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(It is the next morning. Where the TARDIS once stood, there are now only footprints in the sand.)


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(The DOCTOR, AGAMEMNON, ODYSSEUS and CYCLOPS arrive at the spot. They all look round. Behind them STEVEN is held by several soldiers. CYCLOPS hands the Trojan plaque to ODYSSEUS who glances over it.)

ODYSSEUS: Well, father Zeus, where is this temple of yours?
DOCTOR: Well, it should be about here somewhere, hmm! It's rather hard to understand, these sandy plains are so much alike, hmm!

(AGAMEMNON looks at the various tracks.)

AGAMEMNON: Well, something has been here.
ODYSSEUS: And someone, too.

(He points.)

ODYSSEUS: For see, some several tracks lead up to Troy. Lord Agamemnon, admit your fault - these men are spies!
AGAMEMNON: So it would begin to seem. Bring on the prisoner.

(STEVEN is shoved forward by a pair of soldiers.)

AGAMEMNON: Well, father Zeus, you have but one chance left to prove yourself.

(He indicates STEVEN.)

AGAMEMNON: Kill this Trojan spy.
ODYSSEUS: Yes, fling a thunderbolt or some such, do. Do rise to the occasion!
DOCTOR: This sacrifice can only be performed within the temple.
ODYSSEUS: Which temple is in Troy, therefore would we release you? Just so.

(The DOCTOR sighs.)

ODYSSEUS: I for one have had enough!

(The DOCTOR realises the game is up.)

DOCTOR: Do not labour this point! I am not Zeus, and this young man is a friend of mine. Neither of us are Trojans, sir.
AGAMEMNON: I care not who you are. Seize him!

(The soldiers do so and start to bind their hands.)

AGAMEMNON: It is enough that you have trifled with my credulity and made me look a fool in front of all my captains. (To the soldiers.) Now, finish the business and be brief! And do not bring their bodies back. Let them rot here, so that they can be an example to their fellows.

(The General storms off, leaving the DOCTOR and STEVEN in the hands of ODYSSEUS and the soldiers. STEVEN speaks quietly to the DOCTOR.)

STEVEN: Are you quite sure Vicki couldn't have dematerialised the TARDIS?
DOCTOR: Of course she couldn't - I told you last night!

(They break off as ODYSSEUS approaches them.)

ODYSSEUS: First of all, mannikins - who are you?
DOCTOR: I think you, er, had better tell him.
STEVEN: Yes, well this may take some time!
ODYSSEUS: I will be patient. But this time, if you value your lives, do not lie to me!

(He laughs.)


(A crowd has gathered in the busy main square of the city. The palace stands on one side of the square, while a flight of steps on the other side leads up to the imposing temple building. A number of Trojan soldiers are finishing depositing the TARDIS, fresh from its journey from the plain, in the middle of the square. The leader of the group steps forward and addresses a band of soldiers - he is PARIS, second son of King PRIAM of Troy, a slightly effeminate young man.)

PARIS: Sound the trumpets!

(A group of trumpeters bellow out a chorus.)

PARIS: Dismiss!

(The soldiers leave. The ear-splitting noise stops. An old man comes hurrying out of the palace - King PRIAM; he clearly does not appreciate such loud noises at this early hour holding his hands over his ears...)

PRIAM: Silence! Great Horse of Asia, is none of us to rest? Who's there?

(PARIS steps forward from the throng and speaks confidently.)

PARIS: Paris, father, returned from patrol.
PRIAM: Well, what news? Have you avenged your brother Hector? Have you...have you killed Achilles?
PARIS: I...sought Achilles, father, even to the Grecian lines, but he skulked within his tent. (Chuckles.) He feared to face me.
PRIAM: Well go back and wait until he gets his courage up! Upon my soul, what sort of brother are you? Furthermore, what sort of son? What...

(The king's diatribe is cut off as he catches sight of the TARDIS sitting in the square.)

PRIAM: What is that you have got there?
PARIS: (Proudly.) Ah. A prize, father, captured from the Greeks.

(PRIAM approaches the TARDIS.)

PRIAM: Hmm, captured, you say? I wager they were glad to see the back of it! What is it?
PARIS: What is it? Well, it's er, it's, sort of, erm...a shrine, or so it seems.

