"Riches?" Now it was McKay's turn to be incredulous. "The place is..." Realizing that Sheppard was giving him a very dangerous look, he wisely chose to shut his mouth.
11 -and you have the audacity to ask what offense you have caused?" Kellec demanded.
"We did not recognize what your Hall of Tribute was, and we have taken nothing from inside." Placating, Teyla moved her P-90 to one side, dropping her aim. "To prove it, we will show you everything we carry. But you will need to release this man's arm." She tipped her head to indicate McKay.
After a brief hesitation, Kellec nodded to Merise. The woman's cool expression did not waver as she flicked her hand to remove her whip from McKay's wrist.
Wincing, McKay flexed his hand a few times before lowering his pack to the ground. "Fine, take a good look. But try not to touch anything unless it's absolutely necessary.
Ronon watched him take each item out of the bag but kept most of his attention on the guards. Two of them hovered behind the scientist, alert for any glimpse of a trinket from their beloved ruins among his possessions.
"We heard a great noise from inside the Hall," Kellec said, less accusing and more cautious than before.
McKay paused in his task, and there actually might have been a trace of embarrassment in his reply. "Yes, about that-we were only trying to operate the transporter. For informational purposes. We didn't do anything that can't be, uh, repaired."
Strangely, the guard leader didn't seem upset that they might have caused damage. Instead, he was looking with fascination at some of the equipment McKay had spread out on the ground. "Like that which the Hall contains, but not the same," he said, half to himself. He raised his eyes to Sheppard. "You have the ability to use the tools of the Ancestors?"
In answer, Sheppard took his life sign detector out of his vest pocket and turned it toward Kellec, displaying the lighted screen. "Not all of us, but some do."
The guards' cool response to his demonstration was unexpected, yet not unwelcome. Ronon had gotten used to witnessing extreme reactions from strangers to the news that the Earth team carried Ancestor blood; everything from near-worship to outright hostility. These people, by contrast, seemed mostly intrigued.
"Then they cannot be Nistra," Merise said quietly to her leader.
"Indeed not. Rather, they are our kindred."
Kindred? Ronon shot Sheppard a questioning glance, which was returned.
Kellec stepped closer to them, but his bearing suggested no threat. "You truly came through the Stargate?"
"That's right," said the Colonel.
They must have done something right, because the whips were put away at last, affixed to the guards' woven belts.
"I am Kellec, chief warrior of the Falnori."
Relaxing a little, Sheppard lowered his weapon, and Ronon followed suit. "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. My team-Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex, and the one freaking out about his gear is Dr. Rodney McKay."
"A pleasure," McKay muttered, refusing to be distracted from gathering his equipment.
"We're explorers," Sheppard continued, "and we're interested in learning about the work that went on here back when the Ancients were around. That's all we wanted-we didn't come to steal anything from you."
A half-truth, Ronon thought; if they hadn't come upon a native populace, they gladly would have taken anything they found of use.
Kellec, however, was preoccupied with something else. "Your trespass in the Hall can be forgiven. But you entered while carrying weapons, and that is a more difficult matter."
"Wonder what the over-under is on how many shrines we mistakenly desecrate this month?" McKay hauled his pack onto his shoulder again.
"I'm not the city bookie," Sheppard replied tightly. Turning to Kellec, he said, "We really apologize for intruding on the Hall. We didn't know it was sacred to your people."
"It is not sacred, at least not in the way you may believe," the chief warrior explained. "The Hall holds great historical significance for us. It is the place where we remember the sacrifices of the Ancestors, made to defend this world against the Wraith so long ago. We do not worship the Hall, but we honor it. One way we do so is by entering only with pure intentions. Weapons of any kind are strictly forbidden on its grounds."
That declaration triggered an understanding for Ronon. "You heard us earlier, but you waited until we came outside to confront us."
With a single nod, Kellec said, "To take any sooner action would have required that we too enter the Hall while armed. Such an endeavor would have been a grave dishonor to each of us and to our houses. Even to prevent the scourge of a raid."
"These raids happen often?" asked Teyla.
Merise's features darkened, and the other warriors adopted expressions that appeared to be carved in stone.
"Too often of late," admitted Kellec. "You must come to the capital. Cestan will no doubt have questions for you, and he will be able to tell you better of the menace wrought by the Nistra."
It hadn't been presented as an ultimatum, but they were still in some trouble for the weapons gaffe, so a refusal seemed like a bad idea. Besides, if they were going to have any chance at getting back inside the ruined laboratory, they'd have to, as the Earth natives often said, work and play well with others.
Sheppard appeared to have come to the same conclusion. "Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "I take it Cestan is your leader?"
"We are citizens of Falnor, and Cestan is our governor." Kellec held out a hand, motioning in the direction of the forest. "It is not a long journey. We will arrive before the sun begins to leave its peak."
A skyward glance told Ronon that the sun was nearly overhead already.
The group set off toward the woods and soon came across a reasonably well-traveled path, the Atlantis team bracketed at the front and rear by the Falnori warriors. The canopy of trees soon swallowed most of the sunlight, giving the trek a desolate feel. Ronon's senses remained sharp, primed to detect any unexpected sound or motion. The warriors might have decided to trust them, but only up to a point. He saw no reason to do any differently.
