Lord Pannon had left his tent the moment the Kingsmen entered the camp. Tegan lay alone among the blankets. She had been aware of nothing for over an hour, but now words and images began to flit through her returning consciousness. She was still drowsy, and she managed to open her eyes and look around before the full onslaught overwhelmed her. For a moment she took in her surroundings, vaguely wondering where she was. However, these musings were short-lived, and within a minute she was immersed once more in the thoughts of hundreds of others.

She tried to find a safe haven amid the rush of images and voices, but there were too many. They surged at her from every corner of her mind. Her hands clawed at her temples, desperate to tear away the swarm. Finally she curled into a ball and sank back against the blankets, utterly defeated by the bombardment from within.

----------

Turlough skulked through the camp, dodging occasional arrows and veering away from the small groups of fighting men. The rain drummed against the tents and splashed on the soggy ground, and shouts of aggression and cries of pain seemed to reverberate all around him, but he managed to make his way to the large tent at the center of the camp. As he ducked through the flap, he was vaguely aware of a change in the noises behind him, but he did not stop to look. He wanted to find Tegan and get away from the battle as soon as possible.

The interior of the tent was dim, but he saw Tegan immediately. He hurried toward her, saying, "Tegan! Come on, we have to go."

She did not respond to his words. She still lay curled into herself, her hands clenched against her head. He shook her shoulder, remembering the Doctor's comment that she was not herself. He could not imagine what was the matter with her, but he did not stop to contemplate this. Instead, he placed his hands under her arms and pulled her up. She stumbled to her feet, and he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her toward the doorway.

As they stepped from the tent, Turlough noticed that the rain had abated to a drizzle. He could see the woods fairly clearly and allowed himself a moment of relief when he found that there was no fighting directly in the path he wanted to take. In fact, the fighting seemed to have diminished somewhat. He found this odd, given the influx of Kingsmen who should have invaded the camp from three directions only minutes after he entered. He knew that only part of his group had been affected by the water. He doubted that more than one third of the soldiers had even consumed it.

As his eyes skimmed the camp, he noticed some of the Kingsmen on their knees, holding their faces with their hands. Indeed, dozens of them near the edge of the camp were in this position. Arrows still flew through the air, but as Turlough watched, he noted that they landed on the ground. Something about the arrows appeared odd…

"Hey!"

A sharp voice nearby startled Turlough. He spun around to find a Briar soldier rapidly approaching him. The man was tall with rich brown hair and green eyes. He held a sword with an intricately crafted pearl handle, jabbing it toward the visitor.

"What are you doing with her?" he asked.

"I'm taking her away from here."

The man squinted slightly. "On whose authority?"

"The Doctor—"

"What is your name?"

"I'm Turlough."

The soldier nodded. "Oh, yes. The Doctor said you would come for her." He stood aside and gestured with his hand. "Go, quickly."

Turlough took a few steps but hesitated. "Where's the Doctor?"

The man shook his head. "I'm not sure. He was helping with our defenses, but I haven't seen him in some time."

"When you do," said Turlough, "tell him that I came for her."

"Of course. Now go."

The man slipped into the tent quickly as Turlough hurried toward the woods. He was half-way there when he heard a furious string of invectives. He turned his head and saw Rundly charging at him, wielding a spear in one hand and flinging his dagger with the other.

The dagger whizzed through the air with seemingly impossible speed, but perhaps it was only Turlough's shock that seemed to alter time. He saw the weapon flying toward him and realized immediately that it would hit Tegan directly in the chest in an instant. Without thinking, he turned his body to shield her then pulled her to the ground. He felt the dagger strike his forehead, just above his temple, as his knees hit the mud.

Rundly had not ceased running, and now he raised the spear above Turlough. The Trion lad reached back, frantically searching for the dagger that had fallen near him while keeping his eyes on Rundly. Blood had begun dripping from his forehead, threatening to obscure his vision.

"Don't hurt her!" he enjoined. "It's me you want."

"Traitor!" Rundly spat. He towered above Turlough and Tegan, the spear clasped in his white-knuckled hand.

"All right," Turlough stammered, "I am. But she's done nothing."

"She's with you. That's enough."