(PRIAM tries to open the door.)


(His face looms large on the scanner. Watching, VICKI reacts with fear and nervousness.)


(PRIAM finishes his examination of the TARDIS and turns to PARIS.)

PRIAM: And what, may I ask, do you propose to do with this seeming shrine?
PARIS: Well I had rather thought of, er, putting it in the temple.

(A regal-looking young woman has been listening to the conversation from the temple steps; she now decides to join in. She yells with a shrill, but poisonous, voice.)

CASSANDRA: Ha! You're not putting that in my temple!

(She moves to join PRIAM and PARIS.)

PRIAM: I should think not indeed, bringing back blessed shrines. Go back and bring Achilles' body, if you want to do something useful! Get back to the war!
CASSANDRA: And take that thing with you.

(She points at the TARDIS. PARIS is indignant.)

PARIS: Oh, really! If you...if you knew the weight of this, this, this... thing...

(He speaks quietly to PRIAM as the woman - CASSANDRA - comes down the temple steps to join them.)

PARIS: Father, if Cassandra doesn't want it, can't we just leave it where it is for the moment?
PRIAM: In the middle of the square?
PARIS: Yes - I mean, it could be a sort of, er, a sort of a monument.
CASSANDRA: A monument to what?
PARIS: (Proudly.) Well, to my initiative, for instance. After all, it is the first sizeable trophy we've captured since the war started. Probably turn out to be very useful.
CASSANDRA: What sort of use would you suggest?
PARIS: (Scoffs.) What sort of use! Well...

(He thinks.)

PARIS: Don't quite know, actually. But I mean, once we've examined it thoroughly, it'll probably prove to have all sorts of uses.
CASSANDRA: I'm quite sure - uses to the Greeks!
PARIS: What do you mean?
CASSANDRA: Why do you imagine that they allowed you to capture it?
PARIS: (Scoffs.) Allowed me? Allowed me? Now you look here, Cassandra...
CASSANDRA: Where did you find it?
PARIS: Where'd I find it? Where d'you think - out there in the middle of the plain!
CASSANDRA: Unguarded, I suppose?
PARIS: Yes, of course! I...I mean, yes, it was...well...
CASSANDRA: Just as I thought. Can't you see that you were meant to bring it into Troy?
PARIS: No, I can't see, quite frankly!
PRIAM: I think I'm beginning to see.
PARIS: What are you two getting at?
CASSANDRA: You've broken my dreams. The auguries were bad this morning; I woke full of foreboding.
PARIS: (Mutters, to PRIAM.) Never knew her when she didn't!
PRIAM: Paris, your sister is High Priestess. Let her speak.
PARIS: All right, Cassandra, now what was this dream about?
CASSANDRA: (With dignity.) Thank you. I dreamed that out on the plain the Greeks had left a gift, and although what it was remained unclear, we brought it into Troy. Then at night, from out its belly, soldiers came and fell upon us as we slept.

(PARIS looks distinctly unimpressed.)

PARIS: Yes, well I hardly think we need trouble to interpret that one! Oh really, Cassan... (Laughs.) H...h...have you looked at this "thing", as you call it? I mean, just how many soldiers do you think you can get inside that? A whole regiment, perhaps? I mean, you'd be very lucky to get even two medium-sized soldiers out of that thing.
CASSANDRA: Fool! One soldier could unbar the gate and so admit an army! It's exactly the sort of scheme Odysseus would think of.
PRIAM: Why don't we open the thing and see?
PARIS: Yes, well that is rather the point. You see, there... is a door, but, erm, it doesn't seem to open.
CASSANDRA: Just as I said - it's locked from the inside.
PRIAM: Oh, it is, is it? Stand aside.

(King PRIAM grabs PARIS' sword and strides up to the TARDIS. He tries hacking open the door but his blows make absolutely no impact on the TARDIS.)

PARIS: (Sighs.) Well, there you are, father. Perhaps you'll believe me next time, I suppose.

(He turns jovially to his sister.)

PARIS: Oh, Cassandra, perhaps you'd like to care to have a try?
CASSANDRA: The thing need not be opened. Bring branches, fire and sacrificial oil. We'll make of it an offering to the gods of Troy! (She smiles.) And if there be some within, so much the greater gift!


