'You and Stockwood must certainly do that,' the Doctor replied. Leela and I are going back to the Three Tuns. I want to find out who's behind this.'

'Doctor, why bother?' Stockwood's voice was also roughened by the sea.

'In fifteen minutes we will be on the Tweed Tweed and weighing anchor. We can forget about it then.' and weighing anchor. We can forget about it then.'

'I'm not so sure. There is a force at work here and I must get to the bottom of it.'

'Cryuni.' I said matter-of-factly.

'Oh, it's something far more dangerous than a semi-mythical religious icon. Something - or someone - willing to kill all of us to ensure the success of their own objectives.'

'I do not understand.'

'That's why you're coming with me. I brought you here to learn about your ancestors. Never look a gift horse in the mouth.'

'You speak of learning and horses and you force me to leave my best friend alone with a man I do not trust! Sometimes I wonder if you are not touched by madness.'

'Good.' The Doctor beamed. 'I like an inquiring mind Now throw the scarf, will you, and let's get down to business.'

I threw the scarf. It took three attempts because my back was in some pain and the scarf was heavy with water, but eventually I managed to loop the scarf around a pier support high above our heads.

As the scarf finally caught, Stockwood called out to the Doctor.

'Should I instruct Captain Stuart to delay sailing until the morning?'

'By no means,' the Doctor called back. 'We'll be there on time. Come h.e.l.l or high water.'

Then, leaving Stockwood and Royston to swim ash.o.r.e against my better judgement, I climbed the pier supports, following the Doctor upward, away from the foul water, towards the moonlit night. And the Three Tuns. And, I hoped, towards the red-haired dock worker who had nearly been the death of me.

We continued climbing, reaching the top of the pier supports, moving back along the underside of the pier and eventually breaking into the tavern through a hatch leading into a brick-lined tunnel.

We moved slowly through the tunnel. The smell of damp and alcohol was almost overpowering. The Doctor paused every now and then to touch the stone walls. I copied him. The bricks were drying out as we moved forward. We were approaching land. The tunnel ended at a thick wooden door fastened by a large iron lock.

The Doctor bent to examine the lock. 'Angus Bolton, 1856. A good year.'

'Why?'

'Because,' said the Doctor, rummaging in his pockets and eventually emerging with a bunch of keys as big as a grapefruit, 'they hadn't got round to inventing the double mortise yet. Now then,' he added, thumbing the keys quickly round the ring, 'spare TARDIS key, Venusian landcruiser dock key, Ford Granada ignition key, key to the Bank of England vault, key to the Exchange, key to the city of Iskenderun, key to - ah! Here we are. Key to Angus Bolton's family fortune.' And with a grin, the Doctor chose a key, inserted it into the lock and turned. Nothing. The key did not move. The Doctor began to mutter. 'TARDIS, landcruiser, Granada, Bank, Exchange... ah. I see, now. Kublai Khan's Key to the World, then then the key to the city of Iskenderun... Here we are.' He tried a second key. the key to the city of Iskenderun... Here we are.' He tried a second key.

Still nothing happened.

I frowned. 'Perhaps it's open.' I pushed lightly against the door.

It swung open.

The Doctor muttered something I couldn't hear and tucked the keys quickly back into his pocket.

'After you.'

I nodded, moved warily into the darkness.

The door opened into what was obviously part of the tavern's cellars Kegs of ale were stacked everywhere. The smell of alcohol was as thick as that of blood at a hunter's kill. The floor underfoot was now rough brick, as were the walls. The ground was dry, with no signs of the damp mould that had accompanied us along the tunnel from the pier.

The stench of scavenger animals drifted through the cellars 'Rats,' the Doctor said solemnly.

'And that's not all, Doctor.' I recognised the voice straight away. The red-haired man.

I grinned in antic.i.p.ation. 'I can hear you. I tell you now you will not leave here alive.'

