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Defrabax had once been told that in some distant region men caught and ate creatures of the rivers. He was reminded of this repugnant practice because the men who caught the creatures needed great patience, sitting on the river bank with, he was reliably informed, only a stick and a long piece of thread for comfort.

Defrabax, on the other hand, was not a patient man. His natural disinclination to wait was not helped by the fact that mere feet away a huge stone pipe from the sewers fed directly into the river, and the smell was nauseating. It was raining again, so the effluent was taken away at some speed, but that was scant consolation. Defrabax was not only bored and smelly but wet. Three worse states combined he could not imagine.

He shifted his weight, trying to find some escape from the drizzle under the bare branches of a tree. Without getting to his feet he reached for a stone, and then hurled it into the water. A thick green spray marked its silent passing.

The creatures were late, as usual. Sometimes it amazed him that they could think and walk at the same time. Still, their stupidity meant that they were unlikely to question his motives. Until their tiny little brains worked out exactly what was going on, they'd follow him blindly.

At least, that was the idea.

There was a sound from deep within the pipe, just audible above the sound of the water. A few moments later the first creature emerged, followed by another two. They swung themselves up on to the top of the pipe with their strong arms, and then dropped down to the grassy bank. They made a great show of wiping their feet before coming across to Defrabax.

Defrabax rose to his feet. 'I'm pleased to see you —'

'We are tired,' snapped the leader of the ape-like creatures, his already heavy brow furrowed in concentration. 'Long ago you say we have part of bright world. Defrabax still in bright world and Rocarbies still in dark.'

'Don't worry, my friends,' said Defrabax. 'Everything is working out for the good of your people.'

'Defrabax promise part of bright world if we help. We help. Do not have part of bright world.'

Defrabax smiled. 'Just a little longer. I still need to overthrow the knights.'

'We do not care about the knights.'

'No,' said Defrabax, more firmly this time. 'You must listen to me. Unless we proceed carefully the knights will destroy your race. When the new governing authorities are in place, however, I am sure that they would be delighted to receive a delegation from your people.'

'Rocarbies restless. Now we have seen the bright. New leaders not come, not let us up soon. We come and take this bright world!'

'There will be no need for that. Your attacks are already causing great confusion and uncertainty. The knights are powerless, their influence is waning. My homunculus has reported that almost everything has been prepared below ground. New leaders will soon be required — no, demanded

— by the people.'

'Knights come to dark world.' Typically of Rocarby speech patterns, the question sounded like a statement, Defrabax puzzling over the meaning of the words for a moment.

The knights cannot come down into your world,' said Defrabax firmly. 'They don't know how to. You and the other underground races are perfectly safe.'

'Good. Do well for us, Defrabax.' With that the ape creatures turned away from the old man.

Defrabax adjusted his hat against the rain and started to walk back to the city.

The Doctor and Himesor marched through the city at the head of a large group of knights. Most were dressed in ostentatious armour, their cloaks held just above the muddy surface of the streets. A small number were dressed in the golden protection suits. They probably made an impressive sight if the apprehensive glances of the city-dwellers were anything to go by. A hushed silence fell over the city as they walked.

The Doctor felt faintly embarrassed in his much-too-large suit, trotting to stay at Himesor's side. The Grand Knight stared impassively ahead, and for the moment the Doctor could