(VICKI, who has been watching and listening to the conversation on the scanner, is desperately searching through the TARDIS wardrobe for something suitable to wear for the age. She sighs with impatience as the clothes she comes across are obviously wrong.)


(STEVEN and the DOCTOR are standing under guard, their hands still securely tied behind their backs. The soldiers look on as they tell their story to a disbelieving ODYSSEUS.)

STEVEN: So really, you see, we arrived in your time entirely by accident. It's just another miscalculation by the Doctor.
DOCTOR: Well, I would hardly call it a miscalculation, my boy.
STEVEN: Well then, what would you call it?
DOCTOR: Well, I think with all eternity to choose from, I did rather well to get us back to Earth! (Chuckles.)
STEVEN: Oh, I'm very glad you're pleased with yourself. I suppose I should be grateful for standing here...trussed like a chicken, ready to have me throat cut!
ODYSSEUS: No-one mentioned cutting throats.
DOCTOR: No, they didn't.

(He laughs gently.)

ODYSSEUS: (Laughs.) I had...I had something more lingering in mind.

(The DOCTOR'S smile disappears.)

DOCTOR: Yes, yes, I dare say. I suppose some kind of, er, ritual death, I presume?
ODYSSEUS: Sit down.

(He pauses expectantly; STEVEN and the DOCTOR stay standing. ODYSSEUS bellows...)

ODYSSEUS: Sit down!

(They do, rather quickly, on a rock.)

ODYSSEUS: (Angrily.) In my life I have travelled far, and met many deplorable people.

(He bends menacingly over a nervous DOCTOR.)

ODYSSEUS: But not one of them has had the credulity...strained as I have strained today by your...effrontery, Doctor! Your story is probably true, otherwise you would never have dared to tell it. Stand up!

(He laughs as they do so without hesitating.)

ODYSSEUS: I propose to release you.

(STEVEN turns to the DOCTOR.)

STEVEN: We might have expect...

(He realises what he's just heard.)

STEVEN: (Smiles.) That's very nice of you!
DOCTOR: Yes, indeed.
ODYSSEUS: No, no it isn't. Released, but upon certain conditions.
DOCTOR: And what are those conditions, may I ask, hmm?
ODYSSEUS: That you use your supernatural knowledge to devise a scheme whereby we capture Troy. I will give you two days. Two days to think of something really ingenious.
DOCTOR: Two days! That isn't very long, is it, hmm?
ODYSSEUS: It should be ample if you are as clever as you say you are.
STEVEN: What happens if we fail?
ODYSSEUS: If...I fail, then I shall have been foolish. And I would hate to seem foolish having believed your story. Indeed I should be very, very angry!

(His voice rising, ODYSSEUS whirls his sword, as if preparing to sever STEVEN'S neck from his shoulders, then brings it down in a savage arc, neatly cutting the travellers' bonds.)


(The TARDIS is now surrounded by a pile of branches. A priestess pours oil over them and guards stand by with burning torches. PRIAM, PARIS and CASSANDRA look on.)

PRIAM: That should make quite a blaze.
PARIS: Yes - just one moment. Erm, before we actually light the fire, shouldn't we see if such a gift would be acceptable to the gods? I mean, if it does contain treachery, might it not mean the most awful incident?
PRIAM: Oh, point I suppose. Have a word with them, Cassandra.
CASSANDRA: I assure you it's quite unnecessary.
PARIS: (Whispers.) Yes, but it's better to be on the safe side, don't you think?

(CASSANDRA raises her head and hands to the heavens and speaks dramatically.)

CASSANDRA: Oh hear me, horses of the heavens, who gallop with our destiny! If you would accept this gift, let us see a sign! Show us your will, I pray you, for we are merely mortal and need your guidance!

(To cries and gasps of general astonishment, the doors of the TARDIS open, and VICKI chooses the perfect moment to make an appearance. She is dressed in an elegant ancient-style gown, and smiles disarmingly as she emerges from the TARDIS.)

