Chapter 6: Dread Knight

The familiar creak of heavy footsteps on old floorboards awoke her. She felt every footstep vibrate through the floor and wondered why she hadn't woken when she'd rolled off the bed. She wished they'd tread more softly instead of stamping about like an elephant. It made it impossible to roll over and go back to sleep. Then she remembered she hadn't lived anywhere with wooden floorboards for three years and sat up with a start.

"Sorry," said a voice in the darkness. "The Professor wanted me to check on you."

Kelly rubbed her eyes. Oh. Now she remembered; medieval period, alternate Universe, electrical magic and knights out to kill her, right. She arched her back and tried to ease out the stiffness in her joints. The floor had been not as comfortable as she'd expected. She peered out the window. It still looked dark outside. "What time is it?" she yawned. "It feels like 3 in the morning."

"3?" Ace echoed. "That was hours ago. I've just had breakfast downstairs, egg and porridge. They might have some eggs left."

Kelly jolted to her feet. I slept that long? We shouldn't have stayed in the same place. We should have moved hours ago. She calmed down a little as she eased her fears by acknowledging that if there had been any problems, Ace would have woken her sooner. "Did you just get back?"

Ace shook her head. "A bit before dinner. I was gonna wake you but the Professor said to let you sleep. And," Ace added, "I know you hit people who try to wake you."

"Mmmm," Kelly mumbled in agreement.

Feeling an oddly shaped lump under her head, she pulled a coin purse from the inside of Ancelyn's coat which had doubled as a pillow. She mistakenly breathed in and caught the disgusting whiff of horsehair again. Urgh. She hardly dared to sniff her own hair. Oh, gross. Now she'd be stuck with it all day. Wonderful.

As she pulled her boots on to complete her transformation back into knight attire, she almost trod on the hidden knife stashed inside. She noticed Ace standing at the door, watching her as she got up and belted her dagger to her waist. "What?"

"Nothing," Ace replied quickly. She walked towards the window and looked outside. "Just a bit weird seeing you like this."

Kelly frowned. "Like what?"

"Here. Medieval period, not back at school, you know? It's… different."

You mean back where I should be, thought Kelly. "You can talk."

"Huh?"

"You've changed too, little miss-pro traveller." She smiled slightly. "You're definitely taller. Older looking even." Not a little bit either, Kelly thought. Easily a few years older.

It wasn't just her imagination. That photograph of Ace had stared down at her almost every day for three years. Her face had changed a bit, more angular, less rounded. The long ponytail was back. Her hair had grown back to almost the length it had been before Celia cut it short. Kelly placed it as being about a year or two's growth but the real aging had been in Ace's eyes. It was the kind of aging that experience brought, not time, the kind of look that appeared in newcomer's eyes after spending a few weeks at St Trinian's but multiplied tenfold, maybe even a hundred times. With all that travelling Ace did, she must have learnt things Kelly couldn't even hazard a guess at, but that overall understanding was reflected in her eyes.

Ace scoffed. "Taller, I'll take that. Older, nah. You're the one who's got old." She stepped forward and pretended to squint. "Are those wrinkles?"

Kelly rolled her eyes. "And you're still a child, refusing to grow up like Peter Pan."

"Who needs to get old? The Professor makes up enough old and grumpy for both of us."

That wasn't hard to believe. "All three of us I should think."

They both laughed. Ace sighed, smiling. "I'm glad it was you I ran into, you know, back in that warehouse."

The feeling was mutual. "Me too."

"But, what were you doing there?"

That's a long story, thought Kelly. It'd take me an hour to explain it properly and even longer to explain why I ended up there. She stuck to the short version. "Recovering lost information."

Ace grinned broadly, reading between the lines. "So I see your retirement didn't last. Fancy that."

"It lasted the year," Kelly defended, "and I'm glad it did. The group I had been with got caught trafficking and ended up in prison." A place Kelly strove never to be in for longer than visiting hours allowed. "It might have been difficult to get employed by MI7 if I had been involved."

Ace looked suitably impressed which made Kelly's heart fill with pride. "MI7, eh?" Ace whistled. "How'd you manage that?"

