Romana and Teyamat made their way towards the centre of the mountain through still-darkened corridors. They had almost reached their destination – the Shrine of Pengallia – when Brothers Felix and K'Meth, the first monks to see them, stepped forward to challenge them.
Abbot Gesar had ordered the brothers to guard the Shrine almost as an afterthought, and they seemed uncomfortable carrying staves and wearing their traditional armour. When Romana and Teyamat appeared, almost invisible beside the combined glow of a burning torch and the three faintly luminous unshadows, their uneasiness with their assignment grew.
Stay where you are, broadcast K'Meth.
"Don't you want to see who we are first?" Teyamat called out, stepping closer towards the light. "I wondered how long it would take them to find us," she muttered. "Come on, Romana."
"That's far enough," called Felix. As he did so, the shape of the unshadows became clearer. "How did you… what are those?"
Lowering her torch, Teyamat laughed her most unnerving laugh. But what unsettled the brothers most were the three slavering creatures that vaguely resembled predatory hounds, and which moved silently forwards, pausing several feet ahead of their new mistresses.
"Don't you know the legends, Brother Felix?" Teyamat taunted. The sound of deep, alien growls echoes through the monastery, and Felix became visibly pale. "And what about you, K'Meth?"
The k'thellid brother seemed rooted to the spot. His head was a nasty shade of puce, and Romana got the impression that he was… quivering.
"Keep those things away," said Felix, extending his stave towards the newcomers.
"They won't harm you…" the old crone continued, "so long as you stand aside for your Queen."
"Queen? I don't…"
"These are the dvora; the Devouring Hounds of Pengallia. Don't you recognize them?"
"No… yes. But… that means…"
"Precisely, Brother Felix. This is Our Lady returned, just as I've been saying all along. She has taken the ordeal and she has prevailed; she has placed the Royal Crown upon her head and communed with her past. Stand aside for Majestrix Pengallia, Exarch of Madron."
Faltering for a moment, the brothers considered their position, and stepped aside, lowering their heads and their new leader and her retinue stepped forwards into the shrine.
"There," said Teyamat. "That seems to have done the trick."
"Hmm," Romana paused as she noted the guards' newfound obeisance, "I could get used to this."
The gentle tug of K9 upon his scarf and the gentle tap-tap of his makeshift stick led the Doctor into the centre of the room. Combining years of practiced oration with what Voltaire had once described as his charisme étincelant, the time lord projected his commanding presence onto his newfound audience.
"For those of you to whom I haven't been introduced, I'm called the Doctor. I'm a time lord, and in equal measure I've come to be known as a troublemaker or a troubleshooter. As you can all…ah… see, and as I cannot, I've taken steps to ensure that I won't be making any more trouble during my stay here."
What happened to your eyes?
"Protector K'thellid, I presume?" The Doctor winced as the words echoed like hammer-blows inside his head. "Could you think at me a little less? I'm afraid it's rather painful at the moment. I'm not used to doing this blind, but I want you all to know that I am a man of peace, and that I came here in error, not as an agent of the Time Lords. You may also wish to know that the power used to kill your people was generated without my agreement."
"If you're not an agent of the Time Lords," asked one of the priests, "then how was your power activated?"
"I'm sorry," said the Doctor, "and you are?"
"Abbot Gesar."
"Ah. The big cheese from the top of the hill? Well I'm glad you asked that question. Have you heard of a tychomnemonic array?"
The abbot nodded. "It's a navigational marker, isn't it?"
"Yes." The Doctor agreed. "There's one here, in the forest. I stumbled across it when I first arrived and it infected me with the carnifex power. I've had no control over it since then; it used my eyes to kill, and as you all can see, I've killed my eyes. Without them I have the trigger, but not the weapon."
"That doesn't excuse you," said Gesar, "you're still a time lord."
And the Time Lords are our enemy.
"But we don't have to be," winced the Doctor. "Where I come from the conflict between our people was a very long time ago, and most of the time lords will have forgotten the k'thellid. I can't forgive their actions, but I can apologize for them."
