Complete
Drama
FR-T
Set
c.1912-1914
Disclaimers:
Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, The SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is written purely for my own entertainment, and that of anyone else who may happen to read it. No infringement of copyright is intended. It is not intended and should never be used for commercial purposes.
The original characters, situations and ideas contained within this work are the property of the author.Author's Notes:
The Chulakan week is nine days long, in a lunar month of thirty-six days. The solar year is three-hundred and eighty-one and a half days, the lunar year contains twelve months, and so is considerably longer than the solar. The 'years' by which Jaffa measure their age are their only standardised time units, and conform to the Egyptian year of three-hundred and sixty-four days. It has no leap year, and so the date of a Jaffa's 'birthday' creeps even according to the Tau'ri reckoning. On Chulak – as on most Jaffa home worlds – this unit is all but meaningless, which is one of the reasons why Jaffa do not celebrate the day of their birth.
The Morning Chamka Groves are so known because, for most of the year, the first light of day, shining through the cleft of Apophis' Tongue, falls directly upon the groves. The midsummer festival on Chulak is held on the day when the sun rises in the precise centre of the cleft. This creates an incredible optical effect, where briefly the mountains appear to be on fire, and long ago Apophis placed a device in the cleft so that a great, hooded serpent blots out the rising sun, leaving only the burning mountainsides to light the chamka groves. It is another eccentricity of Jaffa timekeeping that this event, although occurring at a regular point in the Chulakan solar cycle, does not fall on the same date each year. By assiduously following a lunar calendar, the Jaffa year gradually creeps; this is why the main festivals in Jaffa religious life revolve around cyclical solar, lunar and stellar phenomena, instead of a precise calendrical date. The same was true of Ancient Egyptian festivals.
Gleb'dra id the Jaffa rendering of clepsydra, meaning water-thief; the ancient Greco-Egyptian word for a water clock.
Acknowledgements:
Thanks as ever to my beta reader. The Sho must go on!
Chulak
1912 (Tau'ri reckoning)
The city of Chulak, the single great settlement on the world of the same name, was roughly divided into three districts. The temple district was open and pleasant, set amid greens and copses. It formed a rough circle about a mile in diameter, centred on the great temple and palace of Apophis, where the prim'ta were housed and where the God's vassals would gather to choose hosts for their children. It held the houses of the great and the good – high priests, and favoured members of the Serpent Guard – and stood some distance apart from the rest of the city.
The second part was the urban district; the city proper. This was home to the majority of the Jaffa, including the barracks; a squat, slate-walled building that housed the bulk of the Serpent Guard, and a brigade of Apophis' lesser warriors. Finally there were the camps of the kresh'ta; the scattered collections of rough dwellings where the outcast Jaffa scraped a living from the waste of the city. Only the desperate made their home here, for although to be near to the God was to bask in his glory, the occupants of the camps were despised more even than those who lived in the open country and turned the soil to feed Apophis' armies.
The camps sprang up without planning, a ramshackle maze of tents, shacks and lean-to hovels. The narrow lanes thus formed were cluttered with stalls and barrows from which the kresh'ta sold cheap, crudely-fashioned goods, foodstuffs grown on small allotments in the filth ejected from the city's sewers, and an array of stolen goods. Killers for hire – disgraced or crippled warriors for the most part – lurked in the shadows. Doorways were covered by ragged curtains, and a few of these were pinned back, either advertising the services of the prostitutes who lived within, or luring the unwary into the clutches of footpad and cutthroats. Children ran to and fro, undisciplined and unsupervised.
The camps were without law, save for that imposed by organised gangs, and the occasional sweep by Jaffa warriors from the city. The latter cared little for local troubles, but the children of respectable Jaffa sometimes came to the fringe markets, and young warriors might visit the camps in search of contraband goods or sexual favours, and the patrols would not allow these individuals to come to harm.
The fringe markets were the interface between the camps and the urban district, and here traders from both sides would come to try and remove the money from the other in exchange for as little as possible. The kresh'ta also traded among themselves here, and here the best of the outcasts' goods – and especially the pick of their home-grown vegetables – were to be found. If a kresh'ta somehow managed to find a little money, they might come to the fringe markets to buy a little something special for their evening meal.
A kresh'ta boy made his way through the markets with a swift pace, clutching a canvas bag to his chest. He was a frequent visitor to the markets, twelve years old and in good shape for an outcast. He seemed able to find money regularly enough that many suspected he would scrape together enough to apprentice himself to a warrior when he was old enough for the prim'ta, and thus escape the camps forever. He had a name, but few people used it. Those who did not know him called him 'boy'; those who did had a name that was far less kind.
"Cron'la-shak!"
The boy ignored the call, refusing to turn and acknowledge the name.
Another boy, better dressed and a few years older, well-fed but still lighter than the muscular Cron'la-shak, leaped out in front of him.
"Hey, Cron'la-shak!" The boy crowed. "Do not ignore your betters."
"I would not do so," Cron'la-shak assured him.
The older boy looked puzzled for a moment, then realised that he had been insulted. He lunged angrily at the outcast, who sidestepped the rush and tripped him onto his face. Another youth tried to jump Cron'la-shak from behind, but the outcast dropped his bag and threw the attacker over his shoulder.
"Not bad for a little kresh'ta whelp," a voice taunted.
Cron'la-shak turned to face his chief tormentor, Jor'lac of the Black Lane. The son of a Serpent Guard and grandson of Apophis' First Prime, the boy considered himself to be a cut above his playmates, and far beyond the level of an outcast. He had all of the status symbols of arrogant Chulakan youth, from a tunic cut in the fashion of Jaffa armour to a skinny girl in a cheap dress who clung to his waist. The girl was a kresh'ta whore, dressed up and kept on retainer to boost Jor'lac's ego. She was seventeen, and would have borne a prim'ta had her family held any status at all. Without the protection of a symbiote she was lucky to have lasted as long as she had in the camps, but if she could husband enough money from Jor'lac's patronage – and persuade him to vouch for her worth at the temple – then she could pay for the ceremony of implantation herself.
Cron'la-shak was a little bit different from the other outcasts. He had clashed with Jor'lac on three occasions, and he had bettered the older child in two of the three meetings. Now things were different however; now Jor'lac was a Jaffa.
"I have been looking forward to meeting you again," Jor'lac sneered, pushing his doxy away.
"You must be in love with defeat then," Cron'la-shak replied, boldly.
Jor'lac snarled in anger, and lashed out. The outcast slammed a punch into his side, but the young Jaffa just laughed as his victim clutched his fist in pain. Then he swung a lazy cross, and drove Cron'la-shak off his feet into the mud. He took a swaggering step forward, but the outcast hurled a lump of mud into Jor'lac's eyes, and came back to his feet as the Jaffa clawed the sticky mass out of his face.
Enraged, Jor'lac came on fast, blocking a punch and hitting Cron'la-shak hard enough to send him tumbling backwards. The outcast stumbled up, and fled.
Jor'lac's cronies laughed out loud.
"Run, whelp!" Jor'lac scoffed. He held up his wallet and rattled the coins within. "Maybe I should pay a call on your mother some day," he called, raising another laugh from his friends, and a whine of protest from his girl. Then he kicked Cron'la-shak's discarded bag, plucked an apple from the top, and turned away. He held out his arm and the skinny girl scurried over to him, winding herself around him in false adoration. He offered her the apple as he walked away from the scene of his victory, and she kissed him hard in payment.
From behind a stall, dark eyes watched him go, then turned to the path Cron'la-shak had taken.
*
The boy known as Cron'la-shak hurried down the road to his home. He had spent the small sum of money remaining in his wallet on a few morsels of stale food, but had been unable to replace the bolt of cloth and reel of thread that his mother had sent him to buy. They were both in desperate need of new clothes, and the boy keenly felt the weight of his failure. He knew that he could not have stood up to Jor'lac, but maybe if he had stayed and taken a beating he could have limped home with his goods intact. He winced as a pain stabbed through his chest, and he hoped that nothing was broken inside him. Jaffa medicine was crude – so few Jaffa ever needed medical treatment – and so most injuries just had to be left to heal on their own.
When he reached his house – an aged shack that had been propped up half-way to complete collapse – the boy just wanted to crawl into his hard, narrow bed and rest, but that was not to be. The heavy curtain was drawn over the doorway, which meant that his mother was with a customer. He sat down beside the step, noticing that another graffiti had been daubed on the side of the shack: A crude rendering of the raven-mark of Cronus.
The boy winced in pain and clutched his side.
"It looks as if you have cracked a rib. Or rather, as if someone else cracked it for you."
The boy looked up. The sun was in the corner of his eyes as he did so, but he saw a girl standing over him. She had dark-olive skin, and her face was too clean for her to possibly be one of the kresh'ta. Her clothes too gave her away, being too fine and costly for the camps. Her hair was long and dark, her eyes a deep, warm brown. She was about the same age as he, and pretty, and wore a strange expression on her face; an expression he had not really seen in many years.
She was looking at him with undisguised interest; and she was smiling at him.
"Is this yours?" She asked, holding out his bag.
"Yes," the boy snapped, snatching it away from her. "Thank you," he added, in an ungracious mumble.
"What is your name?"
"Cron'la-shak," he replied.
"Raven's Whelp? Well, somebody took against you early."
"They call me that because my mother bears the mark of Cronus on her brow," the boy snarled.
The girl nodded. "It does not suit you," she said. "What does your mother call you?"
"Teal'c," Teal'c replied.
The girl smiled. "Now that suits," she said. She reached into a pocket and brought out a small vial. "Rub this salve on your wounds; it shall help them to heal. Then come alone to the Morning Chamka Groves at sunrise, ten days from now."
"Why?" Teal'c asked, suspiciously.
"In ten days you will be healed, and I want to see how strong you really are."
"This is a trick," he accused.
"No trick," she promised. "My word to the Gods and all my ancestors." When he still looked suspicious, she smiled at him again; that was more times than any woman had smiled at him in the last seven years. "Think about it," she suggested. "If you decide to come...well, we'll see."
The girl turned and left, moving through the outcasts with an unfeigned confidence that parted the crowds before her, and left stares following her in her wake. Teal'c blinked, feeling somewhat stunned. In all his life, he did not think that he had ever met anyone quite like...whatever her name was.
The curtain in the doorway was dragged aside, and a tall Jaffa stepped out, a low hood covering his brow. "Until next week, Cron'la-has," he called back, a nasty leer in his voice to match the one on his face. Cron'la-has was what the Chulakans called Ry'auc: Raven's Bitch.