PARIS: Well! This is no horse of heaven.
PRIAM: And this is no soldier either.
CASSANDRA: Who are you?
VICKI: I'm nobody of any importance. I'm just someone from...the future.
PARIS: The future?
CASSANDRA: How do you so? You're no Trojan goddess. Are you some puny pagan goddess of the Greeks?
VICKI: Of course not, I'm as human as you are!
CASSANDRA: Then how comes it that you claim to know the future?
PARIS: Oh really, Cassandra, you're always going on and on about it yourself!
CASSANDRA: I'm a priestess, skilled in augury.
PARIS: Yes, I know, all those dreary flights of birds and entrails and all that kind of thing - well I mean, perhaps she's read the same ones! I shouldn't imagine you have a monopoly.

(CASSANDRA tries to ignore him, and turns back to VICKI.)

CASSANDRA: Are you a priestess?
VICKI: (Nervously.) Not that I know of. I mean, I never took any exams or anything.
CASSANDRA: (Hisses fiercely.) Then how dare you practice prophecy!
VICKI: Well, I haven't done yet, have I?

(CASSANDRA had forgotten this minor detail, and takes a moment to think of some other objection to bring up.)

CASSANDRA: She's some drab of Agamemnon's, sent to spread dissention.
VICKI: (Shouts indignantly.) I'm nothing of the sort!
PARIS: Of course you're not. I can tell.
VICKI: I've never even met Agamemnon.
PRIAM: I wish to question her. Come here, child.

(VICKI hesitantly walks over to the old king, who puts a fatherly hand on her shoulder.)

PRIAM: That's better. Now - are you a Greek?
VICKI: No, I...I am from the future. So you see, I don't have to prophesy, because as far as I'm concerned, the future...has already happened!
PRIAM: I don't quite follow.
CASSANDRA: Of course you don't - she's trying to confuse you! Kill the girl before she addles all our wits. She's a sorceress, she must die.
PARIS: Oh, don't be absurd! You're not to touch her.
PRIAM: I wish you'd both keep quiet just for a moment.

(He turns to reassure VICKI.)

PRIAM: Now don't be frightened, child - you shall die when I say so, and not a moment before.
VICKI: That's very comforting!

(He turns to his two children.)

PRIAM: Now, you see? Neither of you has the least idea how to handle children. All you need is a little kindness and understanding. (To VICKI.) Now first of all, what is your name?
VICKI: Vicki.
PRIAM: Vicki? That's a very outlandish name.
CASSANDRA: It's a heathen sort of name, if you ask me.
PRIAM: Nobody did ask you, Cassandra. (To VICKI.) Well, I really don't think we can call you Vicki. We shall have to think another one for you, shan't we? Let me see, how about, er, er...Cressida! Would you think that would be all right?
VICKI: It's a...very pretty name.
PRIAM: Very well, then, Cressida it shall be. Now you claim, Cressida, to come from the future?
PRIAM: So you know everything that's going to happen.
VICKI: Well, I...
PRIAM: Look, Cressida. Come into the palace. I expect you could do with something to eat.
VICKI: Oh thank you, that would be very nice!
PARIS: (Warmly.) Ah, that's a very good idea, I've not eaten since the...
PRIAM: You get back to the war! If you've not killed Achilles by nightfall, I shall be seriously displeased.
PARIS: But look, father, why couldn't Troilus go? I mean, it's much more his sort of thing.
PRIAM: Hector is... Don't argue, Paris! Get back to the war!
PARIS: (Sulkily.) Right.

(He turns awkwardly to VICKI.)

PARIS: Well, er, bye, Cressida. We shall, er... meet again this evening... all being well.
VICKI: Goodbye, Paris. Thank you very much for trying to help me.

(PARIS suddenly regains his confidence.)

PARIS: Oh, not at all, it was a great...

(He sees a warning glance from PRIAM.)

PARIS: ...pleasure.

(PARIS troops off.)

PRIAM: Come, Cressida. You and I have a great deal to say to each other. I have a feeling you are going to bring us luck.
CASSANDRA: She will bring nothing but doom, death and disaster!
PRIAM: Don't pay any attention to Cassandra, she takes the gloomiest view. I suspect it's a kind of insurance, so that if things do go wrong she can always say "I told you so." Come along.

(He leads VICKI towards the palace. As they go, CASSANDRA mutters under her breath.)

CASSANDRA: Hear me, gods of Troy. Strike with your lightning this usurper. Or show me a sign that she is false, and then I'll strike her down myself!