"If you aren't their agent," asked Councillor Erkal, stepping forwards, "how are you authorized to apologise on their behalf?"
"As it happens, I'm very authorized."
Explain.
"I'd love to, but… I'm not sure you'd believe me right now."
"Apparently," said Gesar, "the Doctor here holds high office back on Gallifrey. Lord President, no less."
"Ah," said the Doctor, "so you've been talking to Romana. Is she here?"
"Negative, master." K9 noted.
"Your consort is currently in protective custody."
"Consort?" the Doctor laughed. "Romana is many things to me, abbot – travelling companion, reluctant teas maid, critic… but that isn't how this President operates. And it wasn't in any official capacity that I was offering to help you."
Explain.
"Alright, alright. I am, it has to be said, multitalented. I can help you in a number of ways, from trimming your hedges to valuing your glassware, but I'm also a fully qualified solar engineer. I know your sun is damaged, and I know your technology seems to be breaking down. I also understand the precarious political balance you find yourselves in, and that you'd be better off without the interference of a bunch of xenophobic vigilantes; and I can definitely help you with that."
"What?" Stepping forward to face the Doctor, nose to nose, the red-faced Sheriff Aldus addressed the room. "The Doctor here is my prisoner, and while this is all quite interesting stuff I think visiting hours are over. Sergeant Malthus…"
Silence, Aldus, thought the Protector. Stay where you are, sergeant.
Moving to his commander's side, Sergeant Malthus closed ranks against the monks and the k'thellid. "The sheriff is right. The Doctor is a criminal whose actions need to be properly investigated."
The abbot, however, agreed with the Protector. "Aldus, be quiet. Speak up, Doctor. What do you know of the Honour Guard?"
The Doctor reached forward, fumbling briefly before placing a hand on the sheriff's shoulder. "Will you tell them Aldus, or shall I?"
The sheriff sighed. "Doctor, you're sick and in pain." Turning to face his prisoner, Aldus took the Doctor's wrist, closing his hand around it with a vice like grip. "You need help," he urged. "Let me…"
"Do not move," said K9 sharply, trundling forwards with his laser extended, "or I shall be forced to incapacitate you."
"Thank you, K9," said the Doctor as Aldus released him. "Firstly, I'd like to say that Aldus here has been a first rate host. Hospitable, considerate, and an excellent chef but, as you're all no doubt aware, his competence as a leader is sadly lacking."
"Do you have a point, Doctor?"
"I always have a point, abbot. Your beloved sheriff swings both ways. Poacher and Gamekeeper; cop and robber; sheriff and Lord Commander of the Honour Guard."
There was a long pause as the accusation sank in. The sheriff's slumped shoulders and downcast eye, coupled with the look of shock and resignation in his sergeant's face, removed any lingering doubts.
"Aldus, I always thought you were an oaf, but… is this true?"
It is true, Gesar. I sense it.
The Doctor continued. "What you have to understand, is that Aldus here is only a symptom of the problems you've all created. You, abbot, sit in your ivory tower up the mountain while you, Protector, keep your head buried under the sand. Aldus is such a poor excuse for a vigilante leader you'd have noticed if you'd paid attention. I don't say this often about my enemies, but deep down the sheriff is a reasonable man. He just holds the wrong beliefs, and likes bashing alien brains out."
Near the front doorway, Councillors Erkal and Tanith were looking around, furtively. Nudging his colleague, the pendectarian carefully slid a small item out from his folded robes, passing it into the stonemason's hand.
"Sergeant Malthus, arrest the sheriff," instructed the abbot.
"Ah. Malthus is his accomplice, I'm afraid," said the Doctor as Councillor Tanith glanced down uncertainly at a small, antiquated staser. He looked questioningly as Erkal's eyes urged him to act. Cautiously, he raised the blaster, uncertain of what to do next. Shoot the Doctor or his dog? Silence Aldus and Malthus?