"Out of my way," the Jaffa snapped, aiming a kick at Teal'c.
As he scurried out of reach, Teal'c saw under the man's hood for a moment, and caught a glimpse of the silver 'X' tattoo of a priest. Then the man was walking away, and the boy pushed past the curtain into the house.
"I am closed for the day!" Ry'auc called from the curtained alcove where she plied her trade. Ashamed of the work she had been forced to take after her exile, she slept in the opposite arras, on a palette bed next to her son's. The hovel had a small stove, a rickety table, one chair and one stool, but it was better than many of the dispossessed had. A handful of coins had been scattered on the floor of the main room and left lying there. Still proud, Ry'auc would never go down on her knees to grub for money until after her customer had left.
"It is I, mother," Teal'c called.
"Oh, Teal'c darling; I'm sorry." Ry'auc emerged from the arras, rearranging her tangled hair. She wore a baggy, patched skirt and a third-hand shirt that was too large for her, leaving the ragged dress she wore for business lying empty on the bed, as though it were the whore and she the garment it discarded. The collar of the shirt hung loosely on her shoulders, and Teal'c could see a dark bruise spreading on her shoulder.
Ry'auc looked at her son, and her face creased in worry. "Teal'c! You're hurt!"
"So are you," he replied.
Ry'auc averted her eyes. "Did you get the things we needed?" She asked.
"Yes, mother," Teal'c said, a choking knot of anger clenching in his gut. He hated seeing his mother like this; hated even more knowing that what she did she did to support him. Forcing away the fury that he knew could find no catharsis, he handed the bag to Ry'auc.
"Thank you, Teal'c," she said. "You are my good boy."
Ry'auc's praise brought only sorrow to her son's heart, because no smile accompanied it. She had not smiled since the last day on Elysia, when her husband had raped her, before being dragged away to die.
"What is this?" Ry'auc asked, shocked. "Teal'c?" She looked up from the bag.
Teal'c hung his head. "I...there was a fight," he said. "I dropped the bag. Some things may have been crushed."
"Crushed?" Ry'auc said, baffled. "I meant, what is this?" She took the roll of cloth from the bag, and Teal'c's eyes widened. It was a roll of brown, hard-wearing cloth, like the one he had bought, but of a far greater quality. As Ry'auc continued to unload the bag, Teal'c realised that everything in it had been replaced with something equivalent, but superior, and there was in addition a quantity of shoe leather and hobnails, and several bags of spices. "Teal'c...did you steal these things?" Ry'auc asked.
"I would never steal!" Teal'c insisted.
"But how could you afford this?"
"I left the bag," Teal'c admitted. "It was returned to me."
"This is a trick," Ry'auc said, fearfully. "We will be accused of theft."
"I do not believe so," Teal'c assured her. He was not sure why, but he wanted to trust the brown-eyed girl who had brought back the bag.
"If they find this here we will be hanged," Ry'auc insisted, hastily repacking. "We must get rid of it."
"Mother," Teal'c said, taking hold of her trembling hands. "Think. If someone – someone who could afford this – wanted us hanged, their word would be enough. If we are going to die then, let us die with full stomachs and warm clothes."
Ry'auc stopped what she was doing, and touched Teal'c on the head. "My brave boy," she said. "So young, but so grown-up and wise." Teal'c blushed. "Oh, I have such hopes for you, my darling." Slowly, incredibly, the corners of Ry'auc's mouth crept upwards, and Teal'c felt his heart leap as she gave him a melancholy smile.
"Now pick up the money," she said. "And make up the fire. We shall eat well tonight."
*
Ten days later
Teal'c crept out of bed, being careful not to wake his mother. All week he had been consumed by curiosity; by the need to know who the brown-eyed girl was. He had not seen her around the camps – not that that was much of a surprise – but he had seen her in his dreams, and as he pulled on his new shoes and tightened the laces of his outer tunic against the morning chill her face seemed to dance in front of him. Was she just some rich girl – a friend of Jor'lac's perhaps – playing some elaborate game? If not, what was her interest in a boy from the camps?
When Teal'c had told his mother about the girl, she had told him not to meet her. She was afraid – despite Teal'c's assurance that the girl was no older than he – that the girl wanted to use Teal'c, the way that men used her. Whatever the truth, Teal'c did not believe that. He was glad that he had told his mother he was to meet the girl the morning before this; now she believed that he had broken the engagement, and was not lying awake and waiting for him to try and leave.
Teal'c slipped out of the door, and jogged through the pre-dawn gloom of the camps, then up the hill towards the fringe. It was the rest day, so no-one was about to see him go. Before he reached the market he turned, striking out east across country, up a steep slope to the orchards of the Morning Chamka Groves, one of the most beautiful spots in all of Chulak. He had been there only once before, with his mother, visiting in the spring when the leaves were a deep, luxuriant green. The Groves were not patrolled or guarded, but they were generally considered the preserve of Chulak's more favoured families, and kresh'ta could expect to be run off or beaten for invading their quiet avenues, and so they had not dared to come again.
In the first light of the day, the leaves of the chamka trees, autumn gold, shimmered with dew, and Teal'c felt that this was even more beautiful than they had been before. It almost looked as though the hilltop were on fire. Then the sun showed through the great cleft in the double-headed mountain known as Apophis' tongue, and the light filled the groves, glittering with a thousand colours, and out of the rising dawn light came the girl.
"Incredible is it not?" She asked.
"Is this why you brought me here?" Teal'c asked.
"Sometimes in life when we get what we want, we get so much more besides," she answered, enigmatically. She was dressed in a slate-grey tunic and breeches, with a warm jacket and high boots. A man's clothes, or at least a boy's, although clearly not borrowed, as they fit her as thought tailored.
"Why are you dressed that way?" Teal'c asked.
The girl smiled. "I can not fight in a skirt.," she replied.
"Who do you expect to fight?"
The smile deepened. "I came to fight you," she said.
Teal'c stared at the girl for a long moment, then laughed out loud.
The smile never wavered. "You find something amusing?"
"I can not fight you," Teal'c scoffed.
"Probably not," the girl admitted. "But I promise not hurt you."
Teal'c frowned. His pride had been stung, and suddenly this did not seem funny anymore. "You are a girl. Go home, before you get hurt." He turned to leave.
"You move well," the girl told him. "You are strong and resilient, but you do not let that lull you. You have some basic understanding of balance, and clearly a little training in mastaba, but only a little."
"What do you know of combat?" Teal'c demanded, rounding on the girl, who stood still, smiling at him.
"I know that within a month Jor'lac will know enough to counter every move that you use to topple his cohorts. I know that you know a little staff work but almost no hand fighting. I know that you hesitate before each blow as though it were a formal kata, and that a skilled opponent could read every attack before you knew..."
With a frustrated snarl, Teal'c lunged forward, hands open, thinking to grapple the girl, giving her a taste of a fight and so shutting her up. Instead he tripped on something and fell hard.
"...you were going to make it," the brown-eyed girl finished. Teal'c looked up at her; she was still smiling.
Angry now, Teal'c struggled up and attacked, but like Jor'lac's friends when they fought him, he seemed slow and clumsy compared to the girl, even though she did not move fast.
"Now you are letting your strength deceive you," she said. "You think you will beat me because you are stronger." She sidestepped a punch, letting him stumble by her. He turned to strike her in the back, but she leaned away from the blow and snapped her fist back into his face. "You are wrong."
Teal'c took two stumbling steps back and fell on his rear with a thump. The impact jarred painfully up his spine.
"You are strong though," she noted. "And fast."
Teal'c struggled back to his feet, face flaming with the humiliation of being defeated by a girl.
"Stay away from me!" He hissed, as the girl moved to help him up. "Just stay away." He turned and fled from the groves, leaving the brown-eyed girl standing alone among the red-gold shadows.
*
The next day, Teal'c was cutting wood for another kresh'ta, Cham'dac; a Jaffa who had laid claim to three large allotments, seeded them with grain, and set himself up as a baker. Cham'dac paid Teal'c ten shesh'tis a day to cut wood three days a week, and five shesh'tis a day to stoke the oven in the morning and afternoon, and scrape the ashes out of the grate every evening. He was picking up a handful of split logs and carrying them to the woodpile when he heard the girl's voice behind him.
"I can see why you are so strong," she said.
With an effort of will, Teal'c set the logs down on the pile before turning back towards the girl.
She was hefting the axe in both hands, regarding the curve of its steel blade with a critical eye. Today she wore a long skirt beneath her jacket. "This is a heavy axe," she noted. "You would build up a lot of muscle, but only in one direction."
"Give me the axe," Teal'c instructed, and the girl did so. "What do you mean?" He asked.
"You swing up and down, up and down. You lift and carry too; it is all up and down. Never side to side."
"Strength is strength."
"Is it?" The girl picked up one of the paddles that the baker used to carry loaves to and from the oven. Holding her arms out in front of her, she moved the blade of the paddle in a smooth, flat arc. "Try that," she suggested.
Teal'c did so, moving the axe as she had moved the paddle, and his strong arms wobbled at the unfamiliar action. "What do you want?" He asked, impatiently. "I have work to do."
"So I see," she replied. "But what kind of work is this for a warrior?"
"The best kind," he retorted. "The kind that pays money to buy food for my mother and I."
"My name is Andromeda," the girl said.
Teal'c frowned. "That is not a Jaffa name," he told her.
"The name comes from my mother's people," she explained.
"What is your interest in my affairs, girl?" Teal'c asked again, telling himself that he did not care who her mother's people were.
"I see greatness in you, Teal'c," she replied.
"Are your mother's people seers?"
Andromeda smiled. "Actually, yes, but this comes from my father," she said. "You are a warrior, Teal'c; I called you that before and you did not deny it."
Teal'c snorted. "Why should I?"
"Because most of the people in this camp would deny coming from something better," she said. "They will tell you they were born here, even if they were not, because they do not like to remember their fall. But you; you have the courage and pride of a warrior and you do not care who sees it. Why do you think the others pick on you? They hate to see a kresh'ta with greater dignity than they."
"Even if this is true," Teal'c said, bringing the axe down into another log. "Why do you care?"
"I want to train you," she said.
"What?"
"I want to teach you how to fight," she explained.
"What warrior could be taught by a girl," Teal'c sneered.
Andromeda scowled. She moved towards Teal'c, and suddenly he was falling onto his back, and Andromeda was standing over him, the axe in her hands. "I had already beaten you once," she said. "Now I have beaten you again. Must I do so a third time before you will respect my skill?"