Another long story. "Oh, you know," she began, waving a hand to indicate it was nothing, "a girl who knows a girl. Showed my credentials, a trial period, a hearty recommendation from Miss Fritton to a girl who knows a girl who knows what skills a person would need to rob the National Gallery undetected and be able to convince an art dealer to buy a replica."

Naturally Ace raised an eyebrow, her curiosity spiled. Kelly decided to tell her about the school's near call with bankruptcy and closure. She explained in detail how they'd carried out the heist and made the repayment to which Ace made a fair point about her 'retirement' failing to last three months. It was unsurprising to see Ace beam at the successful experimentation and application of explosives by her two protégés and she roared with laughter when Kelly mentioned the miscalculation that had lead to the obliteration of one of the sheds on school grounds ("'Only supposed to blow the bloody doors off'! The little demons.").

The story quickly lead into the Fritton gold incident and Ace's outrage at the school being so easily invaded and envy of the twin's commandeering and firing of cannons with tinges of regret. While recounting, Kelly found herself feeling satisfied and a tad pleased to notice it. She knew it was unfair but she agreed with Ace's frequently repeated phrase of "I should have been there".

Yes, she thought. You could have been there. You could have been there but you left. We really could have used your help, I really could have used your help but you were unreachable, and not through a lack of trying on my part. It's not entirely your fault though. Your 'Professor' has been taking advantage of your need to escape and seems to know just what to say to make you follow him.

But she did not press Ace about the text and voice messages she had sent; she didn't mention them at all. Instead she shrugged and told her, "We managed without you, like I said we would," and smiled as she asked how many worlds Ace had saved since they'd last met; a topic Ace never seemed to tire of.

Ace threw her off guard by brushing her adventures aside. "I want to hear about you."

The selfless statement rendered Kelly unable to speak. She didn't know how to respond.

"You know what I do and you've living it right now. Tell me about you and everyone."

"It's hardly saving the world. You won't find it very interesting..." Kelly began but Ace disagreed.

"Things are interesting when it's not what you do. You don't do what I do, so I find it interesting."

This is new, thought Kelly. Since when was Ace interested in 'normal' things? Why would she be when she can go anywhere and do anything? Wasn't normal boring for her? She caught sight of the Doctor appear at the top of the stairs behind Ace.

Ace tilted her head and soon noticed the Doctor.

"Ah, you're awake," he greeted Kelly who nodded back with the same warmth as his tone. "I'm afraid they've run out of eggs but there's plenty of porridge."

"I don't suppose they've magically invented coffee yet?" Kelly ventured hopefully.

The Doctor frowned. "About three hundred years too soon for that. There may be some barley tea-"

Ace's eyes widened like she had been caught in the headlights of a speeding car. "Kelly without coffee?" She looked terrified. "We are doomed," she declared.

Kelly ignored the amused innkeeper and the stares of the peasants as she drank her glass of milk and honey. It was the closest she could get to her beloved beverage and it was a very poor substitute. Ace on the other hand had opted for cider ("It's not beer, Professor, it's cider!" she had told him with a cheeky grin) and seemed a lot more cheerful. Initially Kelly had suspected alcohol as the culprit but after taking a sip herself she had gagged. Fermented fruit juice watered down with the tiniest bit of mead.

It was awful!

The Doctor muttered an 'I-told-you-not-to' but Ace continued to drink the abomination, either not minding the taste or ignoring it and drinking it simply in an act of rebellion. Kelly suspected the latter judging by Ace's grins and sideways glances towards him but the aftertaste it left in the throat wasn't worth it in Kelly's opinion. It was clear that the Doctor disapproved. She quietly wondered what he had thought they would drink when the water available was far too filthy to be considered an option. Funnily enough, even with her digestive system seemingly on pause, she still felt the need to eat and drink as normal. She tried not to think about it.

Despite the Doctor's reproachful eyes, he made no move to stop Ace. Rightly so, thought Kelly. If she wants to punish her tastebuds with that garbage to prove a point, then let her. She'll be the only one to regret it.

