t was a public execution day in the little Romanian town of Trigoviste and this aroused the usual excitement, so it was unlikely that any of the towns folk would have heard the mournful 'vamping' sound which now echoed around the dark mountains. Indeed, if heard, this sound would probably have been taken as the roar of some awful demon, for the people of the period were terribly superstitious.

 

However, the sound, as you have guessed, was not that of a supernatural entity, although its true origin was no less fantastic. This was a sound which had been heard before on many worlds, and in many pasts and futures; on each occasion, it heralded the arrival of the TARDIS - a time-space vehicle of alien manufacture. And, now that the sound had died away, the TARDIS stood - in a guise of a tall, proud Police Box - strangely, almost at home, by a mountain pass overlooking Trigoviste.

 

Within the machine, two figures hovered about a brightly lit instrument panel at the heart of the TARDIS control room, although the 'pilot', so to speak, would probably have used the term 'control' very loosely. He was a tall and strikingly elegant man -dynamic; his companion, an attractive girl in her twenties, was more appealingly pretty than beautiful.

 

‘Mmm. We appear to have landed in the year 1457, Jo!’ said the Doctor in his uniquely crisp tones, as he studied the array of knobs and switches and dials before him.

 

‘Earth...?’ she asked, hopefully. Jo Grant had not seen her native planet since the god-like Time Lords had restored the ability of the TARDIS to escape the co-ordinates of twentieth-century England, and the Doctor, to compensate for lost time, had at once whisked her off with him through the galaxies and eons. It was alright for him - he felt at home anywhere!

 

‘Earth,’ he replied with a smile. Right then, Jo would have been satisfied with Earth in any century - just so long as she could look up into a big blue, or rainy grey sky. Hurriedly, she followed the Doctor through the TARDIS doorway into the open.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

 

anos Volta, a Captain in the Wallachia Army, led his men on horseback through the dark and lonely Alps towards Trigoviste. The soldiers had heard the demonic groaning sound, even if the villagers had not. Volta had assured the men that it had been nothing but the wind, but they, like he, were a little frightened, nonetheless; tales were told that their lord and master was in league with the devil. Certainly, his punishment of Turkish captives, and anyone else who dared to step out of line, was 'nasty' to say the least.

 

But this was war, and Volta had himself witnessed the treatment of his own people by the Sultan's men. Just the same, that dreadful groaning sound filled his mind was a foul mist rolled off the mountain sides and swirled about them.

 

The Doctor was peering through a tiny pair of binoculars at the town just below them. Jo stood next to him, shivering. So much for blue skies! How she wished that the Doctor would just go back to the TARDIS, and that they could take off and try somewhere else.

 

‘Ye gods!’ the Doctor exclaimed. Through his glasses, he had just caught sight of a big castle beyond a forest, and around which stood rows of blood-stained stakes. He at once realised when and where they had arrived, he felt it unwise to recall the scene to Jo, but they would have to leave at once...

 

‘Hold there!’ boomed a voice from about one hundred yards along the way.

 

‘Come on, Jo!’ the Doctor shouted, grabbing the girl's arm and whisking the TARDIS keys from his jacket. As they darted for the safety of their ship, a fleet of arrows sped just past their heads, chipping lumps from some big rocks nearby; as chance would have it, one of these stony splinters flew and caught the Doctor just above his right eye. He sank to his knees. Momentarily dazed, he got to his feet again and ushered his young companion onwards to meet the advancing soldiers who, if they were to come much nearer, would undoubtedly see the TARDIS which was hidden, at present, behind some boulders.