"I do not question your skill," Teal'c said. "But a man trained in battle by a woman would never be accepted into the ranks of the Jaffa warriors."
Andromeda sniffed, disdainfully, but held out her hand to help Teal'c up. "My first lesson to you is this," she said. "Know your enemy. Whatever the case in Cronus' domain, Apophis' army contains a small number of warrior women, as does the Serpent Guard. They have to work hard to prove themselves, but having done so they are not looked down upon for their sex." She returned the axe to his hands. "You think it would be unworthy of you to learn from me? How much more unworthy would it be to not learn, because you were too proud?"
"Hey; Cron'la-shak!" Teal'c's heart sank as he looked over Andromeda's shoulder to see Jor'lac swagger towards them. "I was just on my way to pay a visit to your mother."
Andromeda leaned closer to Teal'c and whispered in his ear. He weighed his options for a moment, then said: "You shall have to wait, Jor'lac; your father is with her now."
Jor'lac's cronies stifled their chuckles, and his doxy let slip a single, high-pitched giggle, earning her a solid cuff to the ear. She whimpered softly, then fell silent.
"Leave her alone," Teal'c said, softly.
"Oh, I am sorry," Jor'lac replied. "I should have realised you would be sensitive to the way people treat their whores. I see you found one of your own; are you sure your mother will not be jealous?"
Andromeda turned slowly to face the young Jaffa, and his face fell.
"A-An-Andromeda," he stammered. "I-I..."
"I am buying bread," Andromeda said. "I arrived too early, but I am told that this baker's wares have a particular flavour that the city bakeries can not match, and so I am waiting."
"I...I did not mean..."
"Of course you did." Andromeda stripped off her jacket. "And you will pay for it."
"I shall not fight you," Jor'lac said. "Your father..."
"My father never hears of this," Andromeda replied. "Do you believe I would want him to know I shop in the camps?"
"But you are not dressed for combat."
"Then this must be your lucky day," Andromeda commented. "Now; you have insulted me, as well as this poor boy's mother. You may apologise to us both, or fight me."
Jor'lac's face almost turned blue with the strain, but at last he blurted out: "I am sorry! You are not a whore, and your mother..." he added, turning to Teal'c. "Is a good mother, I am sure."
"The finest," Teal'c assured him.
"You can go now," Andromeda told Jor'lac.
Fuming, the Jaffa turned and stomped away, lashing out at the girl as she tried to come alongside him again.
"And Jor'lac!" Andromeda called after them. He turned to listen, and she said: "Do not take this out on the girl. If you want to settle this, then we can settle it, you and I; any time you choose."
Jor'lac searched for a response, but clearly came up empty. He turned away again, and left as fast as dignity would allow.
"You are insane," Teal'c accused. "You could not hope to defeat a Jaffa."
"Could I not?" Andromeda asked. "Jaffa have strength greater than yours, but it is not enough. Your own strength will grow, especially if you become Jaffa, but it will never be sufficient; not on its own. But I can teach you, Teal'c. Tell me, what do you want?"
"To be the strongest Jaffa of all," Teal'c replied. "To become First Prime of Apophis, and lead his armies against Cronus."
"You have lofty dreams," she said. "But I can help make them come true. Trust in me and I will make you stronger than you ever hoped."
"You gave us good food, and cloth," Teal'c said. "Why?"
Andromeda shrugged. "I have so much; it seemed wrong to give you crushed and spoiled food and poor cloth when it cost me so little to give you better.
"I do not need or want your charity," Teal'c told her.
"I am not offering any."
"So if you teach me, what do you get in return?" Teal'c asked, suspiciously.
"I get a friend," she replied, with disarming honesty. She held out her hand to him. "What do you say?"
Teal'c set down the axe, and grasped Andromeda's arm. "A month," he said. "We shall try this for a month."
*
One year later
Teal'c and Andromeda lay at their ease beside the Bluewater River, high in the hills above the city. A small fire smouldered into ash nearby, and the remains of a few small fishes lay strewn among the embers. Andromeda had caught the fish, lying patiently by the waterside and 'tickling' them out onto the bank, and Teal'c had cleaned and cooked them. While the fish roasted on the fire, they had swum in the cool, clean water of the river. These were good days. Teal'c enjoyed Andromeda's company immensely, and it made him very happy that she chose to spend so much of her time with him.
True to her promise, Andromeda's teaching was making Teal'c a stronger fighter, and at first this success had delighted her. Now though she was growing melancholy, and he was reminded of his first teacher, Kal'rhe, whose smiling face had lost its cheer under his father's harsh regime.
"Tell me what troubles you, my friend," Teal'c said.
Andromeda sighed. "It is nothing."
"You are a good fighter, but a poor liar, Tek ma'te," Teal'c replied.
Andromeda laughed; it was a good sound, and one Teal'c heard only rarely. "I am no Jaffa Master," she said. "In fact, I am running out of things to teach you, Teal'c. That is one thing that troubles me," she admitted. "You are a natural, and I fear that you will soon have little need for me as anything more than a sparring partner."
Teal'c smiled. "I doubt that," he said. "You are still my better, with weapons or without."
"Only through experience," she insisted. "You know everything I do; you need only practice."
"Andromeda," Teal'c said, rolling onto his side to look at her. "We are friends, are we not?"
"I think so."
"Then why do you worry that I will not need you?"
Andromeda smiled, sadly. "I am sorry, Teal'c," she said. "I have never had a friend before." She made this claim often, although Teal'c had his doubts. "I am also worried that my father will keep me from seeing you, although..." She paused. "Perhaps it is best that he meets you. He could teach you better than I can."
"You know that I could not pay for an apprenticeship."
"I know," Andromeda replied. "But perhaps he will see you, as a favour to me, and then...Teal'c, I do not believe that he would allow your talent to go to waste. You are gifted, Teal'c; he will see that as clearly as I do, and he will teach you without a prentice price."
"I do not want charity," Teal'c told her, as he had done a year ago.
"It is not charity, my dear friend," she promised him. "Will you come and meet him; now?"
"Now?"
"Never say that you will do tomorrow, anything that you could do today, my mother always says." Andromeda leaped to her feet. "Come!" She said. "He will be home now to share meat with my mother; if we hurry we shall catch him at his meal."
"Where are we going?" Teal'c asked.
"To my home," she explained, impatiently. "Come on!"
*
Andromeda half-led, half-dragged Teal'c to her home. He stopped at the gate, looking up in horror.
"I can not enter here," he said.
"Of course you can."
"But...this is a warrior's house," he protested. "A Serpent Guard's house."
"Of course," Andromeda said. "My father is to be elevated to the Serpent Guard at the midwinter gathering; or so we guessed when we were given this house last month. He will be the youngest man in the guard, and one of the five youngest Jaffa ever to be awarded such an honour."
Teal'c swallowed. "A kresh'ta should not enter the presence of such a man," he insisted.
"Come in," Andromeda insisted, opening the door. "Or you'll be arrested for loitering in the urban district."
Entering the house of Andromeda's father brought wistful memories back to Teal'c, although even the First Prime of Apophis did not have a residence on the same scale that Teal'c had known on Elysia. After eight years in the camps, the house looked like almost Godly luxury, and Teal'c half-expected to be struck down by the wrath of Apophis for daring to profane the stone floors with his rough boots.
"Andromeda!" A Jaffa girl, only a few years older than Andromeda and Teal'c to look at her, dashed out of a doorway. She had long, dark hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes, but her skin was fairer than Andromeda's. A black serpent tattoo marked her brow. "Go back out, quickly. Your father is livid."
"Shan'auc? What is wrong?" Andromeda asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I came for your lesson," Shan'auc replied.
"My lesson! I forgot!"
"You were not here when your father returned. You know how he hates for your to miss your..." She broke off, noticing Teal'c for the first time.
"Shan'auc; this is Teal'c," Andromeda said. "Teal'c of Elysia; Shan'auc of the Red Hills."
"It is an honour to meet you," the girl said.
"The honour is mine," Teal'c assured her.
"Andromeda!" Teal'c shuddered to his boots at the force of the voice that called his friend's name. It was not so much the volume, for it was not a loud voice, but more a sense of presence and authority. He turned, and saw a warrior at the top of the stairs. "Come here, daughter," the man growled, and Andromeda obeyed, moving slowly up the stairs with her head bowed.
"That is her father?" Teal'c asked.
"It is," Shan'auc agreed.
"I had expected him to be...taller," Teal'c admitted.
Andromeda's father was not only smaller than Teal'c's expectations, he was also rather smaller than most of the Jaffa he had met in his short life. At thirteen years old, Teal'c was almost as tall as the man, and he was not broad and powerfully built like most warriors. He was also the only Jaffa that Teal'c had ever seen sport facial hair, wearing a moustache and a neatly-trimmed black beard.
"What is it that you teach to Andromeda, Shan'auc?" Teal'c asked, watching as his friend received her scolding.
"I teach her to read," she replied. "My father is a scholar at the court of Apophis, highly revered for his learning. Bra'tac is a friend of his, and asked me if I would teach his daughter; as a favour."
"You must be learned yourself, to teach at such a young age."
Shan'auc acknowledged the complement with a small bow. "As must you," she replied.
Teal'c smiled. "You are mistaken. Andromeda is the teacher, I am her student."
Shan'auc raised a single, delicately arched eyebrow.
At the head of the stairs, Andromeda had raised her eyes to meet her father's gaze, and was now speaking animatedly while Bra'tac listened. From time to time one or both of them would look down to where Teal'c stood; he began to feel uncomfortable.
An old woman stepped out into the hallway. For a moment, Teal'c took her for a servant, for she was not Jaffa, but then he remembered that the warriors of Apophis did not have servants of their own. Unlike the Raven Guard, they held that to be waited on was the prerogative of the God, and that mortals should be self-sufficient.
"Is this a friend of yours, Shan'auc?" The woman asked, pleasantly, but loudly enough to draw the attention of the father and daughter at the top of the stairs. She walked towards Teal'c, with a slow but steady pace. She had very long, iron grey hair, and her skin was lined with years of care. Had she been a Jaffa, Teal'c would have put her age at around one-hundred and twenty, but her dark eyes were still sharp and bright, and it was the eyes that told him this was Andromeda's mother.
"This is Teal'c, Ariadne," Shan'auc said. "A friend of Andromeda's."
"A friend?" Ariadne asked, feigning shock. "And here I thought you were her only friend."
Teal'c was surprised to hear this confirmation of Andromeda's claims, but at the same time it was now clearer to him why she would not have many friends. Her mother was human, and this would lessen her in the eyes of other Jaffa; especially Serpent Guards and their kin.
