Fic: The Snare (3/3)

[melyanna]

Part I
Part II

The day after the Goa'uld's most unreasonable request that the Caldorans give up half their country, the parties returned to the negotiating table, where King Henry flatly refused. The Goa'uld expressed their anger, but the Asgard dismissed them all until a new offer could be made. A few days passed before Thor came to the king to tell him that the Goa'uld had another request to be heard.

Though the Caldorans watched the roads approaching from the north and east, there was not a sign of the force of Tok'ra who were supposedly coming to their aid. Whether something had befallen them or John of Sheppard's information had been wrong, no one could say. But each day the Tok'ra failed to appear sapped a little more strength from the army, as they saw constant reminders of how far outnumbered they were by the invaders. Hope was beginning to fade, and no one knew what would happen when King Henry could no longer prolong the negotiations.

Stephen Caldwell entered the tent directly behind the king. The Goa'uld lords were already there, still standing. The Caldorans came up to the table, and once the Asgard had formally announced the purpose of the session, everyone took a seat, except for a woman among the Goa'uld.

Bastet was tall and slender, with dark hair and olive skin. Her gown was rich and sumptuous, and Stephen found it rather hard to believe that she had been allowed to come to the front in the first place, let alone with the wardrobe she seemed to have brought. She was festooned with baubles and bangles, none of which would help them win this war.

"My lord," she said, nodding gracefully to Landry. "Since you have refused our previous attempt to end this violence upon your people, we of the Goa'uld have decided to make another offer. We can only hope that this one will be more palatable to you."

Landry said nothing, but sat back in his chair and stared at the woman expectantly.

The muscles in Bastet's neck twitched, and Stephen was reminded of a cat deciding whether or not to pounce. The lady decided not to, evidently, but moved onward. "While your resilience in this campaign is laudable, I do not doubt that you will agree with this: you have not the resources to continue if this campaign extends much longer. The generation that should have been leading the defenses this time is gone. After all, the last time a superior force crossed the Mearali River, the Caldorans laid down their arms and did the bidding of their new masters."

Stephen stiffened, but it was John of Sheppard who responded. "We did not come to hear the shortcomings of a dead dynasty," he bit out.

Lady Bastet turned her head swiftly, the beads in her elaborate headdress jingling as she did so. Slowly, she gave Sheppard a smile that was almost obscene. She spoke to everyone on the Caldoran side but still stared at the marquis. "You are in need of protection," she announced. "The immortal lords of the Goa'uld are willing to offer it to you, for a price."

"Let me guess," Stephen said, drawing her attention away from Sheppard before the younger man could burst out again. "You wish a substantial portion of our wealth, our harvests, and our livestock?"

"A quite reasonable portion, I assure you," Bastet said smoothly. "We would also require you to provide us workforces from time to time, to work our farmland and mines, as well as serve in the army for the defense of your own nation."

"In other words," Maybourne said, "you want to pillage our resources and our population, which are doubtless the reasons you invaded us in the first place."

"We invaded to preempt whatever action you were planning against us!" she replied indignantly.

"Enough," said Thor, from his place at the head of the table. "As I have said to both sides already, the purpose of this meeting is not to assess the reasons for the invasion." After a long stare at Lady Bastet, he turned his attention to Landry. "King Henry, what have you to say to this new proposal?"

"I have no need to discuss it with my noblemen," he said, rising and staring at Bastet. The other Caldorans got to their feet as well. "Caldora will not prostrate herself before you."

He turned and left. Stephen followed after quickly, as did the other lords, heading to their own camp, not looking back.

They convened again in their usual meeting tent. Even the king looked somewhat lost for words, and Stephen sat silently as he tried to figure out what precisely had transpired.

Across the table, Sheppard was leaning far back in his chair, one foot up on the empty seat beside him, and he was slowly twirling a knife at his eye level. "Am I the only one with the urge to test their claim of immortality?" he drawled.