As for the innkeeper's amusement, Kelly had raised more than a few eyebrows ordering her milk. She didn't quite understand the stares or his baffled expression. It's just milk, she wanted to tell them. There's nothing wrong with it. Was it the honey? The combination? One man even scoffed at her as he walked past and she had to restrain herself from tipping it over his head, or was that just the caffeine withdrawal?

Eventually she caved and asked the Doctor, "Why the stares?"

He looked distant but answered her question, a shine of amusement in his eyes. "Milk is for children."

Now she felt like she was drinking apple juice from a boxed container in a popular nightclub. "Great," she muttered sarcastically.

"From their perspective," he continued, "a knight is drinking milk, a young child's beverage, when typically they would be downing litre upon litre of watered down fermented mead or beer."

She wasn't sure if he was deliberately winding her up or hadn't heard her. "I get it."

He turned to look at her and looked puzzled. "There's no reason to be grumpy."

Kelly swallowed an angry huff in her mug of milk.

"More sir?" asked the innkeeper, trying not to smile.

Go to hell, she thought but allowed her mug to be filled again.

Ace shrugged when Kelly pointed out the double standard of taking a pill to avoid unpleasantries being acceptable but bringing a sachet of instant coffee powder (as much as Kelly despised its taste) was not. When Kelly pressed further, Ace elaborated that it wasn't as simple as dividing things into acceptable and unacceptable. She explained that she had come to the conclusion that just because time travellers should eat what the locals eat, drink what the locals drink and behave like locals did not mean they had to do everything the locals did. "Because," Ace explained, "that might include stuff like stoning or killing or rioting. Next thing you know, you've accidentally changed history."

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Surely a few packets of instant coffee wouldn't alter hundreds of years of human history."

Ace met her eyes with a look of out-of-place weariness. "I once lost a CD player in Germany and WW2 ended with Nazis with lasers, uranium and nuclear weapons."

Kelly blinked.

"Another time I left my tape deck in a classroom in 1963 and wireless transmissions almost fast-forwarded several years," Ace continued, deadpan.

Kelly sighed. She's being too pedantic about this. "It's just coffee, Ace, not an extremely advanced piece of technology."

"Until someone finds it and figures out how to dehydrate food," rambled Ace, "then leads an army and doesn't have to cart a whole lot of food with them that will go off and need replacing every few days."

Kelly felt the mood change strike her like a whiplash and flinched at the unexpected edge to Ace's tone. "Whoa, take it easy." She raised her hands in surrender. "It was just a question."

Ace stared into her cider.

Almost as quickly as the wave of anger had swamped her it receded like the tide after a tsunami. What the hell was that, thought Kelly in alarm. She knew Ace was a volatile explosive in danger of detonating with little warning but this outburst had rattled her. Something about the darkness in her voice had chilled Kelly to the bone. It had been bitter, haunting, brutal and very raw. Most horrifyingly was the conviction with which it had been said. Clearly she had hit a touchy subject… again.

Deciding to leave the matter well and truly alone, Kelly said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Ace murmured, spinning the tankard on the table and avoiding eye-contact. "I shouldn't have… You really don't want anything like that to happen. We need to be so careful what we bring when we go back in time or to other planets. You shouldn't bring things that don't belong." Her gaze met the ceiling. "Bad stuff happens," she stated in a matter of fact tone.

Kelly thought of the rubber ends of the pins in her hair but said nothing.

"Ah-ha!" bellowed a voice and Kelly inwardly groaned. "I knew ye to be a coward but a milk drinker, ha!"

Kelly saw Ace begin to surge to her feet and slapped a hand down on her closest shoulder. Two wild golden eyes met hers. If Ace hadn't already been hyped up by the atmosphere having stood by the sidelines of the arena all day, unable to get involved in the fighting, she certainly was now. Whatever Kelly had accidentally poked had set something alight and an outlet to express her raging emotions had presented itself but now was not the time for an angry outburst or to start anything stupid.

Especially against Mordred.