Rundly's arm jerked back slightly to create additional leverage for the spear. In abject horror, Turlough watched as the weapon plummeted downward toward Tegan's stomach. He had managed to grasp the dagger in his right hand, and with his left he shoved Tegan as hard as he could to push her from the path of the spear. Rundly shifted slightly to readjust the weapon's trajectory, and in that moment Turlough forced his arm upward to thrust the dagger into Rundly's flank. The soldier staggered and bellowed with rage as blood began to spread over his tunic.

Turlough grasped the spear just above the blade and pulled it from Rundly's hand then flung it away. He stood and pushed Rundly to the ground then hauled Tegan up to her feet. She was still in a daze, unaware of the events around her.

Turlough wrapped his arm about her waist once again and dragged her toward the woods without a second glance at Rundly.

----------

Turlough had managed to take Tegan some distance from the camp before his legs gave out. A surge of energy, fueled by his body's automatic response to the life-threatening situation, had carried him forward for nearly a kilometer, but as the danger subsided his legs began to shake. Finally, he lowered Tegan to the ground then fell to his knees. His stomach churned and cramped, and he thought that he would be sick, but he only coughed uncomfortably for several minutes.

"Turlough?" Tegan's voice was faint, but it drew his attention.

He looked up to find that she sat among the leaves, blinking in puzzlement. He wiped a hand across his mouth and crawled back toward her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She blinked at him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "I think so." She seemed to require a minute to focus her vision on him. "Cripes, Turlough, what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

She pointed toward his forehead. "Your head—it's bleeding. And you look awful. Were you just sick?"

He reached up to touch the wound left by the dagger. "No, not really."

He stood, though his legs still felt weak. "Can you walk on your own now?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"Good, then we should go. I want to get as far away from here as possible."

Tegan rose. "What happened? Where's the Doctor?"

"We've just managed to escape a major battle. I don't know where he is, but we need to head back toward the TARDIS."

"But your head—"

Turlough waved a hand dismissively. "Will be fine. Come on."

"But I don't understand—how did we get out here?"

"You don't remember?"

She shook her head.

"Maybe you should tell me what happened to you. You were in some sort of trance or something. You didn't seem aware of anything."

As they began to walk, Tegan tried to tell Turlough about her new-found capabilities, occasionally interrupted by bursts of thought from his own mind.

----------

"So you could see and hear what all of the soldiers were thinking?"

Turlough was rather fascinated by Tegan's skill. They had spent the last half hour discussing it, as well as the events of the past two days.

Tegan sighed. "Believe me, Turlough, it's not a good thing. It's like being attacked by hundreds of images and words all at once. It's confusing and scary—it's not something you'd want to have."

"But you were able to know about some of the battle plans, right?"

"I guess, but I couldn't really distinguish between the different people's thoughts very well, so I didn't get that much information."

"But still," said Turlough, considering the possibilities open to an individual with such an ability, "to know others' thoughts—just think of the information you could get."

Tegan shook her head. "I don't want it. I don't want to know what other people have seen and experienced. I had to watch battles over and over again, and see people hurt and dying, and know how much men missed their families—"

Her voice had grown hoarse, and she paused for a moment to swallow. "The Doctor's going to close the pathway in my mind as soon as we're back in the TARDIS."

"You'll lose the ability?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Turlough weighed this information. "I think you should reconsider that. Your ability could come in handy—"

"No." Tegan's tone was resolute. However, Turlough seemed determined to continue the conversation; she could see the eager expression on his face. In an attempt to change the subject, she said, "That cut on your head looks pretty bad. Does it hurt?"

Turlough touched the wound and winced. "A bit."

"Sit down and let me clean it up for you." Tegan motioned to a fallen tree. "Give me your handkerchief," she instructed, holding out her hand expectantly.

Turlough rummaged through his pocket and withdrew a small, white cloth. She took it and bent to wet it in some water that had collected in the leaves. She wiped the handkerchief over the gash, asking, "What did this?"

"A dagger."

Tegan saw a flash of metal, then she had an image of herself being shielded from a spear by Turlough. She inhaled sharply.

"Ow!"

She blinked to return her gaze to Turlough's forehead. "Sorry," she mumbled, dabbing more lightly at the blood. She was silent for several seconds. Finally, she said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

She lowered her hand and looked at him. "For saving me from that man."

"You were nearly unconscious— how did you— Did you just see that?"

She nodded.

"You looked inside my mind?"

"I couldn't help it. It's not so much looking as having the images come to me."

"Well, I'd appreciate it if you could try not to go snooping about in my memories—"

"I told you I can't help it! If there's something you don't want me to see, try not to think about it."