(The DOCTOR and STEVEN have been taken back to the Greek camp and, inside a tent, they sit around a table, discussing plans for the capture of the city.)

STEVEN: Why not the wooden horse?
DOCTOR: Oh! My dear boy, I couldn't possibly suggest that. The whole story is obviously absurd. Probably invented by Homer as some good dramatic device. No, I think it'd be completely impractical.
STEVEN: Yes, well if you say so, Doctor, but in that case hurry up and think of something else. The only way we can rescue Vicki is to get into Troy. We've only got two days left!
DOCTOR: Oh, patience, my...

(He is interrupted as ODYSSEUS strides in.)

ODYSSEUS: Rather less now. Haven't you thought of anything yet?
DOCTOR: Yes, well I have thought up of some conditions of my own.
ODYSSEUS: Oh, really - I don't see how you're going to enforce them, but what are they?
DOCTOR: Well, it's all very simple, er, that is, if you want me to help you sack the city, you must, er, promise me that Vicki will be spared.
ODYSSEUS: Vicki? Who's she?
STEVEN: Oh, you know, I told you about her. Look, if they have taken the time machine into Troy, then she'll still be inside it.
ODYSSEUS: I hope she is, for sh...her sake! Because if she left it, she's past worrying about now.
DOCTOR: Well, we're not quite sure of that, are we?
ODYSSEUS: Perhaps not, but I don't know what you expect me to do about it. When we enter Troy, I can't stop every woman and ask her if she's a friend of yours! It wouldn't be practical.

(A MESSENGER bursts into the tent.)

MESSENGER: Lord Odysseus?
ODYSSEUS: (Annoyed.) Yes, what is it?
MESSENGER: Prince Paris has called again for my Lord Achilles.
MESSENGER: Our Lord Agamemnon asked that you go in his stead.
ODYSSEUS: To fight that fool?
ODYSSEUS: That puny princeling cannot fight - a waste of time! Go tell our Lord Agamemnon...if he wants someone to fight Achilles' battles, to go himself. Now get out!

(The terrified MESSENGER leaves, rapidly.)

STEVEN: Is Paris such a bad fighter?
ODYSSEUS: (Laughs.) The weakling cannot stomach killing!

(STEVEN has an idea...)

STEVEN: Let me go to Troy. Now - before you attack.
ODYSSEUS: What's that?
STEVEN: To get Vicki. After all, I'm no use here. I'm sure the Doctor can manage very well without me.
DOCTOR: My dear boy, are you quite sure? Mmm?
STEVEN: Look, it's perfectly simple. I allow Paris to take me prisoner!
ODYSSEUS: (Laughs.) You really are most anxious to die. They will take you for a spy, as we did.
STEVEN: Not if I were wearing a uniform. I'd be a prisoner of war.
ODYSSEUS: Oh, I don't know what they're doing with their prisoners of war at the moment. It rather depends on how they're feeling at the time, I imagine. They're a very unpredictable lot, these Trojans!
STEVEN: Well I'm prepared to take the risk if you're prepared to let me go.
ODYSSEUS: (Impressed.) Really, that's very courageous of you.
STEVEN: Then you'll help me?
ODYSSEUS: I don't see why not, because as you said, you're of little particular use here.
STEVEN: What about a uniform?
ODYSSEUS: Ah, let me see...Ah! Last week, my friend Diomede died from his wounds in this camp. Now, you're about his size. You'll find his things in the next tent.
STEVEN: Thank you, Odysseus.
ODYSSEUS: Ah, you really are a very brave man indeed. I should have been most distressed to have had to put you to death myself!
STEVEN: A very consoling thought.

(ODYSSEUS laughs.)

STEVEN: I'll see you both before I go.

(He leaves the tent.)

ODYSSEUS: Now then, Doctor, to work! I hope you're not going to disappoint me.
DOCTOR: I sincerely hope not. Have you, er, thought of tunnelling, hmm?
ODYSSEUS: It's been done. What we want is something revolutionary.
DOCTOR: Ah yes, dear me, dear me. Well tell me, er, have you thought about...flying machines, hmm?

(He gives a short laugh.)

ODYSSEUS: No, I can't say I have...


(PARIS parades on the plain outside the city, calling ACHILLES' name.)

PARIS: Achilles!

