Free Doctor Who: The Reign of Terror by Ian Marter

reluctantly resumed their toil, the thin lad gaped
inquiringly at the Doctor. The Time Lord grinned cheekily and opened
his hand revealing several gleaming gold livres. The boy's ryes
widened in awed admiration. The Doctor bent down and hurriedly buried
the coins except for one among the dried clay and broken stones
around the edge of the hole. Then he placed the unburied coin by
itself on the surface.
    Taking up his pickaxe, the Doctor
pretended to work away for a minute or so. Then he suddenly stopped.
'Hey, look at this!' he exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the ground.
    The road gang gaped at the gold coin
and murmured in exaggerated surprise, just as the Doctor had
instructed them to. The Doctor stooped, picked up the glittering find
and showed it to the gang as they crowded eagerly round him.
    With a savage oath the foreman jumped
up and strode over to them, flourishing his pistol menacingly. 'What
the devil is it now?' he raged, shoving his way through.
    The Doctor held up the gold litre. 'I
just found this!' he said breathlessly. 'It's obviously part of some
hoard.' He narrowed his eyes and fixed the foreman with a penetrating
stare. 'No doubt the hoard of some tax evader or other ... '
    The foreman snatcehd the coin greedily.
'Hoard?' he scoffed. 'More likely dropped by some passing traveller.'
He bit the coin to test its authenticity and his face immediately lit
up with avaricious interest. 'Where were you digging?' he demanded.
    The Doctor pointed with his pick
handle. 'Just there.'
    Keeping his pistol trained on them, the
foreman thrust the coin into his bulging purse and grabbed the
Doctor's pickaxe. Feverishly he started scraping at the place
indicated by the Doctor and within a few seconds he had unearthed a
second gold livre among the clay and stones. 'Here's another!' he
roared excitedly, picking it up and testing it in his yellowing teeth
before stuffing it into his purse.
    'Get your tools, boys. Let's dig!'
urged the Doctor.
    But the foreman rounded on him, aiming
his pistol at the Doctor's head, his eyes wild with greed. 'This
money belongs to the authorities, Citizens ... ' he declared. 'As
their representative I'll do the digging. Now stay back!'
    Obediently the Doctor led the others
aside. The foreman waited until they had retreated to a safe
distance. Then he stuck the pistol into his belt, spat on his hands,
grabbed the pick and set to work in a renewed frenzy. The Doctor
watched for a moment and then winked at the others. Cautiously he
took a shovel from the thin lad and edged his way up behind the madly
digging ruffian. He hesitated for a few seconds, unhappy about the
drastic action he was about to take. Finally he sighed, spat on his
hands, lifted the shovel high above his head and brought it down with
a clang on the foreman's straw-hatted crown. The big bully uttered a
muffled gasp, looked up in almost comical amazement, and pitched
forward onto his ugly face in the rubble.
    With a nod of satisfaction at his
handiwork, the Doctor silently handed the shovel back to the thin lad
and hurried over to retrieve his coat from the hedge. While he was
putting it on, the peasants suddenly took in what had happened.
Cheering their saviour, they flung down their tools and fell upon the
spilled livres scattered out of the foreman's purse. Filling their
ragged pockets with treasure, they took to their heels like children
let early out of school.
    The Doctor picked up his walking stick
and wandered over to the prostrate figure lying in the middle of the
road. Kneeling down, he sifted through the rubble and unearthed a
buried coin. He polished it on his sleeve and then place it carefully
over the foreman's closed eye.
    'There you are Citizen,' he chuckled
smugly. 'What did I tell you? A total eclipse ... '
5
    The screams of terrified prisoners, the
yelling of the soldiers and the ominous clanging of cell doors had
been growing relentlessly louder and louder. Susan and Barbara sat
clinging to one another on the bed