'So.' The voice came again out of the darkness. ' 'rye got yer pet wi'

yer. Where d'yer find her then? Dredge 'er up from Bedlam, did ya? Or did you tread 'er in from the sewers wiv the rest o' the muck on y'boots?'

'Very good.' The Doctor's voice was quiet, but carried nonetheless.

'Must remember that one.'

'Fer about the next two minutes' I heard the antic.i.p.ation in the redheaded man's voice change to excitement, and shoved the Doctor aside as the gun fired. A muzzle flash lit the darkness. Something tugged at my tunic. I ignored it. A miss. The Doctor hissed, 'He'll need to reload. Ten, maybe fifteen seconds.'

I nodded, moved away into the darkness. Another shot. Another miss.

'He has two guns.'

'I know. Be careful.'

'I will. And I will bring you his head as a trophy.' I moved off before the Doctor could argue. I moved silently, skirting the barrels of ale. I sniffed quietly, tasting the air, remembering with no difficulty the body odour of the red-haired man. I could track him with my eyes shut. The ale and smell of gunpowder complicated things only a little.

I heard the Doctor speak. 'Listen to me. I know you stayed here to make sure we were dead. But ask yourself why we came back. We could have just left.'

'Y'came back 'cause you was stupid or 'cause y'wanted t'find sommat out. Either way 'syer last mistake. I been well paid to take care o' you an'

I'm goin' t'make sure the job's done right this time.'

The Doctor said, 'I have gold. I can pay you to leave us alone. All I want to know is who's out to sabotage Stockwood's expedition.'

Good, I thought. Keep him talking. He'll have had time to reload by now but in another moment I'll know where he is.

'I bet y'do. But y'll not get an answer from me and I'll have as much gold as I want when I pry it from y'cold, dead hands.'

There! Ten yards away behind a stack of barrels. That was where the voice came from. I moved quietly, scooping a handful of dirt from the floor as I did. As a weapon the dirt was a poor subst.i.tute for my knife - but I did not have a choice. I rounded the barrels ready to leap - but the red-haired man was not there.

That was when I heard the Doctor say 'Ah.' in the tones he normally used when he realised he'd made a mistake. That and the distinct sound made by two pistols being c.o.c.ked.

I ran around the corner, b.u.mping my shoulder in the darkness, drawn to the sounds of confrontation. I found the Doctor with his back to the red-haired man, who had both pistols levelled at his back.

I stopped. If I attacked now the pistols would fire - and the Doctor would be dead. The red-haired man turned slightly. I could sense him grinning, the same smile I had seen when he outwitted me earlier. In a moment he swung around one pistol. Now he covered both of us.

I quickly took in the set of his body, the determination on his face, and I knew he was simply going to fire. He was going to shoot both of us like animals. But which would he shoot first? He smiled at me, teeth yellow in the dim glow from an overhead hatchway. Me then. I grinned back - and moved. moved.

I heard the gunshot, felt the ball tug at my hair, threw myself at the floor, rolled, sprang upright, grabbed a barrel of ale and threw it as hard as I could at the place where he had been standing.

A shout of pain, the crash of wood, a splash of liquid.

And another shot. Aimed at me? I was already moving, following up the barrel. It wasn't necessary. The red-haired man was slumped in a puddle of ale, groaning, only just conscious.

The Doctor approached as I searched the man, taking his pistols and crowing triumphantly when I found my knife tucked into his belt. The Doctor bent to examine the mess on the floor.

'Theakston's Old Peculiar. Good year, too. Shame.'

'It will be a shame if we do not get out of here now. He might have friends waiting to avenge his death.'

'You're not going to kill him, Leela, so put those pistols down and come with me.'

Angrily I did as I was told. 'I do not understand you! He tried to kill you. Tried to kill both of us. Why do you not take revenge on him?'

'It's simply not the done thing. Spare an enemy, make a friend.'