(He shushes himself and "shouts" more quietly, as if afraid he may actually be heard.)

PARIS: Achilles! Come out and fight, you jackal! Paris, prince of Troy, brother of Hector, seeks revenge. Do you not dare to face me?

(He is taken aback as STEVEN, dressed in full Greek armour, appears behind him.)

STEVEN: I dare to face you, Paris! Turn and draw your sword!

(PARIS looks at STEVEN, then laughs in relief.)

PARIS: Ah...ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! No, you're not Achilles...are you?
STEVEN: I am Diomede, friend of Odysseus.
PARIS: (Reasonably.) Oh, Diomede - I do not want your blood! Oh ho, it's Achilles I seek.
STEVEN: And must my Lord Achilles be roused to undertake your death, adulterer?

(PARIS won't be drawn by this insult.)

PARIS: Yes. Well, I'm prepared to overlook that for the moment. I assure you I have no quarrel with you.
STEVEN: I'm Greek - you're Trojan. Is not that quarrel enough?

(PARIS whispers conspiratorially.)

PARIS: Yes, well personally, I think this whole business has been carried just a little bit too far. I mean, that...Helen thing was just a misunderstanding.
STEVEN: Which I now propose to resolve. Draw your sword.

(Reluctantly, PARIS does so, slowly.)

PARIS: Right - well, you'll be sorry for this, I promise you!

(They clash swords. Despite PARIS'S reticence, he is not unskilled with the sword, and the untrained STEVEN is no match for his heavy blows. STEVEN holds the Trojan off for a little while, trading blow for blow, then pretends to stumble under a particularly heavy swipe. He drops to the ground on one knee, and PARIS raises his sword to deal the death blow.)

PARIS: Now die, Greek - and tell them in Hades that Paris sent you thither!
STEVEN: I yield!

(PARIS stops and blinks.)

PARIS: I beg your pardon?
STEVEN: I yield. I...I'm your prisoner.
PARIS: Well I say, this sort of thing is just not done! I mean, surely you'd rather die than be taken prisoner?
STEVEN: Well yes, but...but only in a general sort of way, you see. You see, when I first challenged you, little did I know that you were indeed the Lion of Troy!

(PARIS is momentarily speechless at this.)

PARIS: Yes, I...
STEVEN: I should have listened to my friends.
PARIS: Why, what do they say?
STEVEN: Why, that they would rather face Prince Hector and Troilus together than the mighty Paris! That you are unconquerable!
PARIS: Really? (Laughs.) They don't say that in Troy.
STEVEN: Oh, I could tell them a tale or two of your valour that...that would make even King Priam blanch to hear.
PARIS: I say! Could you really?
STEVEN: Yes, and will! Why, I hope my Lord Achilles does not meet you. Even now he searches the plain for you, and what indeed would happen to our cause if he were vanquished?

(PARIS takes the hint.)

PARIS: Well, I don't really see how I can oblige him if I have a prisoner. I mean, there will come a day of reckoning, of course, but, ah...well, for the moment - Pick up your sword!

(STEVEN does so.)

PARIS: Now, I suppose I shall, er, have to drive you like a Grecian cur into the city, won't I? Er, excuse me a moment...

(He turns and bellows in the direction of the Greek camp.)

PARIS: Farewell, Achilles! For today, Paris of Troy has other business!

(He turns back to STEVEN.)

PARIS: Come, dog!

(STEVEN points out PARIS'S sword, which is lying on the ground at his feet.)

PARIS: Oh yes.

(He picks it up and escorts STEVEN back to Troy. After they have gone, CYCLOPS comes out of hiding, having witnessed the incident...)


(VICKI and PRIAM are finishing dinner in the sumptuous palace dining hall. She drinks out of a goblet and puts it down with a sigh of pleasure.)

VICKI: Oh thank you, that was delicious.
PRIAM: You're sure you wouldn't like a little more breast of peacock?
VICKI: Oh no, thank you, I couldn't eat another mouthful! How on earth do you manage to live like this when you're under siege?
PRIAM: My nephew Aeneas brings us a little something from time to time. He's in command of our mobile force. Spends most of his time harrying the Greek supply routes with his cavalry.
VICKI: I didn't know cavalry was invented yet?
PRIAM: (Laughs.) Oh, bless my soul, yes. We are basically horsemen. Our ancestors came from central Asia, found this strategic position and chose to fortify it. We only need now to beat the Greeks a few score more horses.
VICKI: You seem very fond of horses.
PRIAM: Fond of them - I should think we are. We worship them. A Trojan would do anything for a horse.