Turlough crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "Are you certain that the Doctor can help you get rid of this… this power?"

"He says he can. But Turlough, why didn't you tell me what happened back there?"

Turlough rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his chin on his hands. "I guess I'd just as soon forget it."

"It looked really scary."

"It was, I suppose, but that's not the reason."

Tegan waited patiently for him to continue; he seemed to require a few moments to gather his thoughts. Finally, he said, "Remember when we were on Terminus, and we were talking about whether or not we could kill someone?"

She nodded.

"Well, I think I killed Rundly. I stabbed him with the dagger. There was a lot of blood, and he fell."

"You were trying to save my life," Tegan said softly.

"Does that justify killing someone?"

"I don't know. I don't know if anything justifies killing someone. But if you hadn't…" She could not continue.

Turlough's eyes wandered to his feet. With an audible sigh, he said, "Look Tegan, I'd really just like to forget the whole thing."

She touched his shoulder with her hand. "I won't forget it."

They remained silent for some time as Tegan continued to dab at the blood on his head. When they both heard leaves crunching nearby, they turned with some alarm to the source of the noise.

"Ah, good, I see that you both managed to get away." The Doctor's voice was cheerful, almost ebullient, in his relief.

"Doctor!" Tegan and Turlough exclaimed simultaneously.

The Time Lord strode toward them. His gaze was locked on Tegan, and as he approached he asked her, "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I think so. It's much quieter here."

"Yes," he agreed, "it is."

"What happened? Where have you been?" Tegan asked.

"Is the battle over?" added Turlough.

The Doctor touched the cut on the Trion's forehead with a slight scowl. "Were you involved in the fighting?"

Turlough brushed his hand away. "It was nothing."

The look that Tegan gave Turlough did not escape the Doctor's notice, but he did not comment upon it. Instead, he said, "Well, I think the Briars owe both of you a rather substantial debt of gratitude."

In response to their inquiring expressions, he continued, "Tegan, the information that you got from the Kingsmen allowed the Briars to be prepared for the attack. And," he looked at Turlough, "the glycoside in the water disabled some of the soldiers and caused sufficient confusion for the Briars to get the upper hand."

"Really?" asked Turlough with sincere surprise. "I didn't think I'd gotten it into enough of their water to make a difference."

"Apparently it did."

"But Doctor," said Tegan, "where have you been? Were you caught in the battle?"

"Not exactly. I worked with the Briars' apothecary to make a weapon of sorts."

"A weapon?" repeated Tegan. "What kind of weapon?"

The Doctor smiled. "Oh, a rather painful but ultimately harmless one. Do you remember the salve I put on your arm at Amna's house?"

Tegan nodded. "It really stung."

"Yes, that was the influence of the oil from a tree much like the eucalyptus. I recognized the smell, and the apothecary and I were able to extract a good quantity of it from the nearby trees. We attached small sacs filled with the oil to the archers' arrows. The sacs burst when the arrows hit the ground, spattering the oil on any soldiers nearby. One touch to the face or eye spread the oil and caused a nasty reaction. It was very fortunate that the rain subsided when it did; the arrows had little effect when the oil was immediately washed away… Most of the Briar soldiers were waiting in the trees to capture the Kingsmen the instant the oil affected them."

Turlough lifted his hand. "So that's why it hurt so much."

"You were struck by one of the arrows?" asked the Doctor with concern.

"It just glanced off of me," Turlough replied quickly. "But there was fighting, too. I saw skirmishes all around."

The Doctor frowned. "Yes. I'm afraid that some combat was unavoidable. We couldn't use the arrows effectively until the rain subsided. But there were few causalities. The Briars tied up the ill Kingsmen and those who'd gotten the oil—nearly half of the force. The others retreated, and I have a feeling that surrender is not far away. The Kingsmen were quite surprised by the Briars' strategies."

"More like your strategies, I'd say," Tegan offered. She blinked and gave her head a shake as Rundly's livid face flashed through her mind again.

The Doctor rested his hand on her shoulder. "More images, Tegan?"

"Just—"

Turlough gave a short cough. Tegan glanced at him and finished, "Just a fleeting thought."

Again the Doctor noticed the brief interplay between his two young companions, but he refrained from pursuing it. "Come on," he said, "we have a lot of ground to cover."

He ushered his friends through the dense trees.