"How long have you been friends with my daughter?" Ariadne asked.
"A year, perhaps," Teal'c replied.
"Do you hear that, Brey?" She called up to her husband. "Our little girl has had a friend for a whole year without telling us."
"She is a keeper of secrets," Bra'tac agreed, escorting his daughter down the stairs again. "She takes after her mother." He came to stand with Ariadne and kissed her. Had he not known, then before seeing that kiss, Teal'c would have taken her for his mother.
"Well, Teal'c," Bra'tac said. "Since you are here, and my daughter's friend, and since our midday meal has been delayed by her absence, you shall break bread with us."
Teal'c was startled. Could this man not see that he was a kresh'ta? "I should not like to intrude," he said.
"It shall be no intrusion," Bra'tac assured him. "After we have eaten, perhaps you and I can talk, while my wife rests, and Andromeda has her lessons. Unless you must leave us, Shan'auc?"
"No, Sir," Shan'auc replied.
*
Teal'c ate a second meal with Andromeda's kin, all the time mindful of the hour. After they had eaten, Bra'tac spoke quietly with Andromeda and then sent here away with Shan'auc to study, and Ariadne retired to her chambers to rest.
"My daughter tells me that you are a warrior," Bra'tac said.
"I hope to be so, one day," Teal'c demurred. "For now, I am but a student."
Bra'tac harrumphed. "It is a worthy ambition," he said. "Are you apprenticed to a Jaffa veteran, Teal'c?"
"I am not," the boy admitted. "I have no money to pay a prentice price."
"You have the look of a warrior's son," Bra'tac told him. "If your father can not teach you himself, would not the Temple of Apophis sponsor you with a master?"
"No, Sir," Teal'c replied. "My mother and I are kresh'ta."
Bra'tac raised an eyebrow, quizzically. "Then your ambition becomes the more lofty, but no less worthy. You seem eager to depart," he noted, suddenly. "You have been looking to my gleb'dra since you arrived."
"Not eager, Sir," Teal'c assured him. "Only, I have work to do."
"What work?" Bra'tac asked.
"I must clean the grate of the baker's oven," Teal'c replied, averting his eyes.
"There is no shame in honest toil, Teal'c," Bra'tac assured him. "Go then; but return tomorrow. I wish to see what kind of warrior you might be."
Teal'c's heart leaped in his chest; perhaps Andromeda was right. "I shall do as you command, Sir," he promised.
"Good. Come at dawn; and do not be late."
"I can not come until at least an hour after dawn," Teal'c said, apologetically. "I must make up the fire in the oven."
"Let the baker do his own work for one day," Bra'tac told him. "I say come at dawn and you will come at dawn."
"I can not," Teal'c insisted. "I have promised that I shall do this work and he can not find another overnight. I have a duty to fulfil my word to him."
"Duty!" Bra'tac barked, angrily. "You would disobey a warrior of Apophis for the sake of your word to an outcast baker, and then lecture him in duty!"
"I would," Teal'c replied, setting his heels in.
"Get out of my house," Bra'tac growled.
"As you wish," Teal'c agreed, fighting to hide his broken heart. This was his chance and he was throwing it away, but he had promised Cham'dac that he would always be there on time, and work until the work was done, and he would not break that promise; not if Andromeda's father had been the First Prime of Apophis himself. Kal'rhe had once told him that he was too stubborn, especially when he knew he was right, and it was all too true.
Teal'c stood and walked away, keeping his head held high by an effort of will. He went down the stairs, passing Andromeda and Shan'auc, who were staring fearfully from behind a half-open door. Plainly Bra'tac's shouts had carried.
"And Teal'c!" Bra'tac called from the top of the stairs, as the boy reached the door to the street. "Be back here at the second hour; neither late nor early."
Teal'c turned to stare at Bra'tac, only half-understanding what was happening. "It was...a test?"
"The first of many," Bra'tac confirmed. "This one you passed. Let your baker know that you might not be back until late tomorrow," he added. "It could be a long day, and in the daylight hours he can find another to take your place."
*
The next morning, Teal'c came to Bra'tac's house as instructed, his heart full of anxiety. Ariadne met him at the door, and told him to go through to the courtyard, where Bra'tac would meet him. She seemed even frailer than the day before, and Teal'c asked her if she was well.
"Well?" She asked, with a soft chuckle. "Not really. I am old, you see, Teal'c; before my time perhaps, but old nonetheless. I am...How old would you think I was?" She asked.
"Perhaps one-hundred and ten," he suggested, without awkwardness, for age was not a subject of embarrassment among Jaffa.
Ariadne laughed again. "I am fifty-two years old; only two years older than my husband, but I am not Jaffa. Even among my people, I would not be considered ancient," she added.
"Then why are you so...weary?"
"Ah, you see, Teal'c; Jaffa medicine knows only how to set bones and make salves for the easing of wounds. I have fallen ill on many occasions, and never have the doctors here on Chulak been able to offer me any medicine save the prim'ta. I have almost died three times, and each sickness has sapped a little more of my strength."
"Why have you never taken a prim'ta?" Teal'c asked, shocked.
"Have one of those squirming eels placed inside me?" Ariadne asked, with distaste. "A hole burned in my innards for a parasite to nest in? I would not trade all the aches of my bones for that."
Teal'c stared at the old woman, appalled by her words. "You speak blasphemy," he accused.
"Well, yes; but I will be dead soon enough," Ariadne assured him, taking him by the arm and leading him towards the enclosed courtyard at the centre of Bra'tac's house. "And I shall answer to the Gods then."
"Are you corrupting the boy?" Bra'tac asked, meeting them as they emerged from the house.
"Of course," Ariadne confirmed.
The courtyard was far smaller than Teal'c had expected. It was in truth less than a fifth of the size of the great cloister court in his father's residence, and it seemed smaller still, as Teal'c's last and clearest memories of that place were from the age of five. The ground was dusty and hard where that on Elysia had been green with grass, and instead of trees, a set of targets had been positioned around the courtyard. The ground was marked with a pattern of interlocking circles.
On the far side of the yard was a small, shaded veranda, where Andromeda sat, talking to a young boy, about a year older than herself. The two of them were seated close together, and Teal'c felt a pang of jealousy to see them. From what Andromeda and her parents had said, he had thought that he was Andromeda's only close friend.
When she noticed him, Andromeda looked up, and waved eagerly at Teal'c.
"Go over," Bra'tac said. "Andromeda shall introduce you."
Teal'c did as he was told, and Andromeda jumped to her feet and welcomed him with a hug. "Kel'sha, Teal'c," she said, seemingly very glad to see him.
"Kel'sha, Andromeda." Teal'c squeezed his friend's shoulders.
"Teal'c; this is Va'lar."
"Kel'sha, Teal'c," the other boy said, cheerfully, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. He was wearing a heavy padded tunic, and a padded helmet lay by his side.
"Kel'sha," Teal'c replied, eyeing him, suspiciously.
"Be nice, Teal'c," Andromeda said. "Va'lar is one of my father's students, and a very promising one. He shall be a valiant and honourable warrior some day." She hugged Teal'c again, and took the opportunity to whisper in his ear: "But still a very, very boring one."
Somehow, Andromeda's criticism caused Teal'c's animosity to evaporate. He stepped away from Andromeda and clasped Va'lar's arm. "I ask your pardon," he said. "I was rude."
"Apology accepted," Va'lar assured him. "But perhaps I can repay you with a few bruises today."
"What do you mean?" Teal'c asked.
"Well I..." Va'lar looked over Teal'c's shoulder and broke off.
"He means," Bra'tac said, approaching behind Teal'c so quietly that at his first words the boy nearly jumped out of his skin. "That you will fight against him to show me how much you have learned."
"Come, Teal'c," Andromeda said. "I will help you with your training armour."
"Aray, daughter!" Bra'tac snapped. "The boy does not need a nursemaid. Can he not don his own training armour?"
"He has never worn it before," Andromeda replied, staring at her feet.
"Is that so?" Bra'tac asked. "Va'lar; find a suit of training armour that will fit Teal'c and show him how it is worn. Also find him a mashak and return here with him."
"Yes, Bra'tac," Va'lar replied. "The armoury is this way," he told Teal'c.
Teal'c hesitated a moment, watching as Andromeda stood red-faced before her father, then followed Va'lar.
"So," Va'lar said. "Do you aspire to join the Serpent Guard; or just to be a warrior? Because I should warn you; if you do not intend to work hard enough to join the elite, there are easier masters than Bra'tac." The two boys were in the small armoury of Bra'tac's house, sorting through padded training armour.
"I shall be First Prime of Apophis," Teal'c told the older boy.
Va'lar shrugged. "Then you have come to the right place. It is common knowledge that Bra'tac will be named old Hek'la's successor once he is raised to the Serpent Guard; perhaps you will follow Bra'tac." Va'lar laughed, suddenly. "Although you will have to be better than Fro'tac to do so."
"Who is Fro'tac?" Teal'c asked.
"Master Bra'tac's oldest apprentice, and the prime of his training company," Va'lar said. "He is a man of ambition; or will be when he is a man," he added, grinning. When Teal'c did not grin back, his look faded. "Try this one," he suggested, passing Teal'c a set of armour. "The straps fasten at the back."
After two attempts, Teal'c got the hang of the fastenings on the training jacket, but the one that Va'lar had given him was too small, so he tried another.
"I had not realised," Va'lar admitted. "But you must be bigger than Fro'tac; although not stronger of course. Not yet, anyway, although I suppose once you undergo the prim'ta you'll be the first of us to be able to give him a run for his money." He stepped back and examined Teal'c. "That looks about right," he said.
"My movement is greatly inhibited," Teal'c replied, trying and failing to bend his arms fully.
"Sounds about right. I hate this stuff, but we have to train to fight in armour after all. Now," he said, clapping three padded helmets onto Teal'c's head, one after the other, until he found one that fit. "Perfect," he said, picking up, two wooden staffs. "Let us go."
Bra'tac watched carefully as Teal'c took his en garde, studying the boy as he focused his mind, pushing aside his anxiety. It was plain to see that the child was agitated, eager to impress and worried that he might make a mistake and humiliate himself, but as Teal'c prepared himself for combat, those concerns slid away from him, and he stood calm and steady.
"The objective of this fight will be to press your opponent to the ground," Bra'tac explained. "If your opponent falls once, or goes to one knee on three occasions, you win, and the fight is ended." He stood back from the combatants, Andromeda by his side. She had insisted on watching the bout, although Bra'tac doubted that her presence would be good for the concentration of either fighter. "Begin," he said, and they did.