She sensed that if she did not intervene right here and now, Ace would… Well, she didn't know for sure but it would be violent, possibly destructive and most probably end disastrously. Ace was not being rational but her fury could only carry her so far before Mordred's brute strength would crush her. He would not hesitate to knock her aside or make use of his blade.

Kelly drained her mug then slammed it down on the table as she stood, her fingernails digging through Ace's tunic and into her shoulder. "Don't you dare," she breathed in Arabic. Ace tensed then squirmed as Kelly's finger pressed harder on her clavicle pressure point. Aware of the milk moustache on her face, Kelly wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, her eyes locked on Mordred. "Why, would you like some?" she asked evenly.

His face glowed in anger. "I thought I'd find you here, hiding with you tail between your legs, craven cur," he spat.

Kelly felt Ace twitching under her hand, more unsettled as a shaken bottle of soda.

"That means coward," the Doctor mumbled in translation. "He's annoyed you didn't show up for your duel."

No duh, thought Kelly. Kind of figured that out already. I got knocked out in the second round of the duelling. Not my fault I didn't make it to a round with him. That excuse wasn't acceptable by the look of things.

"Art thou too cowardly to face me, mewling rat?" boomed the knight.

"Suggestions?" she muttered to the Doctor, unsure of how to address the situation without escalating it.

"Or," the knight paused and beared his teeth, "are you the son of a yellow-livered Dane?"

Quick as a flash, Ace slipped out from under Kelly's restraining arm and leapt into a fighting stance in the centre of the room, dagger drawn. "Take that back, scumbag!"

Mordred took one look at Ace and laughed. "And you need your squire to defend you?" he asked, directing his question at Kelly. "Pathetic."

"A squire's all that's needed to whip your sorry excuse for a hide," Ace retorted, steam practically flooding out of her ears. "You need to sneak around and stab people in the dark 'cause you can't hold your own. That's what's pathetic."

She had successfully caught his attention. "Hold your tongue, whelp, or I shall have it cut out."

"And if that doesn't work," Ace went on, "you'll put your tail between your legs and run off to your mother."

God, she really is trying to get herself killed. Kelly shoved herself between the two. "Enough."

While Mordred was distracted, the Doctor seized Ace by the arm and yanked her to his side. "This is not your fight," he hissed at her.

Ace hissed. "He said-"

"I know what he said now stop making things worse."

"So the milk-drinker can fight for himself, eh?" He scoffed. "I doubt you'll last five minutes in a duel with me."

The Doctor raised his voice. "As representative of the challenged, I evoke the right to set the terms of the contest."

Mordred scowled but nodded reluctantly.

"A test of swordsmanship," the Doctor began, thinking quickly. "The victor to be the first to score three clean hits or whomever accepts their opponent's yield."

Uncharacteristically, Modred did not oppose the conditions and only added to them. "Noon, castle courtyard." He gave an unsettling smile before adding, "No magic," as he left through the door.

Once the knight was out of earshot, the Doctor ushered them back into their room.

"What the hell was that, Ace?" Kelly demanded. "One minute you were restless and the next you exploded like a package of unstable gelignite."

Ace continued to glare icily in the direction of the door Mordred had exited through.

"Some of us are rather sensitive about our roots," the Doctor murmured in explanation.

Kelly couldn't believe it. For someone who refused to acknowledge she even had a family, Ace was unbelievably touchy about ancestors who were several hundred years dead who may or may not have been Danes. It was hardly like she could know- Kelly sighed inwardly. She was forgetting time travel. Of course she knows she has Viking ancestors. She's probably met them and drank with them around the fire pit. To her, Mordred was insulting not distant relatives but practically her extended family and close friends. And, if Kelly recalled correctly, that blood relation was how she ended up travelling through time and space in the first place and managed to escape the horrors of boring 1980's Perivale. Of course she would defend them. They were the reason she was here and why she was who she was.

"So how long do I have to live?" Kelly asked, semi-seriously. She was glared at.

"A few hours, time enough try the gates once more," the Doctor answered quietly.

