'And what do you propose to do?'

'I shall re-set this osmic projector and send them back to their own time.'

There came another yell from the top of the stairs.

'Linx, Captain Irongron awaits you! Will you come, or must we drag you forth?'

The Doctor cupped his hands. 'Tell Irongron I am coming,' he boomed. He turned to Rubeish. 'I'm afraid I'll have to find some way of delaying Irongron. We can't have him coming down here.' He looked hurriedly round the workshop. A suit of black armour was standing against the wall. There were a few odds and ends of robotic circuitry scattered about nearby.

The Doctor grinned. 'The Robot! That'll keep him quiet for a while!'

Sarah crept cautiously into the castle kitchens and looked around. There were wine barrels lining the walls, rough wooden tables covered with sc.r.a.ps of food-and a great open fire over which hung an enormous cauldron. Sarah's hand went to the stone bottle in the pocket of her dress...

and something sharp, cold and metallic touched her throat.

She jumped back. A big tough-looking serving-woman was holding a meat skewer to her throat. 'Thief!' hissed the woman angrily.

Sarah drew herself up, and tried to imitate Lady Eleanor's haughty tones. 'Stand aside, scullion. How dare you obstruct me? I'll have you flogged!'

The woman lunged forward, and grabbed her arm. 'Oh, a fine lady, are you? A lady dressed up as a serving wench.'

Sarah looked down at her plain gown and realised it had been a mistake to try and carry things off with a high hand.

She changed her tactics. 'Please,' she whined. 'I'm hungry.

The men on the gate let me through, they said you'd give me food. I've tasted neither bread nor meat for nearly a month!'

Meg shifted her grip to Sarah's wrist and twisted her hand, examining the smooth uncalloused palm. 'No, nor done no honest work for longer by the look of you. All right, my girl.' She shoved Sarah towards a table. 'There's a sack of potatoes, and there's a knife... I'll give you bread and cheese-but you'll have to earn it!'

Irongron looked up in amazement as a fully-armoured knight stalked into his hall, sword in hand. 'By my oath, what's this then?'

The knight spoke in a deep hollow voice. 'I am a gift to Captain Irongron, from the one who made me, my master Commander Linx.' Stiffly the figure brandished its sword.

Irongron got slowly to his feet and walked round the black-armoured figure. 'Another iron warrior, Bloodaxe...

though different in shape. Linx promised me a second.' He peered at the closed visor. 'Why did not Linx obey my summons himself?'

'My master toils to make more fighting robots. He sent me as proof of this. Now I must return to him.' He made for the door.

'Hold,' roared Irongron. 'I would see something of the metal of this gift. Can you fight, iron man?'

'That is my purpose.'

'Then fight me!' Drawing his sword, Irongron advanced to the attack.

Inside the suit of armour the Doctor sighed. He had hoped that his mere appearance in the robot disguise would keep Irongron quiet for a while. He hadn't expected to provide a practical demonstration.

'I am made to fight for you, not against you,' he boomed. 'There will be damage to my circuits. I must return to the workroom.'

Irongron leaped in front of him. 'Cease thy gabble, iron man, and fight!'

He swung a savage blow at the Doctor's head. The Doctor parried it, and Irongron struck again, and again...

The hall was filled with the clangour of sword play as Irongron rained blow after blow upon the black knight.

The Doctor concentrated simply on defending himself, fending off Irongron's wild swings with comparative ease, since, luckily, Irongron's swordsmanship relied more on brute force than skill.

At last Irongron lowered his sword and stepped back gasping. 'Stop!'

Bloodaxe was popeyed with astonishment. 'This iron man is indeed a marvel, Captain. Never have I seen a finer swordsman!'

Irongron mopped his forehead with his sleeve. 'Come, join me, Bloodaxe. 'Tis fine sport this. We'll try the thing's strength to the utmost.'

Bloodaxe drew his sword and advanced to join his Captain. Inside the suit of armour the Doctor groaned again, and raised his sword...

Sarah threw another potato into the stewpot. From outside the kitchen came shouts and yells, and the clash of steel.

She looked up, worried. 'What's all the noise?'

Meg grunted. 'They are fighting again in the great hall, I'll warrant. Men are like children, ever fond of noise and brawling. Get on with your work, girl.'

She stood determinedly over Sarah, watching her suspiciously. Sarah sighed, and picked up another potato.

By now a crowd had gathered. Drawn by the rumour of Linx's latest marvel, the men-at-arms flocked to see this incredible iron knight, who could hold two swordsmen in play at the same time.

The black knight fought like a demon. Whirling, stamping, slashing, it parried every blow. Not once did either of the two opponents break through its guard.

For a second time Irongron stepped back. 'Hold! Hold, I say!' He looked across at his gasping lieutenant. 'We must slow this iron man's speed a little.' He turned to a bowman watching by the door. 'Stick me a few bolts through this creature. We'll see if it fights as well with an arrow in its gizzard. Aye, and if that fails, we'll lop off its head like the first, and try it then!'

The man-at-arms raised his crossbow and took aim.

15.

Shooting Gallery Enough was enough, decided the Doctor. In his normal voice he said, 'Don't you think that's a bit unsporting, old chap, shooting a sitting bird?'

Irongron gaped at him. 'This creature speaks like some Norman ninny. Lift your visor, sir knight!'

'I cannot reveal my face to you, Irongron,' said the Doctor solemnly.

'And why not?'

'It might cause you to have a seizure!'

Irongron came slowly forward. He reached out and lifted the black knight's visor. At the sight of the Doctor's face he jumped back with a yell of alarm. 'The wizard!'

'I did warn you,' said the Doctor apologetically-and made a dash for the door.