The two boys sparred fiercely. Teal'c was by far the stronger of the two, and also skilled and balanced. Va'lar moved better however, and his skill was greater. After a minute of feeling out Teal'c's weaknesses, he ducked beneath Teal'c's attack and swept the younger boy's legs from under him. Teal'c crashed heavily down on his back, but broke the fall well, taking the impact on his arm. He scrambled up, and gripping his mashak tightly, took a step towards Va'lar.
"Enough, Teal'c," Bra'tac commanded. After a moment of hesitation, Teal'c stepped back. "You fight well," he said.
"Not well enough," Teal'c grumbled.
"No?" Bra'tac asked.
"I was defeated."
"You insult Va'lar by suggesting that he should be easily defeated," Bra'tac said, his voice dark. "A warrior may seek to instruct or correct his brethren, but he never insults them."
"No offence was taken," Va'lar hastened to note, affably.
"Clearly you were restricted by the armour," Bra'tac allowed. "Va'lar has trained with it all his life. I was most impressed by your prowess, but you lack restraint. I told you that the fight would end when one fighter fell to the ground, yet you sought to continue. Who is your teacher, who has not yet taught you to master your anger?"
"Father..."
"Be quiet, daughter," Bra'tac snapped. "The boy must answer on his own, or how can I know what kind of man he is."
Teal'c's eyes flickered to Andromeda, and she gave a small nod.
"My teacher was Andromeda, daughter of Bra'tac," Teal'c said.
Bra'tac looked startled. "Andromeda?" He turned to his daughter, who cast her eyes downwards once more. "You trained a warrior? I did not teach you to fight so that you could play at being a bash'ak instructor, but for your own defence; nothing more!"
"Father..."
"You could have been hurt," Bra'tac went on, ignoring Andromeda's protests.
"You taught me better than that," Andromeda protested. "I am better than any of your students; even Fro'tac can not..." She tailed off.
"Fro'tac? You have been sparring with Fro'tac? Are you mad, girl? Have you been brawling in the streets as well?"
Andromeda's face was hidden beneath her hair, but Teal'c could see her ears flush red.
"Master Bra'tac..." Va'lar began.
"And you?" Bra'tac asked. "Fro'tac I might have expected this from, but you, Va'lar? I expected more common sense."
Va'lar hung his head and fell silent.
Bra'tac turned back to his daughter. "What were you thinking?" Bra'tac demanded.
"I..." Andromeda turned and fled indoors.
"Come back here, girl!" Bra'tac called.
"Leave her be!" Teal'c snapped.
Bra'tac rounded on him. "You wish to tell a father how to raise a child, now?" He asked.
"She is my friend and my teacher," Teal'c said. "And she has trained me well."
"She has only a partial understanding of combat," Bra'tac scoffed. "Her mistakes could have cost you your life one day."
"What mistakes?" Teal'c asked.
"You think you are a perfect warrior?" Bra'tac scoffed. "Need I remind you that you lost your fight?"
Teal'c swallowed hard. "I have not forgotten," he assured Bra'tac. "But tell me what mistakes I made." He paused a moment. "That a warrior trained by you would not make after a year of study."
"A year?" Va'lar asked, astonished, when Bra'tac made no response. "She has only been training you for a year?"
"Va'lar," Bra'tac said. "You may go now. Leave your mashak but clean your armour and put it away before you leave."
"Yes, Tek ma'te," Va'lar replied. "Kree'sha, Teal'c."
"Kree'sha," Teal'c returned.
"Now, Teal'c," Bra'tac said, when they were alone. "Tell me, what training had you received before my daughter began teaching you?"
"Very little," Teal'c replied. "My father explained some basic principles of battle to me when I was four years old, and taught me until I was five, but I understood very little."
"That is very young to begin training in mastaba; your father must have held great ambition for you."
Teal'c nodded. "He wished for me to take his place," he admitted.
"As what?"
Teal'c squared his shoulders, defiantly. "As First Prime of Cronus."
Bra'tac looked surprised, but held his composure. "As First Prime? Well, Teal'c; it seems that you are a kresh'ta of quality." He stroked his beard, thoughtfully. "Take off your armour, and place it neatly on the terrace," he instructed.
Teal'c obeyed, uncertainly, laying the padded tunic flat on the tiles, and setting the helmet on its breast.
"Now, take up your mashak, and defend yourself."
Teal'c hesitated.
"What is the matter?" Bra'tac asked.
"You are a Jaffa Master," Teal'c said. "You will defeat me."
"Is that any reason to just let me do it?" Bra'tac asked. "If you will not fight, you only assure yourself of defeat, Teal'c. Now; take up your staff, and defend yourself."
Teal'c picked up the mashak, and parried as Bra'tac attacked. The warrior struck at Teal'c, slowly at first, then faster, until the boy could not keep up. Teal'c knew that the finishing blow could not be far off, but then Bra'tac simply stopped.
"Very good," he said.
Teal'c was baffled. "Master Bra'tac; why do you not strike me?"
"What would that achieve?" Bra'tac asked. "As you noted, I am a Master Jaffa, while you are a boy of thirteen; what would it prove for me to defeat you? I wanted to know how good you were, without armour. I have seen that."
"And how good am I?"
"You show promise," Bra'tac allowed. "But no more than that. Yet. You do however ask far too many questions," he added. "Now, wait here."
Bra'tac went indoors, up the stairs and through the door to his daughter's room. Andromeda was sitting in the far corner, beside her bed, her eyes red from crying. Bra'tac went in, sat on his daughter's bed, and held out a hand.
"Come here, Andromeda," he said.
Andromeda sniffled, defiantly, but came and sat beside her father.
"Why did you decide to teach Teal'c?" He asked, gently.
"He...He was not like the others," she said.
"Which others?" He pressed.
"Any of the others," Andromeda replied. "He was not like your students, who look at me as some kind of extension of you; or the other apprentices, who are threatened because I know how to fight; or the other girls who think I am a freak for the same reason. He was not even like the other kresh'ta, who keep their heads held low and try to stay out of sight. I knew he wanted to know how to fight, and if I taught him I thought he would...He would like me, and be my friend."
"And you do not have many friends," Bra'tac noted.
"I have none, now that you have sent Teal'c away."
"What about Shan'auc?"
Andromeda sighed. "Shan'auc is pleasant enough, but she and I share nothing. She will be a scholar, if not a priestess; I..."
"You? What will you be?"
"I want to be a warrior," she said.
"No!" Bra'tac snapped.
"But it is what I am good at!" Andromeda complained.
"We will not speak of this again," Bra'tac said, firmly. "You know my wishes, and they shall not change, however often you defy them."
"Then I shall do as you wish, father," Andromeda replied, with ill-grace. "And become a bad scholar, and a bad wife, and a terrible mother; like all good Jaffa women should."
"Andromeda..."
"That is, if anyone will have an outspoken, mannish, friendless deviant for a bride."
"Andromeda; I have said many times that I will not stand for anyone speaking of you in such a manner, and that includes you. Besides which, you are not friendless, and I have not sent Teal'c away."
Andromeda looked up at her father in astonishment. "You have not?"
"No. Although I do not quite know what to do with him. I shall take him on as a student, for a month's probation. After a month however, he will have to find someone to fund his studies; I am a warrior, not a charitable institution."
Andromeda squealed in delight. "Oh, thank you!" She cried, throwing her arms around her father's neck.
Bra'tac hugged his daughter tightly, allowing himself a brief moment of vulnerability. "I am not just doing this for you," he admitted. "Your boy has spirit, and great potential. I would hate to see that go to waste. But," he added, as Andromeda squeezed her arms around his torso. "I want you to stop sparring with him. He has great anger, and I do not wish to see you hurt because of it."
Andromeda pulled away. "He has never shown anger towards me," she said.
"Nevertheless; if you spar with him, I shall end his training."
Andromeda looked into her father's eyes, and saw that she would not win this argument. "Yes father," she said, humbly averting her gaze.
"Go and show Teal'c how to stow a suit of training armour," Bra'tac said. "And mark that suit he was wearing for his use. Honestly, Andromeda," he sighed. "If you were going to train the boy, you should at least have taken the precaution of doing so in armour."
Andromeda looked away from her father. "I could make the mashaks myself," she explained. "But I could not sneak out two suits of training armour without you seeing me."
Bra'tac reached out and tousled her hair. "You taught him well," he admitted.
"Are you saying you were wrong?" Andromeda asked, with a sly smile.
Bra'tac gave a gruff laugh. "I am not; but I shall likely never come so close again. Treasure the moment."
*
One month later
Bra'tac watched from the edge of the bash'ak ground as Teal'c fought against Mar'ac, a young boy studying with Bra'tac's comrade-in-arms, Chel'rek. Mar'ac had been training with Chel'rek since the age of eight. He was strong and quick, skilled with the mashak and remarkably adept at reading his opponents. He was one of the finest student warriors not yet implanted in the prim'ta, and he was also losing. He was not completely overmatched by Teal'c, as Va'lar already was, but slowly, by inches, he was losing ground to Teal'c's relentless advance.
With a sudden rush, Teal'c lunged forwards, sweeping his mashak in a great arc to knock Mar'ac to the ground. But the move was too large, and Mar'ac saw it coming in time to roll underneath it. He reached out, catching Teal'c's booted foot in his hand, and tipped him onto his back. Teal'c struggled up, gasping for breath. For a moment, Bra'tac thought he might press the attack, but after a visible struggle Teal'c simply bowed to his victorious opponent, and left the bash'ak ground.
"How do you feel about that combat, Teal'c?" Bra'tac asked.
"I had him beaten," Teal'c replied, angrily.
"Did you?" Bra'tac asked. "It did not look that way."
"I was about to defeat him," Teal'c insisted.
"Yet he defeated you," Bra'tac noted. "So who had whom beaten?"
"Next time..."
"Next time he will defeat you again," Bra'tac told his student. "And the next time, and the time after that. What is more, he will defeat you in the same way; you will press him back, but try too quickly for the finish, and make your last attack with too great a strength. You know how to fell an attacker with barely a twitch of your staff, yet you persist in these overly-emphatic swings."
"It is what my father taught me."
"I feared as much," Bra'tac said. "It is a bad habit, learned early, and one I do not think I can break. Nor is it the only one that you have."
"Does this mean you will teach me no more?" Teal'c asked, anxiously.