To nobody's surprise the gates were still closed and in no hurry to open anytime soon. On the walk back, the Doctor strategised with Kelly on how best to survive the upcoming ordeal while Ace dawdled along behind. Their biggest concerns involved Mordred not accepting her yield, taking a crippling or mortal blow or Kelly's identity being discovered. The latter could make the duel void in Mordred's eyes.

"Who knows what he might do then," the Doctor mused morbidly and a shiver ran down Kelly's spine.

Kelly tried to steel her nerves as she tied her hair back out of her eyes. Three strikes and it's over and I can give up any time, she reminded herself. She tried not to let Ace's silence bother her but made sure to triple check Ace was putting her armour on properly. Her mind was clearly elsewhere as she managed to make three attempts to secure a buckle that was twisted the wrong way.

Kelly was busy thinking too but, having spent enough time pacing back and forth thinking about everything yesterday, her mind cast itself to the things she had forgotten to consider last time. Like the fact that nobody would ever know what had happened to her. Still, that didn't really change much, she thought grimly. I will have just disappeared again, just like I always do. Except this time not even Polly will be able to find me.

Then there was her unfinished business with the alien policeman. It plagued her thoughts. What might happen if I don't return? What would they do? Would they carry out their threat even if the data I was sent to recover never appeared online? Surely they would consider that a success…

Eventually she couldn't wait any longer for Ace to break the silence.

"Ace, I need you to do something for me."

Ace avoided meeting her eyes and fiercely concentrated on tightening the buckles.

"There's a bag of USB's in my backpack back in the blue box." She spoke quickly, believing it would be easier to get through that way, like ripping a band-aid off in one pull. "They need to be returned to MI7 in London. Polly knows the address. Her number's on my phone. The password is 112."

Ace's eyes glanced up and Kelly caught a glimmer of life in them that had been missing since breakfast. Ace tore her gaze away and stared at the wall, trying to process her own thoughts. She suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Kelly's gloved hands. "Take it off," she commanded. "I'm taking your place."

Kelly squirmed away. "What? No. You can't."

Ace's eyes shone in defiance. She refused to accept that there was no other way. She feels responsible, Kelly knew. She thinks this is all her fault, not just angering Mordred but everything. She blames herself for the mess we're in because she asked if I could come. It's just as much my fault seeing as I picked this time period and I agreed to come in the first place. This is not something she can fix.

The pair danced about as Ace made attempt after attempt to seize hold of her while Kelly swerved and sidestepped out of her way. Ace refused to be deterred. "I've done this longer." She leapt forward. Kelly slipped out of reach. "I've duelled Ice Warriors and Metatraxi. I can do this!"

Kelly didn't know who or what she was referring to but that didn't matter. "You'd charge in like a bull seeing a red flag."

"I can't let you do this!" Ace returned. "You're gonna get killed and it's my fault." Her voice broke. "It's always my fault."

Kelly's heart ached. So that's what it is. Here is the reason for her erratic mood. She's afraid I'm going to end up like the others, thought Kelly, another name she mutters feverishly when fighting a nightmare. She's terrified of it and how powerless she is to stop it. She may be scared of me dying because I accepted her offer but more than that. She is terrified of being alone and would rather risk her own life to ensure it doesn't happen.

"I have no intention of dying," Kelly told her firmly. It's a possibility, a potential outcome of an event not yet determined. Kelly defied the odds all the time, for her job, for herself, for her friends. Yet reason whispered doubts that could not be rebutted. She had to go ahead anyway. It wasn't a choice anymore.

"You better not," Ace breathed in a whisper. With moist eyes, she thrust a trinket on a piece of leather cord forward. "For luck," she managed. Kelly nodded, accepted the gift and slipped it over her head.

Given my recent track record, she thought, I need every ounce of luck I can get.

Her sword struck his. The blow vibrated down her arm, almost numbing it. He was a hard hitter and, unlike Ancelyn, thought he could carve his way to victory with brute force. His strategy was inelegant and unsophisticated but his strength was certain to overwhelm all bar the most skilled of swordsmen. He had no need of fancy techniques or combinations. It was far more effective for him to simply swing at his opponent over and over again until they were too battered to put up any more resistance. It was this tactic Kelly was attempting to weather and she was managing it poorly.