"Another desperately nice chap," said the Doctor of Malthus, oblivious to the unfolding conspiracy around him, "except for his love of the boot. There's another called Verus. I could identify a few more, but only by sight."
Across the room from Tanith, the sheriff could see the weapon in his hand and the uncertainty on his face. Seizing the opportunity, Aldus barrelled forwards as a stray staser blast was unleashed into the ceiling. He ploughed through the monks and past the councillors, and a moment later Malthus moved to join him.
"Stop him," cried the abbot as the sergeant shoved him aside.
K9 unleashed a cone of red light, which enveloped the sergeant. Malthus crumpled to the floor as Aldus, followed by Councillor Tanith, fled from the room. Mobilised into action, several of the monks attempted to pursue them, but a frail and flustered Pendectarian Erkal blocked their way, apparently overcome by the flurry of activity.
The brilliant blue Oculus-generated light that now filled Pengallia's shrine gave way to the softer, whiter glow of the TARDIS interior as Romana, Teyamat and the dvora entered the console room.
"Right," said Romana, striding over to the navigational panel, which was just as she had left it. "Look at this mess."
Sweeping wires and exposed components aside, Romana flicked a switch and pulled out a small keypad that formed part of the coordinate programmer. She then moved across to the scanner controls, where she attempted to fix the Doctor's position.
She cursed.
"What's wrong?" Teyamat asked, stretching up to try and peer over her tall companion's shoulder.
"I can't find the Doctor." Romana explained. "All these life signs are too similar."
"Do you know where he might be?" The old crone asked. "If I know his approximate location I might be able to help."
"No, I…" Romana desperately tried to think of where the Doctor might be. Then she considered where he shouldn't be, which would probably turn out to be where he was. "Wait," she said, "do you have robots on this planet?"
"Robots? No, why?"
"Good." Romana shifted the focus of her search onto K9. "What about transmitters? Which parts of the electromagnetic spectrum do you use?"
"We don't use any, Romana. The nature of the Oculus prevents it."
"Of course," Romana smiled, "it must shift through the spectrum as the day progresses. K9 will constantly be adjusting his receptors to keep out the interference. The chamber outside's bright again, so we're in the day cycle. I'll try radio waves."
Turning an old and anachronistic dial, Romana began to search the electromagnetic spectrum for signs of the little dog's presence.
"Well?"
"He's not responding," said Romana, "but he appears to be actively scanning. I think I've got a fix." Romana transferred K9's coordinates to the programmer, and reached for the dematerialisation switch. At the centre of the TARDIS console the clear cylinder and the crystal rods which formed the apex of the ship's time rotor began to rise, fall and rotate, accompanied by the fain wheeze and groan of dimensional displacement.
No sooner did the dematerialisation begin, than it stopped. The TARDIS had gone nowhere.
"I don't understand," muttered Romana, scrolling through the pages of on-screen data which played back the dematerialisation process. "Micro-jumps," she concluded.
"What?" Teyamat looked at the display.
"The TARDIS doesn't do micro-jumps very well," said Romana.
"Can you fix it?"
"Not without…" Romana paused, and then smiled a superior smile. "Why not? The Doctor isn't here to stop me."
Reaching forward, she pressed a black button on the keypad, and a moment later a small black cartridge was ejected from the console. Removing it, Romana slipped the object into her pocket.
"What's that?"
"The TARDIS Log. Now all I have to do is reattach the isochronic regulator, reset relative mean time and…"
"We're away?"
"We will be," Romana said, looking down at her beautiful-but-grubby robes, "but I think I'll need a bath and a change of clothes first."
With the chaos of Aldus' escape behind them, Gesar and the Protector's attention had returned to the Doctor, who, along with K9, was now surrounded by stave-bearing monks, whose determination not to lose another prisoner went completely unnoticed by the Doctor.