"In all honesty, Teal'c; I do not know. You have more potential than any warrior I have known, but you are resistant to teaching." He sighed. "I can not say yet. I am going to have to extend your period of probation for another month, until I can decide if you can be broken of these habits."
"I have not found a sponsor..." Teal'c began to admit.
"Well, I can not charge you for your probationary period," Bra'tac replied. "So you have another month to do so. But do not mention to anyone that you are not paying for your studies."
"They would be jealous?"
"Either that, or suspicious of my motives for training a penniless youth. What you need," he went on. "Is more practice. You already spar with Va'lar each morning; I think perhaps you should begin sparring with Fro'tac."
"Is not Fro'tac a Jaffa?" Teal'c asked, uncertainly.
"Yes, he is; and as such he is not to be toppled by main force. Hopefully fighting someone stronger than yourself will help you to understand the limitations of your ingrained responses, and so break them."
"I can not defeat a Jaffa," Teal'c protested.
"I am not asking you to," Bra'tac told him. "You will spar with him. The object is not to win, but to learn."
"Perhaps I could spar with..." Teal'c began.
"No," Bra'tac interrupted, flatly.
"But you still train Andromeda to fight," Teal'c protested. "And does she not need to spar and practice."
Bra'tac gave no answer.
"I learned much from your daughter," Teal'c went on. "And you know that she longs to be a warrior woman."
"And in that, I will not encourage her," Bra'tac said. "To be a spear-maiden is to be despised."
"Andromeda says that they are respected."
Bra'tac sighed. "People defer to them out of fear, because they think them mad. My daughter has a romantic heart, and sees them as noble; thus she sees that fear as respect and reverence."
"What would you have her be?" Teal'c asked, knowing that he was speaking out of turn.
Bra'tac glowered at Teal'c, but his look was more weary than angry. "I want her to learn," he said. "To have knowledge and wisdom. In such things, used by those with true hearts and firm wills, do the future of the Jaffa lie; not in arms and warfare."
Teal'c frowned in confusion. "But war is our purpose," he said. "But I do not understand; you want her to be a priest? Or a scholar? These are both lesser callings than a warrior's; even for a woman. But what else could she do with learning, save squander it as a wife."
Bra'tac sighed. "Squander indeed. I hope..." He fixed Teal'c with a piercing look. "I hope that the man my daughter in time weds shall be such a man as can see her value. I am a father, and I am thus biased, but I do not think I speak falsely to say that my daughter is brilliant. Would you agree, Teal'c?"
"I would," Teal'c replied. "But..."
"But?"
"But I also believe that the Gods made her to be a warrior."
"Teal'c...!"
"You tell me that I have potential; that I have a gift. I believe that she has the same gift."
"Gah," Bra'tac growled. "You are as bad as she, but it is useless to try and persuade me. My daughter shall not be a warrior, and that is final."
"Very well, Tek ma'te," Teal'c replied, with a small bow. "I have another request to make," he added.
"Indeed?"
"With your permission, I should like to join Andromeda for her lessons."
Bra'tac sighed. "Teal'c; you know I can not allow it. I shall teach Andromeda alone, or not at all..."
"Not her training sessions with you," Teal'c hastened to explain. "Her lessons with the scholar's daughter. If, as you say, knowledge is the key to our future..."
Bra'tac looked doubtful. "They are quite advanced," he said. "I do not know if you could catch up with them. It could take you a year just to master the basics of reading and writing."
"I already know how to read and write," Teal'c replied. "My teachers commended me on the firmness of my hieratic script."
"Of course," Bra'tac said, ruefully. "I was forgetting; you are an outcast of quality." He smiled, fondly. "Very well, Teal'c; you may join Andromeda in her lessons. I am sure that it will please her, anyway, and perhaps you can encourage her to put as much effort into her studies as she does to defying her father."
"That may be a challenge beyond even me," Teal'c answered.
"Perhaps so," Bra'tac agreed. "But it can not hurt to try."
*
Teal'c met with Andromeda that evening, in their usual spot among the chamka trees, and told her his news.
"That is wonderful, Teal'c," Andromeda said. "You don't know how tedious those lessons are on my own. And father will teach you another month without a prentice fee?"
"He says he still does not know if I have what it takes to be a warrior. Perhaps if he did not set me against opponents that he knows will defeat me..."
"Teal'c," Andromeda said, soothingly. "The point of your training is not to win every fight, but to learn from them. You know that. If he only set you to fight Va'lar, what would you learn? Except that you can defeat Va'lar without really trying?"
"But he wishes me to fight Fro'tac; a Jaffa."
"I can beat Fro'tac," Andromeda reminded him. "Or I could the last time I fought him."
"But you can also beat me," Teal'c pointed out.
Andromeda sighed. "The point is that being a Jaffa does not make Fro'tac unbeatable," she said. "You are not as strong as him, but you are faster; I know you are. You just need to work at using your speed, instead of just your strength."
"Now you sound like your father," Teal'c said.
"Because in this case he is right," she replied. "You are a good fighter, but you need to be a little smarter. I know your father told you that strength is a warrior's greatest asset, but it is not true."
"Then what is a warrior's greatest asset?"
"There is no one thing," Andromeda said. "It is strength, speed and skill, combined with a swift mind, that make a great warrior. You have all the necessary assets," she assured them. "You just refuse to use them together. Come on," she added, bouncing to her feet and picking up her mashak. "I shall show you."
"Very well," Teal'c replied, standing to face her.
"You realise..." Andromeda began.
"That if your father finds out about this, he will stop teaching either of us," Teal'c finished for her. "Yes; I understand."
"I just have to be sure," she said, smiling. "Now, let us begin."
*
One month later still
Teal'c was in an ebullient mood, for he had finally managed to defeat Mar'ac, and his sparring matches with Fro'tac were becoming more evenly matched. As Bra'tac had hoped, pairing him off against the young Jaffa was forcing Teal'c to fall back on his not-inconsiderable speed and skill, instead of relying on the raw power and resilience that he possessed in such abundance. When Bra'tac called the boy aside, Teal'c's heart was filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. He felt certain that Bra'tac would take him on as a full student, but still he had found no-one willing to sponsor a kresh'ta.
"You have done well, Teal'c," Bra'tac said. "And come far in a short time. You have made great strides in conquering your anger."
"Thank you, Master Bra'tac."
"I shall be blunt," Bra'tac said. "I must ask a favour of you, Teal'c."
Teal'c was taken aback. "A favour? Of me?"
"Yes, Teal'c," Bra'tac replied. "I, a Serpent Guard, must ask a boon of a kresh'ta youth."
"Name it," Teal'c replied.
"Ariadne…You have no doubt observed that my wife is ailing," Bra'tac said.
"She still refuses to take a prim'ta?"
"She does," Bra'tac affirmed. "And she grows weaker. She is beset by spells of dizziness and fatigue, and I fear that she tires herself also, trying to keep all things well and ordered in our house. It would, I think, be best for her to have some assistance. Someone to aid her about the house and attend her when she needs it."
"A servant?" Teal'c asked.
"No, Teal'c," Bra'tac said. "Jaffa do not have servants; not on Chulak. But a helper."
"And what favour do you ask of me?" Teal'c said.
"I would have you ask your mother if she could do such a thing."
Teal'c's brow furrowed in bewilderment. "Could you not do so yourself?" He asked.
Bra'tac gave a soft chuckle. "Your mother is a proud woman," he said. "I have spoken to her only twice, but I know for certain that she would refuse me. But I know that you have become fond of my wife – as Ariadne has grown fond of you – and if you were to ask her, for your sake, to tend a dying friend…?"
"Dying?" Teal'c asked, alarmed.
Bra'tac sighed. "I doubt very much whether she will last the year," he admitted, in a hollow voice.
Teal'c reached out and squeezed his teacher's hand. He had come to see how devoted Bra'tac was to his wife, and could almost understand how hard it would be for him to lose her. Moreover, Bra'tac was young still, having wed Ariadne at the tender age of twenty-five. Most Jaffa of Bra'tac's age would be concluding the long courtship of their chosen life partner, and had Ariadne been a Jaffa they might have waited another fifteen, or even thirty years before marrying. As it was however, they could not do so; not if they wished to have any time together.
Now, Bra'tac was to be a widower at fifty-one, an almost unthinkable state of affairs for a Jaffa, and a lonely one. Jaffa widows often remarried, for the loss of a husband in battle was commonplace, but tradition forbade that a widower should do so. A Jaffa male swore his life to a woman when he married, and unless separated by mutual recognition was expected to stand by her until his death; even in the unlikely event that she were to die before him.
"I shall ask," Teal'c promised.
"Thank you, Teal'c," Bra'tac said. "I am afraid that I can not afford to pay her – if she would even accept payment – but I can offer her food and lodgings, for of these I have plenty. I will also underwrite your training myself," he added. "It only seems fair."
Teal'c's heart leaped for joy, but he restrained his body from doing likewise, aware that it would be insensitive.
Bra'tac gave a bittersweet smile. "Do not weigh your young heart with a grown man's troubles," he told the boy. "Go now, and tell my daughter the news. I think that it shall make her happy."
"Yes, Tek ma'te," Teal'c replied. "Thank you, Tek ma'te!"
"If you wish to thank me," Bra'tac said. "Be a good student. Now run along."
Teal'c ran all the way from the parade ground to Bra'tac's house, but was arrested by a shout as he ascended the steps to the front door.
"Cron'la-shak! How dare you come here?"
"Jor'lac," Teal'c said, turning slowly to face the Jaffa.
"Answer me!" Jor'lac demanded. "These are the dwellings of the Serpent Guard; a kresh'ta is not worthy to stand in their shadow." The Jaffa stood with the same pack of cronies as last time he and Teal'c had clashed. Two more of the youths had been implanted and tattooed as full-fledged Jaffa, but not the girl. She was still hanging on and hoping, but did not look as though she would last many more weeks before her sickly form ceased to hold any interest for Jor'lac.
"This is my teacher's house," Teal'c replied, proudly. "And he has sent me with a message for his daughter."
Anger flashed in Jor'lac's eyes. "How dare you!" He hissed. "You defame a warrior of Apophis. I shall have to teach you a lesson in manners."
"Please try," Teal'c replied, grinning fiercely.
Jor'lac stepped forward and swung a punch, but Teal'c turned the blow and swept the Jaffa's feet from under him. When they had clashed before, Jor'lac and Teal'c had been alike in style; both strong and using that as their primary advantage. Jor'lac was still stronger than Teal'c, but he was still using his strength alone, while Teal'c had learned better. One of the other Jaffa stepped up, and fared no better. Teal'c took a step towards the remaining boys, but then a hand grabbed him and threw him to the ground.
