Free Doctor Who: The Highlanders by Gerry Davis

mob-cap which almost completely covered her face, a gown, an apron, and a large cloak thrown around her shoulder. The woman was obviously quite aged and hobbled along toward the washerwoman.
    ‘Good nicht, t’ ye,’ called the woman in the sing-song Inverness dialect.
    Mollie shrugged her shoulders. It was a big inn and lots of people came in and out on various business, none of which was any concern of hers. All she wanted to do was get her washing done, return to her small attic room, and rest. ‘Good nicht, woman,’ she said wearily, and carried the platters back to the already overfilled sink. As they clattered on top of the other platters, she turned round and her eyes widened in astonishment as she saw the Doctor’s coat and trousers hanging on the line.
    Trask, meanwhile, was walking along the upper level of Inverness gaol, gazing down at the unfortunate prisoners beneath. The soldiers were waking them up for Trask’s inspection.
    ‘That one,’ he called down, pointing at one of the prisoners, a big burly Highlander who was crouched by the door.
    The sentry reached forward and pulled his shoulder, but the Highlander fell back, his eyes open, obviously dead.
    ‘Nah, no good,’ said the sentry, ‘he’s done for.’
    ‘Next one then, move them along,’ said Trask. He took three more steps and then looked down at the next cell.
    Ben, Colin and Jamie were now standing on the top step. The water had already risen almost to their waists. Trask pointed down. ‘Those three, send them along.’
    The sentry opened the door gingerly, sending the water swirling over two more steps, and Ben, Colin and Jamie gratefully followed him up from the steadily filling water dungeon. They dripped up the corridor, shivering as the cold night air hit their wet clothes.
    ‘You’ll be cold enough when you get aboard the brig,’
     
    Trask’s rough voice shouted. ‘Here,’ he said, ’put ’em with the others.’ Two of the soldiers pushed them towards a group of some fifteen dejected Highland prisoners. The British Redcoats formed ranks around them, and as Trask nodded, the Sergeant in charge ordered quick march and led them out of the gaol entrance, down the hill towards the inn.
    The road was rough and flinty, and Ben was relieved to see that Colin had recovered enough to walk almost unaided. As they passed the lighted inn, heading for the cluster of tall masts that proclaimed the river, an old woman staggered out and collided with the group of prisoners. Ben nearly knocked her over.
    ‘Sorry, old girl,’ Ben apologised.
    The Doctor, for it was he in his old woman’s disguise, muttered something, and for a moment Ben thought he heard the familiar voice and turned sharply; but the old woman was already hobbling away through the darkness.
    Once out of the range of the lantern, the hunched figure paused, watched and then followed the file of soldiers as they walked along the street down towards the wharf.
    They stopped before a large, half derelict warehouse and Trask led the way in. The sergeant hesitated inside and looked around suspiciously, but Trask felt in his pocket and passed the man a couple of gold coins. ‘Over there,’ he said.
    Aided by Trask, the men cleared a couple of barrels away from the bare wooden floor to disclose a trap door with a ring bolt. As Trask nodded, they seized and pulled it open. Underneath was a set of wooden steps leading down, and the sound of water.
    ‘Get them down there.’ Trask turned to the soldiers.
    They started urging the tired, exhausted Highlanders down the steps towards the boat.
    As Ben stumbled down the steps, he became aware of a long boat waiting to take the prisoners, manned by half a dozen rough-looking seafarers. He stopped and turned back to Trask. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘where are you taking us?’
    ‘Hold your tongue,’ said Trask, ‘you’ll find out soon enough.’
    ‘You’ve no mind to drown us, have you?’ said Jamie.
    ‘I wouldn’t pollute the firth