'You are wrong. An enemy you spare just becomes a worse enemy. You have shamed him and he will try all the harder to kill you.'

'I don't think so. Now help me with this trapdoor. We've only got a few minutes to reach the ship before she sails. And we don't want to miss the boat, now do we?'

The ship's bell sounded as we scrambled out of the cellar and through the delivery hatch. There was no time now to find out who was behind the attempts to kill us. We only just had time to reach the ship before she sailed. The Doctor began to run. I ran after him, discarding my other boot as I ran. I hated to see that boot go, but having only the one unbalanced me. The docks were shrouded in fog. Lights glimmered in the night. I smelled fish and gas and smoke.

The bell sounded again, dull and distant in the fog. 'How far is it to the ship?' I shouted.

The Doctor, a few yards ahead of me, yelled, without turning back, 'I'll tell you when we get there.'

I straightened up, turned to run - and then fell over, a scalding pain running the length of my arm.

Only then did I realise that the sound I had heard was a gunshot.

The redheaded man.

I must have yelled. The Doctor turned.

Another figure stumbled from the tavern behind me. I heard the footsteps. I felt blood on my arm. I remembered what the Doctor said.

Ten or fifteen seconds to reload.

But did he still have two guns?

I struggled to rise, my balance gone, lurched to my feet. Another shot.

The Doctor threw himself to the ground.

Now we had ten or fifteen seconds. we had ten or fifteen seconds.

I ran to meet him.

Running footsteps followed. Another gunshot. I fell again, this time with a terrible pain in my foot.

The Doctor didn't say anything. He scooped me up in his arms, slung me over his shoulder and began to run. I scrabbled for my knife with my good hand, but couldn't reach the scabbard. The Doctor's shoulder jammed into my stomach I gasped. The running footsteps drew nearer. A shape appeared out of the fog. Another gunshot cracked in the night. A muzzle flash lit up the red-haired man's face. It was twisted in anger and pleasure. Something tugged at the Doctor's hat. He clamped one hand on it to keep it in place and ran even faster.

'Leave me,' I told the Doctor breathlessly. 'I am injured! I am a liability!

If you respect me, then leave me here and save yourself!'

The Doctor dodged to one side, vaulted a wooden rail and began to run along the dock. 'Did I ever tell you... the story of the three musketeers... well, there were four of them really, but the point I'm trying to make is -'

Another gunshot cut him off. He stumbled, recovered, grabbed his hat and ran on.

' "All for one and -" '

The ship's bell sounded again, much nearer this time. Ahead of us I could make out the hull of Tweed, Tweed, lamps blazing in the night. Sails reached up from her decks to the sky, vanished into the fog. The bell sounded again, a constant rhythm. She was already moving away from the jetty. lamps blazing in the night. Sails reached up from her decks to the sky, vanished into the fog. The bell sounded again, a constant rhythm. She was already moving away from the jetty.

' "- one for all and -" '

The Doctor ran for the edge of the jetty. There was a moment of calm as he leapt into the air. He was mad. A web-tree spinner could not leap as high as the deck of Tweed Tweed even if it could cover the distance between the jetty and the ship. even if it could cover the distance between the jetty and the ship.

'- all that - 000fff!' 000fff!'

The moment ended with an agonising thump as we smashed against the side of the ship. I waited to fall into the water. A moment pa.s.sed. We did not fall. I looked up. A rope dangled off the stern of the ship. The Doctor was clinging to it with one hand, his feet fighting for purchase on the smooth wooden planking of the hull. The water beat against the hull twice a man's height below us. The deck rail was half that distance again above my head.

I craned my neck to look back at a familiar sound.

The c.o.c.king of a pistol.

The red-haired man was smiling at me from the docks. One pistol was aimed at the Doctor, the other at me.

The Doctor couldn't climb with one hand. If we fell we would probably drown.

I stared at the pistols.

'Thank you,' I told the Doctor, 'for trying.'

The moment stretched out.