(VICKI pauses, then speaks in a quiet, serious voice.)

VICKI: Funny you should say that.
PRIAM: Funny, why? What do you mean?
VICKI: Well... it's nothing, it's just a story I heard a long time ago.
PRIAM: A story about this war?
VICKI: Well yes...but it's nothing. I'm sure it's just a...a legend?
PRIAM: What sort of a legend? Cressida - I'm relying on you to tell us everything you remember. The smallest thing may be of importance.
VICKI: Yes...

(VICKI quickly changes the subject.)

VICKI: Prince Troilus, who was here just now, is he your youngest son?
PRIAM: Ah, ah, er, Troilus, er...oh, oh, yes, he's about the same age as you, I suppose. But why do you ask? I though we were supposed to be talking about...

(VICKI interrupts again, ensuring that the subject remains unchanged.)

VICKI: He's, er...very good-looking, isn't he?
PRIAM: Is he? Oh, I...I never noticed myself. I don't particularly notice good looks. Ha, only gets you into trouble. Look at Paris - handsome as the devil, but a complete coward.
VICKI: I thought he was rather nice!
PRIAM: Yes, women generally do - that's what got us all into this trouble. Though of course, you've not met Helen yet, have you?
VICKI: No, I - I'm looking forward to that.
PRIAM: Yes, well, she's - oh well, never mind. If only he'd met a nice, sensible girl like you - I always say it's character that counts, not good looks.

(VICKI is somewhat put out.)

VICKI: Thank you! Kindly!
PRIAM: Oh no, I didn't mean - good heavens, no! I wish you wouldn't keep changing the subject, Cressida! Funny you should say that about Tro...Troilus. I thought he was rather taken with you.

(VICKI is slightly abashed.)

VICKI: Did you really think so?
PRIAM: Well of course I did...I thought we were supposed to be talking about the war. Now don't keep changing the subject! You were saying something about a legend?
VICKI: Was I? Yes...well you see...

(Just at this moment, PARIS comes barging in, strutting like a peacock.)

PARIS: Father, I've captured a Greek!

(Like ACHILLES before him, PARIS is to be disappointed by the reaction.)

PRIAM: Paris, when will you learn to stop bursting in here when I'm busy?

(PARIS is taken aback.)

PARIS: Oh, well, I...I just thought you might like to question him, that's all.

(CASSANDRA enters the hall but shows little interest in the conversation.)

PRIAM: Well, I may do so in due course, but...
PARIS: (Interrupts eagerly.) Oh good. He's just outside...
PRIAM: Oh, you've not brought him here, into the palace?
PARIS: Oh, don't worry. He's thoroughly calm.
PRIAM: That's not the point!
PARIS: Yes, well now he is here, couldn't I just bring him in?
PRIAM: (Giving in.) Oh, I suppose so.
PARIS: Good!

(He rushes to the door.)

PRIAM: I'm sorry, Cressida, this is utterly unforgivable.

(PARIS clears his throat and calls out through the door.)

PARIS: Here, Diomede!

(He steps back as STEVEN enters.)

PARIS: Come on, step lively now!

(VICKI realises who the captive is, and squeals in surprise.)

VICKI: Steven! What on earth are you...

(STEVEN hisses to her.)

STEVEN: Shh, Vicki!

(VICKI shuts up, but the damage has been done.)

PRIAM: What was that he called her?

(CASSANDRA seizes on the slip-up and strides up to them.)

CASSANDRA: You heard, didn't you? That was the name she called herself when we found her. And she recognised him too. Since he's a Greek, what more proof do you need that she's a spy? Guards!

(Several guards enter. CASSANDRA points imperiously to VICKI and STEVEN.)

CASSANDRA: Kill her! Kill both of them!

(VICKI runs to STEVEN'S arms as the guards close in on them, swords drawn.)

Next Episode

Dr. Who



King Priam







Title music by
with the BBC Radiophonic Workshop

Incidental Music
composed and conducted by

Story Editor



Directed by


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