"So there's a native populace around here," Sheppard began conversationally, keeping his voice low and his expression placid. None of the Falnori paid him any additional attention. "That would've been good to know."
"Don't look at me," McKay said, instantly defensive. "The scanner has a limited range, and I told you multiple times that it was acting up. The energy source in the facility registers oddly on what I'd call standard Ancient equipment-it must have interfered with life-sign detection. Whatever work went on here, it must have been a pretty highly regarded project. Usually the first requirement for new technology is for it to be compatible with everything that already exists."
"These people recognized the significance of the gene," Teyla observed, "and called you `kindred'. Might they have the blood of the Ancestors as well?"
"If they're descendants of the facility's workers, I don't see why not. At one time there were a large number of both Ancient researchers and human aides living here. It's possible that this society's incidence of the gene is comparable to that of Earth." McKay's lips curved in a wry smirk. "Dating one's lab assistant, apparently, is a universal practice."
"And these Nistra they hate so much?" Ronon asked.
Sheppard shrugged. "Don't know, but I'm thinking they don't sound like folks we want to invite over for din„ ner.
"How would you estimate our chances of getting this Cestan guy to let us take another look around the ruins?" McKay wanted to know, his strides lengthening to keep up with his teammates.
"Once again, Rodney: I'm not your bookie. But we're sure as hell going to do our best to sell him on the idea." The Colonel scanned the trees around them, a subtle visual sweep that likely went unnoticed by everyone except Ronon.
"It is possible that the Falnori have set the transporter to respond only to them," said Teyla.
McKay shook his head. "Not likely, even assuming that some of them do hav
e the gene. If their level of technological sophistication was that high, wouldn't they have devised something with a little more kick than those whips?"
Watching the Falnori ahead of him, moving with assurance and vigilance, Ronon said, "Maybe they have, and we just haven't seen it yet."
The idea seemed to set McKay back a step. "I'm honestly not sure whether I should be fascinated or frightened by that concept."
"There's got to be something worth a second look around here. Otherwise there'd be no reason for anyone to stage raids." Abruptly, a faint smile passed across Sheppard's face.
McKay frowned, suspicious. "What was that about?"
Sheppard's eyes glinted with amusement. "I was just thinking... So far on this mission, we've got raiders and we've got whips. All I need now is a fedora."
"Oh, good God." After giving the Colonel his most long-suffering look, McKay walked ahead. "The fact that I'm expected to obey the leadership of an overgrown teenager with a rank is perpetually mind-boggling to me.
"It's a rough life, isn't it, Rodney?" Sheppard turned in the scientist's direction as he spoke, but Ronon could tell he was sweeping the area again. For all his jokes and casual demeanor, the man's tactical instincts were wellhoned. Ronon's military service on his home world had been cut short, but he'd been a soldier long enough to recognize both good commanders and bad ones. He appreciated following someone whose abilities in the field he'd never had cause to doubt.
So far everyone seemed to be relatively calm and con tent on this walk, but he was fully aware of how quickly that could change. They knew very little about these Falnori yet, and often the unknown turned out to be the most formidable enemy of all.
CHAPTER FOUR
s it turned out, they didn't have to walk the whole way. Good thing, because the capital wasn't exactly right around the corner. Once they'd hiked for the better part of an hour, the forest thinned out, giving way to gently rolling hills covered in some kind of grain. There was no city yet in sight, even after John fished out his binoculars again.
When Rodney emerged from the trees and arrived at the same conclusion, he visibly deflated. "We really need to come to a consensus on what does and does not constitute a `long journey,"' he grumbled.
Before John could think of a polite way to ask Kellec how they expected to reach this supposed capital by midday, they came upon a well-built wooden carriage, easily big enough for the entire group. Like an old Conestoga wagon, but without a canvas top, it was harnessed to an animal that resembled an oversized Clydesdale horse-if horses ever sat upright on their haunches. John was pretty sure they didn't.
"They are swift and obedient, but many of them do not like the woods," Kellec explained, running his fingers down the animal's flank. "This one is quick to startle, so it was easier to complete the forest trail on foot."
Quieter, too, John thought, which had probably factored into the decision.
Upon seeing the wagon, Rodney's displeasure grew, at least in volume. "Oh, this'll be comfortable."
"You want to keep walking, Rodney, be my guest." John grasped the side rail and swung himself up into the wagon. Taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the interior, he twisted around to offer Teyla a hand, only to find that she'd already climbed aboard, with far more grace than he'd shown.
Ronon boosted Rodney up and then hauled himself over the side. The warriors seemed awfully agile, clambering into the wagon like circus gymnasts and taking positions along the benches. One went to the front and gathered up the reins, giving them a decisive tug.
The animal promptly plopped its forelegs down on the ground and took off at a rapid pace. Immediately John abandoned any effort to compare the beast to a horse. Its gait was more like that of a rabbit, bounding forward on both forelegs at once and then moving both its massive hind legs to catchup. It was fast, but a little on the bouncy side.