Struggling to keep his sword away from her, Kelly gritted her teeth and tasted blood as she bit the side of her mouth. She gave one more push before releasing his blade and stepping to the side. His sword sliced the air.

She had already copped a pommel to the stomach and it ached. The armour had padded the blow enough that she didn't think any ribs were broken but it had crippled her movability and her stamina as a result. Sweat dripped into her eyes but she didn't dare raise a hand to wipe it away. His strength was too great. She needed both hands and almost her entire bodyweight to block his swings. He really was a monster of a fighter; brutal with the strength of an ox. Winning points had been obliterated as an option after the first ten seconds of combat. His assaulting strikes were merciless. Either he would strike her twice more or pin her to the ground.

Kelly relied on speed to outwit and outmanoeuvre her opponents in the infrequent scuffles she'd had during her years collecting intelligence. She would strike hard and fast, aiming for pressure points and other weaknesses. Her fights usually lasted a matter of seconds before her opponent was incapacitated or disarmed or she could cover at least one hundred metres before they could give chase. For this reason, her stamina was not used to anything this demanding. Her martial arts training had also focused on rapid movements, highly technical and well-timed executions of strikes, blocks and retaliation. If an opponent could not be outsmarted or incapacitated within thirty to forty seconds, running became the next strategy. There was no shame in fleeing. She was not defending or safeguarding like her adversaries; she was obtaining and transporting.

But in general, Kelly avoided open conflict wherever possible. Pairing a speedy opportunist fighter like herself against a slower, heavily armoured warrior like Mordred out in the open was extremely unbalanced. Mordred had every advantage. Kelly had no shadows, no cover, no opportunity and, weighed down by her armour and now a sorely bruised stomach and ribcage, she had no speed.

What usually ensured her survival was of next to no hope to her.

Even though she would never have even considered taking on an opponent like Mordred back in her time, shadows and cover or not, it did her no good to think about her own time. It was a million miles away, thousands of years away, and the only distance of any importance to her right now was that between herself and Mordred.

Mordred did not toy with her but still found time to taunt her between parries. A twitch of his mouth telegraphed another diagonal swing to her right side. With no time to evade it, her arms ached as she blocked once more. Every blow sapped at her strength. She tried to draw upon her determination and frustration and managed to nick his forearm with the tip of her blade.

"Hit!" cried the Doctor from the sidelines.

The combatants separated to return to their starting position in the centre of the castle courtyard. The score was now one all, but Mordred was annoyed now. Rage burned in his eyes. Kelly barely had time to catch her breath before his attacks were upon her once more. Desperately she brought her sword up to defend each wild swing; left, right, down, horizontal. She felt her stances length and was only half aware of her hand sliding into a different grip. She had long since given up on playing it the knight's way. Her more natural way of fighting was not going to be of any help offensively but it was more instinctive and her muscles responded to his lunges and strikes without need of instruction.

She swung wide. He blocked and immediately stepped forward for a counter attack. Scrambling to avoid the next strike, Kelly spun on the spot, sword held between her and her opponent. Mordred halted to narrowly avoid the second return swing of her technique while Kelly spun to face the front. Her foot slipped. He did not give her time to recover. His sword swung towards her. She bit back a cry as his sword sliced right though the padding of her left shoulder. She thought she felt the blade lodge in her arm before being pulled back out again as she fell backwards.

She heard the Doctor call, "Hit!" in an alarmed and pained voice.

Hurried footsteps scattered the gravel as they approached her. Skidding to a halt, Ace crouched and gritted her teeth as she hurriedly tore a piece of cloth to smother the wound. The yellow glaze in her eyes was growing. Kelly turned her head to see the damage and wished she hadn't. Her injured arm was painful to look at. It was already stinging and continued to bleed through the cloth. With an anxious but determined frown, Ace tore off more of the cloth, wrapping it around Kelly's forearm.