Teal'c looked up in fury, and saw the lean form of Bra'tac chasing the gang away. Only the two Jaffa Teal'c had knocked down remained, along with the girl, waiting anxiously for her patron.
"What do you think you are doing!" Bra'tac demanded, rounding on Teal'c.
"I could have defeated them!" Teal'c insisted, huffily.
"Oh, of that I have no doubt," Bra'tac assured him. "I know these boys; fools all of them, and their masters not much better. But I am not teaching you to be a street brawler. And you!" He turned on Jor'lac. "Your grandfather would be ashamed. If I see you near to my house, or hear of you tormenting the kresh'ta again, you shall answer to me."
"The kresh'ta are nothing!" Jor'lac wailed.
"This kresh'ta would have given you a sounder thrashing than you received if I had not stepped in," Bra'tac promised. "And a warrior of the Gods may be called upon to battle foes of lesser stature, but he should never delight in his power over them. Now get out of my sight."
Jor'lac and his friend scrambled to their feet and fled from Bra'tac's wrath. The girl moved to join Jor'lac, but he shoved her aside so roughly that she fell and was left far behind. As Bra'tac turned back to Teal'c, a woman, robed in grey, emerged from the shadows and helped the girl to her feet.
"I thought better of you, Teal'c," Bra'tac snapped, angry and disappointed. "Do I suppose aright that you have a history with that thug?"
"Yes, Tek ma'te," Teal'c admitted.
"It ends now," Bra'tac said. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Tek ma'te."
Bra'tac's frown softened slightly. "Then go in and tell Andromeda that you are now my student, and that you will be lodging here with your mother. If she did not hear us from her room, she need not know of this incident; so long as it is never repeated."
"Yes, Tek ma'te," Teal'c promised, unable to believe his luck.
"Well, go then," Bra'tac urged, and the boy ran inside.
*
"A wilful boy, but of great heart."
Bra'tac turned, startled. The robed woman stood behind him, the kresh'ta girl clinging to her hand. Her head was covered by a hood, and she carried a long rod of dark metal.
"Who are you?" Bra'tac asked, suspiciously.
The woman did not answer at first, instead turning to the girl and whispering to her. The girl nodded and ran off down the street.
"Where is she going?"
"To my lodgings," the woman replied. "The child needs a protector, and I think that to have a tok'ai might be good for me; I have been alone for nearly eight years, and that is not easy when you have secrets to carry."
"You are a mendicant?" Bra'tac asked, scarcely believing. Mendicants – wandering priests of no particular god – were more than just rare among the Jaffa.
"Indeed. Also, if I leave the girl she will just go back to her lover. I had a friend once," she added, sadly. "Who lived her life under the heel of such a brute. I would not care to leave anyone in that position."
"You spoke of my new apprentice, Teal'c," Bra'tac pressed. "What do you know of him, Sister?"
"More than you do, Master Bra'tac," the woman assured him. She lifted her hands and lifted her hood from her face. She was a woman of some beauty, but that was the last thing to impress itself on Bra'tac's mind, for she had golden hair and fair skin of a kind rarely seen on Chulak – save in some of the humans brought to the temple for the choosing – and the tattoo on her brow was a silver raven-glyph.
"You were a priestess of Cronus," Bra'tac realised.
"I was. My name is Kal'rhe," she added. "Perhaps Teal'c has spoken of me?"
"He has not," Bra'tac said. "He speaks little of his life before his exile," he added, when her face fell in obvious disappointment. "Although he may have said more to my daughter."
"I was his teacher," Kal'rhe said.
"A priestess?"
"I undertook responsibility for his spiritual training," she explained. "And I arranged his removal from Elysia when his father was taken. Do you know why his father was killed?"
"I do not," Bra'tac admitted. "I only know that he was the First Prime of Cronus."
"That is so," Kal'rhe agreed. "Will you walk with me, Master Bra'tac?"
"If you wish me to, Sister," he replied.
"Thank you," she said, drawing her hood back over her head. As she settled it in place, Bra'tac caught a glimpse of something underneath the collar of her robe.
"A mendicant in armour?" He asked, suspiciously.
"It is a dangerous world," Kal'rhe replied. "And not all would shirk from murdering a poor, wandering chantress for the meagre pickings in her purse."
"So young to be so cynical," Bra'tac chided, although he found himself warming to the strange priestess. "But a chantress in armour such as yours can hardly be very poor."
Kal'rhe smiled under her hood. "The mendicant life proved more profitable than I could have imagined, and I have few needs."
Bra'tac could believe that. The kresh'ta especially would pay a mendicant exorbitant fees to provide their services for marriages, funerals, prim'ta ceremonies and other ritual events where the priests of the temple might refuse to officiate for an outcast. They were also considered blessed by all the gods, to walk unpunished without choosing a master to serve above all others, and as such their blessings on a child or a union were prized even by the wealthy. The fact that it was common knowledge that the poor priests were nothing of the kind made Kal'rhe's precautions reasonable.
"And is your rod no more than a support?" Bra'tac asked, noting the way that she held the staff.
"Of course not," Kal'rhe replied, feigning offence. "A mendicant does not bear arms."
Bra'tac smiled at that. "We are heading for the temple?" He noted, letting the priestess lead. "I would not have thought a mendicant would be welcome there; especially not one who once served Cronus."
Kal'rhe shrugged. "I will not be welcomed, but they shall give me a prim'ta for the girl nonetheless. Would you mind being the honour guard for the emanation of the God?" She asked.
"As you wish," Bra'tac replied.
"It does not look much, does it," Kal'rhe said, gazing sideways at Bra'tac. She was carrying a slender tube in which a prim'ta swam. "Hardly godly."
"What is it that you want?" Bra'tac asked, warily. He walked at her side, carrying her rod to free her hands. A slight bulge where the rod was held housed a concealed switch, which Bra'tac was certain would cause the rod to function in much the same way as a staff weapon. Such a weapon must have been fashioned to order, and could not have come cheaply.
"My only interest for the past thirteen years has been the well-being of a child named Teal'c," Kal'rhe said. "I have been watching over him as best I could, but it is difficult for me. I am not exactly inconspicuous, especially on Chulak. You however…You seem to care for the boy, and you are ideally placed to care for him and nurture him. He has a great destiny," she told him. "Great, and terrible. It was foretold at his birth that he would kill a god, and when he was exiled he swore that he would throw down Cronus."
"He was exiled when he was five," Bra'tac pointed out.
"The child has a great deal of anger and resolve in him," Kal'rhe agreed. "His father was sent to fight a battle that could not be won," she explained. "And was killed for saving a large part of Cronus' army from destruction by retreating."
"A Jaffa commander must never retreat," Bra'tac said. "He should have known that."
"He knew that Cronus would be vulnerable if he did not send his forces back, and he was too in love with life to sacrifice himself. He seemed to hope he might be forgiven, but he was not. Teal'c knew that his father was no coward – and although he had many faults, that was indeed not one of them – and blames Cronus for his death.
"But that is beside the point," she said. "Which is that Teal'c is a child who must be handled with great care by someone with his best interests in mind. Someone who cares for him, but will not coddle him; someone who can take him in hand and teach him, which believe me is no easy task at times; and of course, someone who is not afraid to defy the gods a little and let him live."
"That is no easy thing," Bra'tac admitted. "Although it sounds as though Teal'c's destiny will be good for my Lord Apophis," he added.
Kal'rhe wondered who the warrior was justifying himself to; her or himself. "You shall watch over him then?" She asked.
"As you say, I have grown fond of the boy; although he is a trial. And while the Jaffa of Chulak do not have their fortunes told, I do not need some reader of destiny to tell me that Teal'c has more potential than any Jaffa I have trained; or trained under. Yes, Sister," he said. "I shall be his guardian. You have my word."
"Thank you, Master Bra'tac," Kal'rhe sighed. "It is a burden that has grown difficult to bear of late. A mendicant is welcome many places, but the bash'ak ground is not one of them."
"What will you do now you are free of your burden?"
"Oh, I shall be around," she assured him. "Not always, and not close anymore, but I shall be there. I too have grown fond of Teal'c, and I am not seeking an excuse to abandon him."
"That is good," Bra'tac said, approvingly. "In time the boy may have questions," he added. "Is there anything I should know of his history?"
"Nothing of great note that he does not already know." She paused a moment. "You might tell him that his father died well in the end. His prim'ta was crushed within him, and he died in agony, but I am told that he faced his death with dignity."
"That should please him," Bra'tac said. "He thinks very highly of his father; although I feel that he did not care greatly for him."
"The family was…strained," Kal'rhe confirmed. "Ron'ac played only a very small part in the raising of his child, although I do not doubt that he loved him."
Bra'tac nodded, slowly. "Tell me," he said. "Was it hard for you to leave the service of Cronus and become a priest without a God?"
Kal'rhe paused, weighing Bra'tac with her eyes, before she answered him. "My entire life has been a defiance of the gods," she said. "As with Teal'c, my auguries said that I should never have been allowed to live. I was trained in the temple and taught by many priests and scholars, yet I will say with certainty that the wisest Jaffa I ever knew was a humble midwife. She was despised by many as a witch and a meddler, and her tongue was profane against the gods, but I loved her."
"She is dead?" Bra'tac asked.
"My brother told me the news a few months ago," she said. "She gave up her symbiote to save the life of a child she did not know, and another could not – or would not – be brought to her in time. She touched many lives in her time, and it was through her example that I was able to turn from Cronus without pain."
Bra'tac frowned. "She was a heretic, yet a priestess did not report her crime?"
"The Gods know all," Kal'rhe said. "It is not for me to interfere in their judgement."
"Did she teach you that?"
Kal'rhe smiled. "No. That was somebody else."
*
At her request, Bra'tac left Kal'rhe on the doorstep of her home, a small, mud-brick hut in the camps, not far from where Teal'c lived. She had daubed a taboo sign on the doorframe to keep out the majority of unwanted guests. It was about the best she could do without setting up a tac inside the door, and most of what she had that was worth stealing she carried on her person; not that that had dissuaded the girl from looking.
"Did you find anything of interest?" Kal'rhe asked.
The girl looked up in panic from where she was rifling under the mendicant's hard, narrow bed. "I…" She began.
"You were looking for the bags of treasure that all mendicants hide under their beds," Kal'rhe finished for her, setting the cylinder on a small, rickety table. "You did not think that I would be true to my word, so you thought that you would steal the money to bribe a priest to perform the prim'ta ceremony for you; perhaps offering him your body to cover the fact that you had no patron to vouch for your worth."
