Stron led the the Doctor and Alison through the packed dirt streets of the village. Onlookers still watched as they went by, but now only in brief glances. The moment Stron turned his eyes on them they would look downward and continue on their way. Whatever else Stron was, he held the people's respect, or at the very least, their fear. As they walked Stron made a quick hand gesture to a group of young men across the street. One of them nodded in response. From then on everywhere the Doctor and Alison looked one of these men was nearby. Sometimes a little ways down the road, sometimes strolling along behind them, but always on the ready.
"That was quite a bluff you made back there," whispered Alison "still I suppose you would have regenerated."
"Believe me, it doesn't make death any less unpleasant." The Doctor whispered back.
"You're not seriously going to share..."
"Of course not," he responded "right now we're just looking for a means of escape."
Alison nodded. She carefully scanned each street Stron led them through, but she could see no way they could escape without bringing Stron's men on them instantly. The Doctor noticed several men loading a cart with wooden boxes. Each man was shackled one to another with leg irons, and another man, in a pale gray tunic like Stron's, kept watch over them as they worked. When they had finished loading the cart they were slowly led away. The driver of the cart gave a sharp cry to the insect-like animal in lead and the cart pulled forward, seemingly leaving town.
"Where is that cart headed?" the Doctor asked Stron.
"Oceanside" Stron grunted.
"And what does it carry?"
"What is not your concern."
"I was told that you would provide any and all information I required on your village."
Stron's eyes followed the cart's progress. "The shipments are Malik's personal business, they do not concern the village" he turned to look at the Doctor "...or you."
"It's good to know Malik has someone so capable watching after his interests." the Doctor muttered.
"I am head warrior here" said Stron, a gruff pride filling his voice "I have slain over seventy Toroth in my life, no one has challenged my place for fifteen turns..."
"...and you serve Malik" the Doctor finished for him.
For an instant a look of anger swept over Stron's features. He moved toward the Doctor. "What did you need to see first?" he said flatly.
"The local alchemist" the Doctor answered. Stron's brows knit in confusion. "An apothecary then?"
Stron nodded, "Follow" he ordered, and turned down the street.
Alison watched Stron as he walked. He carried no weapon she was familiar with, only a rope with a wide, flat, hook like shape at it's end which hung from his hip. The hook seemed to be carved from wood, it had a strange groove cut into it's side and a blunt tip that curved in on itself. Alison sighed, she doubted the hook could effectively pierce flesh, but she was certain it was not a simple tool for farming. They soon approached a windowless black building. Stron opened the front door and waited patiently for the two of them to enter, his eyes watching them intently. As they entered, Alison noticed a familiar face. The woman from the ceremony stood in a corner of the room. Her eyes widened as Stron entered.
"Borot!" Stron called out. Behind a cloth covered table a rustling noise could be heard. A small, thin man stood up from behind the table. His graying eyebrows raised as he took in the two strangers before him. "Malik wants you to help these people with whatever they ask."
"Indeed" the little man replied, his voice slightly flustered "Anything I can do to help." he turned to the Doctor "What do you need?"
The Doctor rubbed his chin "What do you have that would rid a body of intestinal parasites?"
"Oh there are many things that can help with that, is there anything in particular..."
"Anything and everything!" the Doctor insisted.
Borot nodded and turned to the myriad of shelves lining the walls of the room. He went along carefully picking through assorted bottles and jars, gathering a small assortment of them in his arms. Alison watched him for a time and then turned her attention to the woman. She seemed nervous, she glanced furtively at Stron then looked back to the door as though she longed to leave but was afraid of drawing attention to herself. Borot returned to the table and began to set the tinkling bottles along it's surface.
"Interesting" the Doctor said as he unstopped one of the bottles and sniffed it. He did the same to several others, then upon opening one of the jars, dumped it's grainy blue contents unto the table. He ran his fingers through the substance. "Not quite what I was looking for I'm afraid."
"Well there isn't much else..." Borot said nervously.
"Oh, but my friend Stron tells me this village is near the ocean" the Doctor smiled "surely you must have some diatom powder."
The apothecary's brows lifted in recognition "I believe I know what you mean, I'll see if I have some available" and he turned back to the shelves.
Stron's attention seemed to be fully on the Doctor's efforts. Alison moved cautiously toward the woman.
"Is the baby all right?" Alison whispered.
"Yes..." the woman responded, all the while keeping her eyes on Stron "he bides well." She then turned to look at Alison "Why were you at our rock?"
"Your... rock?
"My family's place at the cradle."
"It was an accident..." said Alison apologetically "we didn't know what it was."
The woman sighed. "I'm just grateful he was returned to us" she said softly "each day we checked the cradle... some families wait years."
"Years?" said Alison incredulously.
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud thud as Borot placed a heavy sack upon the table. Borot opened the sack and presented it to the Doctor. "Ah yes," he said as he reached into the opening and pulled out a handful of an off white, flour like substance "that's just the thing." Stron turned away from the Doctor to find Alison standing next to the woman.
"What are you doing!" he shouted. In seconds he crossed the room and grabbed hold of the woman's arm. He shook her roughly "What did you tell her!"
"Nothing!" the terrified woman pleaded "I said nothing!"
"Leave her alone!" Alison growled. Stron released the woman who quickly ran to the door and out of the building. He turned on Alison "What did you say, you insolent..." he raised his arm.
In an instant the Doctor was at Alison's side. With a swift motion like a striking snake he hurled a fistful of the white powder into Stron's enraged face. The room was quickly engulfed in a billowing cloud. "Run!" the Doctor shouted, and Alison felt him pull her toward the still open door. As they ran from the building they were followed by the sound of Stron wheezing and spitting. They sprinted through the streets, frightened passersby leaping out of their way.
"What was that?" Alison panted as they ran.
"Diatomaceous earth" the Doctor called out "mostly harmless... nasty stuff to get in the eyes though."
Before long they heard the footfalls of Stron's men behind them. The Doctor increased his speed until he was practically dragging Alison along behind him. In little time they had made their way out of the village. The Doctor finally released Alison's arm and they continued running at a breakneck speed, past the plowed fields and away from the main roadway. The sound of their pursuers grew more and more distant, until it almost seemed that they might be able to get away. Then a strange whistling sound filled the air. The sound grew louder and more intense, then ended in a loud crack.
Alison kept running until she realized that the Doctor was no longer with her. She turned just in time to see him collapse on to the dusty trail. Above him, a silent disk-like hook retreated into the distance, spiraling toward the man who had sent it. She paused and started back toward the Doctor. She saw him try to rise, then collapse once more. He weakly raised his head. "Run" he gasped. She looked at him with uncertainty. "Just go!" he managed to call out. Then his head fell forward. A sickening patch of red welled from the back of his scalp. Alison turned on her heel and ran with all her strength.
Stron and his men reached the unconscious Doctor. Stron raised his red, watering eyes to see Alison becoming an ever shrinking spot on the horizon. "Strike her." he said calmly to one of his men. One eager follower stepped forward and with a swift flick of the wrist, released the hook in her direction. As the weapon drew closer Alison veered to one side and continued running. The man responded with a slight tug on the rope and the hook veered with her. A silent pop could be heard as it impacted with Alison's head. For an instant the rope went slack, then tightened once more as the whirring hook curved in the open air, circling back toward it's master.
"I'll retrieve her" said the young man as the weapon returned to his hand, but Stron stopped him.
"Leave her to the cold" Stron said. Then he turned to look down at the Doctor and sneered. "Take this one to the pit."