Kelly hissed with pain but it was not her arm. She clutched at the armour around her neck. Something was burning her. Before she could seize whatever it was, the burning sensation vanished into a dull throb. Gasping, she looked around wildly and almost fainted when she caught sight of the wound as it pulled itself together.

"Wha-what?" she breathed but Ace silenced her with a stare.

"Nobody's dying on me," Ace stated in a voice that chilled Kelly to the bone. "Not today." With a sharp tug, she tied the two ends of the cloth together, grabbed Kelly's good arm and pulled her to her feet. Before Kelly could process what had happened, Ace shoved a sword into her hand and pushed her towards Mordred.

He leapt back into the fray with such gusto that made Kelly feel ill and lightheaded. She blocked his strikes as best she could but her mind was elsewhere. Instead of watching her opponent's face for warning signs of the next blow, she was plagued by her mind replaying the hit, the fall and the burning. What had happened? Why didn't her arm hurt? What had caused the cut to stitch itself together? Her skin had pulled itself together!

Her lack of concentration lost her the duel. A minute barely passed before Mordred won the final point with a slap of his blade against Kelly's hip.

Disarmed and on all fours, Kelly stared up at his malicious face. "I yield!" she called.

"Already?" he laughed. "You jest. We're far from done."

"You got your three points," Kelly panted. "It's over."

"I say when it ends, not you." He slowly lifted his blade and swung it in a downward arc.

Kelly threw herself aside as his sword struck the ground. What the hell was he doing?! The way he swung his sword around, passing it from hand to hand, made Kelly want to spring to her feet and bolt but the courtyard was empty. Her sword was out of reach. She was defenceless. There was nowhere to hide, nothing to aid her in slowing him down while she escaped. In the pit of her stomach, she knew that the second she turned her back on him and tried to run would be the second his sword would puncture through her chest.

"Mordred, you are victorious!" cried the Doctor from the sidelines, held back by a legion of castle guards. "Cease fighting!"

Kelly watched as the knight turned his head to stare at the Doctor. He smiled. "No."

"Please," Kelly breathed as she crab-crawled backwards to create as much distance between them as she could.

He tilted his head, mystified by the word. "Say it again."

If feeding his ego was going to keep her alive, she was prepared to kiss his dirty, piss-covered boots. "Please," she repeated, staring into his eyes. Her mask was long gone as was her dignity. She tried to project her fear and pleas for mercy through her eyes into his.

He knelt down on one knee to lower himself to her eye level. "You insulted my honour and my name," he declared with soulless gemstones for eyes. "Your squire insulted my mother. You are scum that needs eliminating. My blade yearns to carve your heart out and leave you to bleed to death on the road like a common thief."

Tremors ran down her spine. Kelly had encountered villains of all kinds, from common thieves to murderers and those who exploit others for their own gain. None compared to this. Even the most vulgar and treacherous thief could be persuaded to turn a blind eye or spare a trinket for a price. Not this man. In comparison, black marketers had more of a conscience.

In the distance she could hear Ace shouting obscenities from the sidelines but she had been restrained by a number of spectators bearing the same red and gold emblem on their cloaks as Mordred. Similarly the Doctor shouted out pleas for reason but his words were falling upon deaf ears. Neither of them were in any position to help. Neither of them could save her.

Kelly faced the struggle to preserve her life on her own, the way she always had. I'm going to die here, she realised and contrary to what one was supposed to feel when facing their inevitable demise, she did not feel at peace. I'm going to die like a peasant, unable to defend myself. I'm going to die on the gravel of a castle courtyard thousands of years before I am born on the Isle of Man in the stinking Middle Ages.

And she wanted to scream at the impossibility and irrationality that should be.

"Mordred!" cried another voice as a figure sprinted into the courtyard, clinking and clanking as they ran. "Stay your blade! Thou would not slay a woman!"

Mordred's head jerked up to face the one true knight of legend. His face beetroot with hatred and fury, he looked back down at her with such animosity Kelly felt like he had already split her from top to toe. "You're… Harlot!" he bellowed and spittle rained upon her face.

A movement too quick to see preceded a flash of sunlight on metal.