‘I have my own methods,’ Estro answered.
‘I’m sure that you do,’ Haldoran replied coldly. ‘But that was not a suggestion.’
Estro hesitated, and then nodded acquiescence. ‘Of course, my Lord. I’m sure his talents will prove most… interesting.’ He spun on his heels and left the room.
Looking after him, Haldoran was disturbed. He had noticed in the past how undeferential Estro tended to be. He very rarely addressed Haldoran by the honorific. Now he’d used it twice in a minute. For some reason, that disturbed him. If the man wasn’t so vital to his plans, Haldoran would have had him executed just to be safe. But the damned plotter no doubt knew that.
What was he to do with the man?
Despite the Doctor’s firm grip on her hand, Donna was terrified. Stepping back inside the castle had meant nothing but pain, humiliation and disillusion to her, and it was the hardest thing she had ever done. She tried to remind herself that she was a knight now, trained to fight and overcome all foes. But all she could think of was the horrors she’d suffered. Her body stiffened in anticipation of those pains being reborn.
She couldn’t face it. She couldn’t.
‘Be strong,’ the Doctor urged her. ‘This won’t be for long. And it won’t be like last time. I promise you.’
Another hand took her free one, and she realised that David Campbell, too, was offering her what small comfort and strength he had left. ‘Courage,’ he whispered. ‘You’re stronger than they are.’
Stronger? Who was he trying to fool? She felt as though her bowels were going to let loose any second, and she’d soil herself. She had neither strength nor courage. All she had left was the pain that she would feel, when –
The guards ushered them into a holding room, and then stood at their posts outside. There was no door, nor anything inside the room. It was simply four blank walls, a floor and a ceiling. There was nothing to sit on, look out of, or use for an escape.
Donna collapsed to the floor, dragging her hands free of both men’s. At least here she could go no lower, and she lacked the energy or will to remain standing. Her spirit was ebbing, and she knew that this place would destroy her, even if its master didn’t.
‘Well,’ drawled an old, hated voice. ‘This is surely a sight I never expected to see again. The Lady Donna, back from exile.’
Somehow she managed to force herself to look up at Downs. He stood casually, lounging against the entrance. His bright, nasty eyes were examining her, as if seeking a target for the first of his barbed attacks. Donna’s mouth was dry, and her heart pounding. She couldn’t focus her thoughts.
‘Hello,’ said the Doctor cheerily, stepping forward and shielding her from that hated gaze. ‘I’m the Doctor, and I’m very pleased to meet you. And you are…?’
‘Possibly your death,’ Downs replied, staring at the intruder.
‘Then possibly I’m not,’ the Doctor answered, refusing to be intimidated. ‘In which case, a name might help. Or should I just call you Fred?’
‘His name,’ Donna managed to grate out, ‘is Downs. He’s one of the worst pieces of scum in this whole stinking fortress.’
‘Really?’ asked the Doctor. ‘I’m a tidy person myself, and I don’t think scum belongs in a nice cell like this.’
Downs frowned slightly.’ Watch your tongue, Doctor,’ he replied. ‘Otherwise I’ll cut it out and hand it back to you so you can really watch it.’
‘Oh, you won’t do that,’ the Doctor said, radiating self‐assurance. ‘You’re supposed to interrogate me, and how could I speak without a tongue?’
‘You could still write,’ Downs snapped.
‘With my tongue in my hands? Don’t be silly.’ The Doctor smiled cheerfully. ‘I think we’ve got off to a bad start here. Couldn’t we just sit down for a nice chat over tea and scones?’
‘Doktoro,’ said a fresh voice, one that Donna had never heard before. ‘Mi ĝojas ke vi estas tiu kiun mi bezonis por kompletigi la ludon.’
The Doctor spun around to stare at the newcomer. ‘Tiam kiam mi aŭdis la nomon “Estro”, mi opiniis ke tiu devas esti vi. Via vanteco estos la fino de vi, estro de malbonestroj.’
David looked as confused as Donna felt. ‘Do you know each other?’
‘Oh yes,’ the Doctor said. ‘We know one another very well.’ He looked extremely grim. ‘He’s fond of calling himself the Master.’
Barlow received the radio operators recall with amusement. ‘Arkwright,’ he said briefly, ‘you’re in charge until I get back. Keep moving on. I want London pressured constantly to fall back. I’ll return as soon as possible.’
‘Understood, sir.’
Arkwright was a capable officer, if of limited imagination. Still, at this stage in the game, nothing much should go wrong. He could leave for a couple of hours to claim more of the guns. Then he would return and press home the final assault, aided by Craddock. It seemed as though their plan was working perfectly. Haldoran evidently believed there was a serious rift between the two men, and was working to exacerbate it.
Haldoran was clearly weak.
Barlow knew that what he was thinking would certainly get him killed if anyone else knew about it. But Haldoran could not be allowed to take the reins of the kingdom he was forging. Barlow knew what the man was like, and he despised it. A man like that should never be allowed the power that he sought, because he would simply abuse it. What Britain needed now was a strong hand, but also a disciplined one. And Haldoran was far too undisciplined…
It was almost time for a change…
Donna stared at the sinister bearded man, who in turn was staring intently at the Doctor.
‘Was that your native tongue you spoke just now?’ Donna asked, amazed to find she was still curious, despite her shakes.
‘No, actually,’ the Doctor replied. ‘It’s an artificial human language called Esperanto, invented in 1887 by a Polish oculist named Zamenhof. He wanted it to become the universal language of peace. Typical of the Master to corrupt it. Estro is the Esperanto word for Master.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I had my suspicions when I first heard the name.’
The Master stepped forward, and Donna saw him clearly for the first time. He was dressed almost entirely in black, some odd sort of jacket that fastened right to his neck. He wore gloves, a slightly greying beard, and a rather unpleasant smile. She disliked him immediately. He just… seemed dangerous, more so than Downs, because he had a strength of purpose about him, and an air that suggested he would do whatever was required to meet his goals. She saw the intelligence burning in his eyes.
‘And yet, Doctor, here you are, caught like a moth by a flame,’ the Master said. ‘You should surely have known better.’
‘What better way of getting to you?’ the Doctor asked, spreading his hands. ’And I’m sure you’ll be quite willing to explain your latest little scheme to me.’ He turned to wink at Donna. ‘It’s a weakness of his,’ he confided. ‘He tries to look and sound so bold, but he’s actually quite insecure. He’s always trying to excite my imagination and approval for his nasty little plans.’
The Master regarded the Doctor mildly. ‘I’m rather tempted to just kill you here and now and have done with it,’ he said, sighing. ‘You really are no fun any more. Perhaps it’s age catching up with you. So you’ve changed bodies again? Getting through them aren’t you?’
‘And you’re still in the same old body,’ the Doctor mused thoughtfully. ‘Quite remarkable. You’re rather well preserved.’
‘Thank you,’ said the Master with a small ironic bow. ‘Life has been rather good to me of late. As a result of which, I will indulge your puerile curiosity before I leave you to your fate.’ He turned to Downs and the guards. ‘Why don’t you run along and prepare whatever tools you need for your questioning?’ be suggested. ‘I assure you, I am more than able to keep these three captives until you return.’