"Well," said Gesar, regaining his composure, "finding out about Aldus has certainly made this trip worthwhile, but it doesn't change the purpose of my journey. So, Doctor, are you ready to surrender yourself to us?"
The Doctor grinned. "Not to you, abbot. While I'm sure your hospitality will be as warm and appealing as it has been to my friend Romana, I'm afraid I must instead place myself at the mercy of Protector K'thellid."
"What?"
"I've taken k'thellid lives, abbot, and therefore it's the Protector's authority that I must recognize."
You will be treated fairly, Doctor, thought the Protector.
"K9 has assured me that you will be reasonable, Protector, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't pay for my unwitting crime."
"Wait," the abbot continued. "I want him searched first."
As two of the monks moved forward to examine the Doctor, K9 half-rotated, and his nose-laser clearly pointed in their direction. "Keep back."
"It's alright, K9," said the Doctor, beckoning them forwards. "I have nothing to hide."
"Check his pockets," instructed the abbot, as a number of familiarly unfamiliar objects were removed from his coat
"What's that?" Gesar asked as one of the monks placed Malthus' tube of healing salve onto the table beside him.
The Doctor shrugged, pointing to his eyes. "I'm supposed to be able to answer that question?"
Stepping forward, the abbot examined the object, removing its lid and taking a sniff. "Healing salve," he concluded. "So, you get taken down into the undercity, heal your eyes while nobody's looking, and then you can go on another killing spree, burning mind after mind unchecked by those of us immune to your power."
The Doctor shook his head. "That's not my intention. I'm assured that salve will take weeks to heal me, and I sincerely hope this matter will be settled far sooner than that."
"I disagree," said the abbot, turning to the Protector. "I believe this is a trick. The Doctor has nothing to offer, and remains the greatest threat that we face. He must be executed immediately, for the good us all."
I think not, Gesar, the Protector argued, do you not remember the words of Pengallia? Above all, you must keep peace.
"That's the peace with the k'thellid, Protector. Not the Time Lords."
You were Time Lords once, Gesar. We must hear the Doctor's terms.
"No, I'm sorry Protector, I can't allow this."
On the abbot's instructions, the Monks of Madronal moved forward, extending their staves.
The screaming wail of air displaced by matter slowly filled the room as the tall, dark, rectangular shape of an battered blue police box took solid form, interposing itself between the monks and the Doctor. Breaking into a wide grin, the Doctor edged backwards against the solid shape of the TARDIS exterior, reaching behind himself to feel for the handle, which would give him entry into his beloved ship. As he did so, his face fell slightly as he realized that the door was on the other side of the box.
Inside the TARDIS, Romana adjusted her new collar. She had plaited and tied back her hair before slipping into a silver, high-collared body suit she'd found in the TARDIS wardrobe. Transferring her newly acquired sash and the best of the accompanying jewellery, she added her fur-lined, white hooded cloak to complete the picture. Certain that she looked every inch the Empress, she turned her attention to the monitor screen. She could see that the Doctor was in danger, with his back to the sensors. K9 had positioned himself between her friend and the abbot, who seemed determined to administer rough some justice.
"I've been waiting for this for a very long time," she said, smugly, as she prepared to activate the door control.
"Don't go out there, Romana," said Teyamat, who was also inspecting the view screen. "It's too dangerous for you."
"What?" Romana was confused. She had the sash, the hounds and the regal bearing. She was certain she would win Gesar over this time.
"Do you see… there?" Teyamat pointed to the large pink octopus, or decapus, which sat behind the armed monks, filling much of the room. "It's the K'thellid Protector itself."
"One of K'thannid's descendants. Ah," monsters out for revenge were the last things Romana wanted to deal with, "but the Doctor…"
"He will be alright," said Teyamat, "Trust me."
"Trust? We still have to sort that out after your little trick. What do you suggest?"
Teyamat pointed to the three near-tangible forms that lay around the TARDIS console. As if on cue, Vervix, Varnax and Vulpix pricked up their otherworldly ears.
"Send out the hounds."