'Seize him,' yelled Irongron. The Doctor disappeared beneath a pile of men-at-arms. Subdued by sheer weight of numbers, he was hauled from beneath the pile and forced to his knees before Irongron.

Irongron looked thoughtfully at the Doctor's neck, and raised his sword... Then he paused. 'No! The sword is too quick and clean a death for such as you, Doctor. Since you are a wizard-by wizardry you shall die!'

As Sarah peeled the last of the potatoes, a depressed-looking serving wench appeared. She was promptly seized by Meg and set to work, mixing a huge pot of oatmeal.

Sarah listened for more sounds from the great hall.

Everything was quiet now, but somehow the silence was more sinister than the noise. Meg cuffed the serving wench. 'Go easy with that oatmeal, girl. It's only pikemen we're feeding, not horses!' She turned on Sarah. 'And keep an eye on that stew. If you burn Captain Irongron's supper he'll cut your liver out!'

Sarah tossed in the last few potatoes and stirred the bubbling pot with a long wooden ladle. 'Is this all for Irongron?'

'Him and his special cronies, his chamber guard.'

'What about the sentries on the gate? Don't they get stew?'

Meg was shocked. 'What? Meat for common soldiers?

They get oatmeal, and lucky to get it. And l.u.s.ty enough they are on that. You watch yourself when you take out the pot!'

Sarah gave the stewpot another stir. 'I'm not afraid of men, they don't own the world. Why should we always have to cook and carry for them?'

Meg looked baffled. 'Why, what else should we do?'

'Stand up for ourselves, stop being treated like slaves.'

The little serving girl said wonderingly, 'But we are are slaves.' slaves.'

'Then free yourselves. Don't you want to be free?'

Meg began filling a huge jug from one of the wine barrels. 'Women will never be free while there are men in the world. We have our place.'

'Subservient poppyc.o.c.k,' said Sarah indignantly.

'You're still living in the middle ages.' Sarah shut up, remembering these poor women were doing exactly that.

Meg picked up the jug of wine. 'Foolish thoughts, my girl. Keep them to yourself, or you'll not live long enough to grow wise. I must take them their wine.' She stumped off.

The little servant girl edged away from Sarah, obviously thinking her mad. Turning her back to the girl, Sarah slipped the stone bottle from her pocket and poured a good half of the murky-looking fluid it contained into the stewpot. Concealing the bottle in her dress, she edged closer to the serving girl, who was still stirring her oatmeal.

Sarah gave a cry of alarm. 'Look at that great spider!'

The girl screamed and jumped back. Sarah got between her and the pot, and poured the rest of the Doctor's potion into the oatmeal. She smiled rea.s.suringly at the girl and said, 'It's all right, it's gone now.' The girl picked up her ladle and went on stirring.

Professor Rubeish was de-hypnotising the last of Linx's slave-workers, humming softly to remind himself of the correct polka rhythm. 'Oh see me dance the polka, tra-lal-lal-lal-lal-la.' The scientist shook his head and stared dazedly about him. Rubeish helped him to his feet and pushed him gently over to the others. He surveyed the little group of dazed, enfeebled men. 'Now listen, all of you. You've been kidnapped and hypnotised, but you're all about to be rescued-I hope. There's a machine here that will send you home. Unfortunately I don't know how to work it. The chap who does has vanished but I expect he'll pop up again soon, he usually does... Until then you must all carry on as if you were still hypnotised.'

There was a confused babble of questions, but Rubeish held up his hand. 'Don't start asking a lot of silly questions, I don't know the answers any more than you do.

Now quiet, all of you, someone's coming.'

As the scientists obediently slumped down, Irongron appeared at the top of the steps yelling, 'Linx! Where are you? I have news...'

When there was no reply, he came down into the workshop. 'Linx? Linx, you dog, where are you hiding?'

Irongron hunted round, until at last he found the Sontaran lying bound and unconscious in a dark corner of the workshop. Irongron laughed, and prodded him with his toe. 'By the sword, so there you are, you dragon-eyed toad!'

Linx's eyes flickered open, and his face twisted with rage as he realised his position. He began struggling furiously.

Irongron drew his sword. He looked thoughtfully at the helpless Sontaran for a moment, then decided he still needed him. He sawed through the plastic flex with his sword. 'Who put these bonds on you?'

'The Doctor,' croaked Linx. 'I was struck down from behind.'

Irongron laughed. 'That's rich. I came to tell you that the Doctor has been captured.'

The Sontaran struggled to his feet. 'Where is he?'

'About to die,' said Irongron cheerfully. 'Come with me, Linx. You shall see rare sport!'

Stripped of his armour, the Doctor stood against the rear wall of the great hall. Pikemen stood at the corners to his left and to his right, though they kept well clear of him. By the main door at the other end of the hall stood half-a-dozen of Irongron's men, all armed with the new rifles.

Irongron, Linx, Bloodaxe and a scattering of men-at-arms stood just behind the riflemen. Meg came round with a jug, and poured wine for them.

'May I enquire the purpose of all this tomfoolery?' asked the Doctor acidly.

Irongron smiled evilly. 'I would not have your death be in vain, good sorcerer. I intend it shall be of use to me.'

'I will do nothing that will help you, Irongron.'

Irongron rubbed his hands together. 'Nay, but you are wrong. My men lack practice with the new weapons. A living target will better their aim before tomorrow's battle.'

He tapped the nearest rifleman on the shoulder. 'You, fellow, shoot!' Startled, the man fired. The Doc-tor ducked, and a chip of stone flew from the wall, a good foot away from his head. Irongron laughed. 'The knave shoots so ill, you were safer to stand still, Doctor.' He tapped the next man. 'Shoot!' The next man fired. He missed- though only by inches.

'See,' called Irongron, 'the aim improves. Be patient, Doctor, we shall hit the target in good time.'