothing else he could do.