6

When Jo woke up, the world was upside down. It also seemed that there was an earthquake in mid-rumble. It took her a moment to realise that she was hanging, her wrists and ankles tied, over the shoulder of one of the Vikings, and that he was jogging with her through the trees as if she were a paper doll.

The second thing she noticed was the smell. The most terrible stink she’d ever had the misfortune to come across, so bad it made her want to retch. Must be bathtime tomorrow then, she thought, wrinkling her nose.

The third thing she thought was that it was actually terrifying being pressed so close to a hot and sweaty Viking. She could feel the muscles in his shoulder working, pushing into her stomach, and at that point she screamed and tried to wriggle her way off.

Jo thought she heard him laughing, but, either way, his arms tightened round her legs and she knew she was going nowhere.

She could see other men running beside her, though upside-down it was hard to tell how many. They were silent for the most part, though from time to time one of them would bark a single word that she didn’t catch.

And then, finally, she remembered the Doctor.

She’d seen him washed away into the powerful currents of the river, a river so cold there were plates of ice tumbling along in its waters.

She told herself not to panic. He’d be all right. He always was. Wasn’t he?

Apart from those times he’d told her about when he sort of died and then sort of turned into another version of himself.

Another version of himself who might not even know who she was, and here she was almost two thousand years before she’d been born.

She started to panic.

Get a grip, Josephine, she thought. Get a grip on yourself.

He’ll be OK.

He’ll get out of the river somehow.

He’ll see these tracks in the snow and he’ll come and find you.

He’ll be fine and the TARDIS will be fine because these ignorant savages can’t even see it, just like the Doctor said.