"Just for the record, my spine is being traumatized," Rodney informed his teammates in a low but distinctly unhappy voice.
Sympathizing with his scientist was even lower on John's to-do list than usual. "Try serving as the crash mat for one of your teammates and see how your spine likes that."
"I said I was sorry, didn't I?"
The scenery flew past, the fields of wild grain soon replaced by rows of green plants that might have been vegetables. It was clear that these areas had been deliberately planted. Civilization couldn't be too far away.
John grimaced when the wagon hit a particularly unforgiving bump and looked over at Merise, sitting across from him. "Your people do a lot of farming?"
"Crops fare well here," she replied, pushing windblown strands of coffee-colored hair back from her face. "We grow what we need for ourselves and for trade."
"Do you trade with neighboring peoples," Teyla inquired, "or with other worlds?"
"We have a long-standing trade agreement with the Nistra."
Huh. Something about that didn't add up.
The skepticism in Ronon's voice was obvious. "The people who raid your place of honor? You trade with them?"
The Falnori woman's expression was hard to decipher. John spotted frustration, for a start, but also resignation. "Our history is complex. Governor Cestan will be able to explain."
Before long, a cluster of structures rose out of the fields on the horizon. As the wagon drew closer, John tried to gauge the city's size. It wasn't a New York or Los Angeles, but it wasn't a one-stoplight town, either. More like a decent-sized suburb, maybe. Most of the buildings looked to be only one or two stories high, though one dominated the settlement, covering an area the size of an Earth city block and looming three or four stories above the others. The capital, he guessed.
Everything appeared to be built out of wood with the occasional piece of stone. Probably not all that recently, either. The construction was antiquated by Earth standards; most likely there weren't any power tools stashed away in anyone's sheds around here. Still, it all looked sturdy, and almost graceful. When they neared one of the perimeter buildings, John could see a fairly elaborate design carved into the slats that formed its roof He'd never been much of a student of architecture, but the amount of time such a purely aesthetic detail must have taken to complete suggested that these people took their craftsmanship seriously.
The wagon slowed as it entered the city, and the packed dirt of the main street instantly felt more forgiving under the wheels than the rougher rural path had. A few other, smaller wagons traveled the street, and people milled around, going about their business with hardly a glance toward the group of warriors and visitors. Most of the foot traffic came and went from a series of small, connected buildings that might have been a marketplace. A little girl skipped happily along a stone sidewalk and was helped up by a tolerant adult when she stumbled.
Wardrobes were mostly simple, tunics and robes and the like. Some townspeople were livelier than others, but no one seemed too poor or undernourished. If the ATA gene was present and recognized here, were these the `haves' or the `have-nots'? Or did they draw no distinction between the two?
Set in the city center, the capital didn't look all that different from the surrounding structures, size notwithstanding. The same perfectly aligned beams-just a lot more of them. Their clean, elegant lines reminded John of a long-ago assignment in the Far East.
After the wagon came to a halt beside the sprawling capital, the warriors disembarked, and the Atlantis team followed their lead. John reached out to grab the back of Rodney's vest when the scientist performed a less than flawless dismount.
"I will inform Cestan of your presence," said Kellec, with a slight bow of his head. "In the meantime, Merise will show you to the training field. Our warrior apprentices are working on an exercise which you may find interesting."
The chief warrior vanished into the capital through a set of double doors, leaving John and his team to look to Merise for direction. The earlier drama at the Hall of Tribute came to mind. They weren't going to just waltz into the seat of leade
rship without so much as a question about their weapons, were they?
She made no attempt to disarm them, though. Instead, offering only a "follow me," she led them up a stone walkway to another entrance. Once inside, John was again impressed by the level of detail in the decor, from the carved patterns along the walls to the woven mats on the floors. As they walked, some of the warriors left the group, until only two remained to share guide duty with Merise.
"Kellec mentioned the training field," Ronon said. "Is this place the headquarters of your military as well as your government?"
Judging by her expression, Merise didn't quite understand the question. "Governor Cestan is here, and the warriors serve the governor. What use would we be were we elsewhere?"
"So you all live and train here, in this capital building?" John asked.
He received a nod in reply. "Is it different for your people?"
Come to think of it, it wasn't, at least not on Atlantis.
Two flights of stairs and another door led them onto a long balcony overlooking an open courtyard in the middle of the complex. On a neatly-trimmed grass field that could have stood in for any parade ground John had ever seen, about two dozen men and women worked with whips. They completed a prescribed set of motions in perfect sync, similar to the way Teyla began her staff-fighting classes.
"How very lion-tamer Zen," Rodney observed, already sounding impatient. "How long is your governor likely to be? Because we-"
"Cool it, Rodney," John cut him off, giving Merise an apologetic look. "I take it these are new recruits?"
The Falnori showed no reaction to either John's attempt at tact or Rodney's lack thereof. "They are soldiers who have proven their ability and loyalty, and therefore have been selected to become warriors. Few are chosen for such a high honor."
So the whip-wielders they'd met were the elite troops. John wondered what kinds of weapons the rank and file carried.
"Ali." The first glimmer of a smile graced Merise's features as she looked over the railing. "They are about to begin."
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