The girl made a dash for the door, but Kal'rhe stepped forward, caught her arm and threw her easily to the bed. The girl sat up, staring around her like a frightened animal.
"I am not foolish enough to leave my valuables lying around in a kresh'ta camp," Kal'rhe said. She reached under her robe, drew out a purse, and tossed it carelessly onto her chair. "That is my treasure, such as it is. You can take it and go, if you want to; or you can take that" – she gestured towards the symbiote – "and stay."
"Stay?"
"As my tok'ai. You have a survivor's spirit, and a tough hide, but I think that there may be more to you than that. I you are willing, we can test that theory. It is not an easy life, mark you, but it is better than owing any man or god for your livelihood."
Kal'rhe stepped aside, and the girl went to the chair, lifting the purse and weighing it in her hand. Then she threw it back to Kal'rhe.
"Good girl," Kal'rhe said. "Now; what should I call you?"
"Tan'aul," the girl replied.
Kal'rhe nodded. "Well then, Tan'aul; lie yourself down. I have a ceremony to perform, and I would like to finish quickly so that we can get some supper."
*
Teal'c felt somewhat aggrieved when the news that he was to be Bra'tac's apprentice was trumped, but he could not deny a thrill of vicarious pride when a message arrived the next day to say that his teacher would be officially named as the successor to the mantle of First Prime of Apophis at the next dark of the moon, in nine days time.
"Congratulations, Tek ma'te," Teal'c said.
"Congratulations," echoed Ry'auc, who had barely arrived when the news came.
"I'm so proud of you, father," Andromeda agreed. "Isn't this wonderful?" She asked, turning to her mother.
"Wonderful," Ariadne agreed, but without conviction.
Deeply concerned, Bra'tac went with his wife into the courtyard, leaving the children to see to settling Teal'c's mother in the house. "I shall refuse, if you wish it," he said.
"You can not, and you know that as well as I."
"I can ask to be appointed a training post; Hek'la will allow it."
"This is what you have trained for all your life," Ariadne replied. "Remember when you persuaded me to run away with you? All the promises you made to me?"
Bra'tac chuckled softly. "Back then I thought that you would want a warrior of ambition. You were the daughter of a god; I could barely believe that you would look at a man like me."
"And now?"
Bra'tac sighed. "I know you do not want me to make war for the Gods," he said. "But if I remain a humble warrior I can never be more than a weapon. As First Prime, I can be the hand that wields that weapon, and maybe I can stay its fall from time to time."
"Is that what you want?" She asked, sadly.
"What I want, I can not have," Bra'tac replied.
"And what is that," Ariadne pressed.
"To be a man that you could love without reservation," he replied. "Who could have grown old with you."
Ariadne gave a melancholy smile, and gently touched her husband's face with a shaking, paper-skinned hand. "You have never sought another," she said. "Even as I withered. That is enough for me to love you, with all my heart, whether you carry a symbiote or not. I am only sorry I could not bring myself to carry one, so that I must cause you so much pain."
Bra'tac put his arms around Ariadne, holding her carefully to keep from hurting her.
"You were so young when we met," she sighed. "In a way I have made you grow old with me."
"I would not have it otherwise," he assured her, kissing her dry lips.
Tears sparkled in Ariadne's eyes. "Let us talk of something less gloomy," she said. "Why have you agreed to continue teaching Teal'c?"
"You disapprove?" Bra'tac asked, surprised.
"Only in as much as I disapprove of the way your people are used," she assured him. "I like the boy a lot; Andromeda does as well. But I have never taken you for a sentimentalist, my bold Bra'tac."
"The boy is gifted," Bra'tac said. "With the right training, he might be First Prime one day. With the right teacher, I hope he shall be a just one. So you see, there is method in my sentiment."
"There is anger in him," she cautioned. "And much hatred."
"What do you See for him?" Bra'tac asked, softly. His wife's gifts, inherited from her mother, had blossomed as she matured, and now her uncanny inner sight was sharper than her fading brown eyes.
"I See very little," she said. "Or very little that is clear. I have grown fond enough of him that my feelings obscure the sight, but there is more than that. The future is unwritten, but for some of us, the path is clearer than others. Teal'c's path is very hard to see. His destiny rests on the edge of a knife, and when it overbalances, the sound of its fall will echo between the stars."
Bra'tac smiled. "Which means what?" He asked.
Ariadne smiled back. "Teal'c will do great things, or perhaps terrible things; it is too close to tell. He has a heavy destiny, and his choices will affect many; I just hope he will be able to bear this burden."
"You See nothing more?"
Ariadne shook her head. "As I say; he is close to me now. I can see only a little more of his path than I can of Andromeda's or yours." She sighed. "You will look after them both when I am gone?"
"Of course," he said. "How could you think…?"
Ariadne silenced him with a kiss. "I know you dear heart," she said. "I have watched you pour your heart into our marriage, even when it has near-killed you to see me fade away from you. I have some inkling then of how much you will suffer when I am gone. If you let that consume you, then the road will be harder for those two dear children." She placed a hand on each of Bra'tac's cheeks. "Promise me, my love, that if you can not keep living for yourself, you will do so for them."
Bra'tac took her hands in his own. "I swear it," he said, aware that their talk had returned to the subject of Ariadne's death again. These days, it seemed that it always did.
*
Eight months later, Ariadne died. No one thing killed her; a lifetime of untreated minor illnesses just became too much, and her body gave in. To the last she flatly refused to be given the prim'ta ceremony. In her dying hours, Ariadne was attended by her daughter and by Ry'auc, who had become her firm friend. Teal'c hid himself away, ashamed of his tears, but Bra'tac found him, and sat beside him, and they wept together.
As a heretic, she could not be cremated in the temple grounds, but then Bra'tac knew she would not have wanted that anyway. Instead, he buried her with his own hands in a quiet grove of chamka trees, high above the city. It was a place they had come when they were younger, and Ariadne could still make the climb. Bra'tac, Andromeda, Teal'c and Ry'auc observed the funeral rites at the graveside, attended by a mendicant chantress who remained hooded throughout the ceremony. Teal'c thought that there was something familiar about her, and about the tok'ai who hovered behind her, but he was too caught up in his grief to give that much thought.
When the ceremony was done, the mendicant and her apprentice slipped away, leaving the mourners to their sorrow. No payment was asked.
*
For three days after his wife died, Bra'tac sat alone in the courtyard each night, shivering in the winter cold but barely noticing. He taught his apprentices little, and found it difficult to be in his daughter's company, seeing her mother in her face. He grew introverted and irritable, showing little patience with anyone.
On the fourth night, as he sat quivering, a blanket was laid over Bra'tac's shoulders.
"You look cold," Ry'auc said.
Bra'tac grunted in response. "I am cold."
"You should not close yourself off like this," Ry'auc went on. "It is not good. Your daughter is suffering, and your apprentices also. They fear you will soon refuse to teach them at all," she added.
"There are other teachers," he said.
"Master Bra'tac," she said. "You have been kind to me, and to my son, and I do not know how to repay you. But…you are lonely…" She laid a hand on Bra'tac's arm, and he shrugged her off with a sudden movement, leaping to her feet and throwing down her blanket.
"Ry'auc…!" He snapped, angrily, then stopped himself. "My heart's companion is dead," he continued, in a tight voice. "Whatever I need, it is not another woman."
"I am sorry," Ry'auc whispered. "But I…No-one has ever wanted anything else from me, and…."
"And you are worried about Teal'c," Bra'tac realised, and his voice softened. "You think that I will stop teaching, and I will send you and Teal'c away."
"I am not worried for myself," she assured him. "I can make my own way, but Teal'c is just a child."
"You worry for him," Bra'tac said. "It seems a lot of people do, but he is not so much of a child as you think. He found work to help support you both, did he not? He has had good teachers, Ry'auc, but I think that the time for them to protect him is passing." He sat down again. "But for now, he will always have a place in my home; as will you."
"Thank you, Master Bra'tac," Ry'auc said.
"But I want nothing from you," he told her, coldly. "I never shall."
"I understand," she replied, staring at her feet and feeling like a fool.
*
Four months on
The pain was unlike anything that Teal'c had ever known, a burning fire deep in his gut; as though he had swallowed the liquid flame from the heart of a staff weapon. He fought to rise, but powerful hands held him down.
"Be strong, Teal'c," Bra'tac's soft voice told him. "Control your fear, conquer the pain and open your eyes."
Teal'c thought that he was going to black out, but his teacher's voice gave him something to reach for, and he clung to consciousness. With a great effort, he fought down the urge to scream out loud, and forced his eyes to open. A priest stood over him, just turning way to set down a strange device, while another turned towards him, holding in his hands…
"You see it?" Teal'c asked in a whisper, his mouth close to Teal'c's ear. "How small it is? How vulnerable? Remember that Teal'c; that the god that you bear needs you to protect it."
The snake-like creature slithered from the priest's hands and across Teal'c's bare stomach, finding the raw edges of the pouch. It pushed it's mandibled head into the opening, and if he had not been held down, Teal'c might have tried to snatch at it then and keep the slimy thing from entering his body. When he tried to move however, the tok'ai on either side of him tightened their grip, and with a wriggle the prim'ta vanished from sight.
Teal'c felt the thing move in the fresh cavity dug in his abdomen, and then he did black out. When he woke they would inscribe the sign of Apophis on his brow, and he would be Jaffa.
Teal'c emerged from the ritual tent feeling stronger than he had ever done. New life surged through his limbs, and he realised for the first time that as a mere mortal he had been truly weak. He looked around as though seeing the world for the first time, at the small knot of friends who had come to witness his prim'ta.
Stepping from the tent behind his student, Bra'tac clapped Teal'c on the shoulder and moved past him. Next, Ry'auc stepped forward and embraced her son. Her eyes were glistening with tears, but she was smiling the widest smile that Teal'c could ever remember seeing on her face, and his heart sang at the sight of it. After his mother came Teal'c's fellow students – and fellow Jaffa – Fro'tac and Va'lar. The mendicant who had buried Ariadne, and her apprentice, watched from a distance, but did not approach.
Finally, Teal'c turned to Andromeda. She smiled warmly, her own tattoo fresh enough on her brow that the skin still looked raw.
"Kel'sha, Jaffa," he greeted her.
Andromeda's smile deepened, and she kissed Teal'c gently on the cheek. "Kel'sha, Jaffa."