After a moment of tense silence, there was some thin chuckling from the group. "No," said the king, "but it would hardly be helpful."

Sheppard just shrugged.

Landry smiled for a moment and turned his attention elsewhere. "Stephen, what do you think?"

"Something is not right here," Stephen replied, shaking his head. "These demands they have made are ridiculous. They knew we would not cede half the country to them, and as Lord Maybourne rightly pointed out to that woman, they are now asking us to hand over everything they would have won had their conquest been complete." He paused, rapping his thumb against the tabletop. "This may sound insane, but what if they're stalling?"

Maybourne nodded. "I have wondered that myself."

"You mean, what if they're bluffing their way through these negotiations to buy themselves more time?" Sheppard remarked dryly.

"Sheppard," Landry chided. He turned back to the others. "What reason do you have to suspect that?"

Stephen glanced down the table. "I believe Lord Maybourne could be right in placing such importance on the absence of Lord Ba'al," he said. "We beat them badly. That must have made them nervous. Perhaps they're waiting for Ba'al to return before they make their next move."

"But why?" Sheppard asked.

It was a fair question. If Ba'al had left the Goa'uld war camp, surely he had designated a second to act for him. And where would the Goa'uld have gone in the midst of an invasion of a foreign power? Somewhat chagrined, Stephen replied, "That I do not know."

Carolyn could perceive no reason why, but her back was aching by the time she was done for the day. Word of her censure of Grieves and Neumann had been traveling about the court as quick as lightning. Davis had told her during dinner that there seemed to be a palpable change in the court's attitude toward her, and that despite her youth and gender she was garnering a great deal of reluctant respect from the lords of the assembly.

Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, Carolyn entered her mother's sitting room. Even though days had passed since her mother's arrival, it was still strange to see these rooms occupied. She wondered what her father would say to the current situation in Redwater, but instead of the familiar wistfulness, Carolyn felt a flicker of temper.

Her mother was seated at a table, writing rapidly. She barely looked up when Carolyn entered. "Is there something you need?" Aurelia asked.

"Nothing specific," Carolyn replied, sitting down at the other side of the table. "It has been a long day."

"Lord Davis told me of your censure of Neumann and Grieves," Aurelia said. "I am glad you found a way to deal with the situation without bringing it before the assembly. I doubt that would have gone well."

Carolyn nodded, absently staring into space. "It was good that you so quickly found their method of collusion."

"It was not difficult. They chose the most obvious hiding place. You will have the experience to recognize that kind of thing before long."

Carolyn said nothing, thinking once more of how well-suited her mother was for the role of consort. Even though she was foreign-born, she had an excellent sense of the politics of Caldora, leaving Carolyn to wonder how she justified her long absence from the court when she could have been so useful to her husband.

"I believe your father could have chosen no one better to rule in his place now," Aurelia continued. "You know I was skeptical at first, but there is simply no one who could have handled this situation as gracefully as you have."

Carolyn pursed her lips slightly and nodded. "The experience has been valuable for me," she admitted.

"How so?"

For a moment, she considered making up some trifling explanation, but instead she told the truth. "I know now what it will be like when I am queen and my husband is away." There was a faint change in her mother's expression, one that should have warned Carolyn from going further, but these things had gone unspoken for quite long enough. "Mother, how much longer will you stay away?" she asked.

"I came back when I was asked, did I not?" Aurelia snapped.

"You came back when I asked," Carolyn countered. "Would you have come as readily had Father asked?"

"Carolyn-"

Carolyn simply shook her head. "William's death was hard on all of us, Mother," she said. "But Father did not have the luxury of grief in your manner."

"Carolyn," Aurelia repeated, this time sharply.

She backed down immediately. "I am sorry, Mother."

Her mother did not answer her directly, but took up her quill and continued writing. "We are to dine with Lady Juliana again tonight," she said. "I suggest that you go and prepare yourself."

Carolyn nodded and turned to go. But when she reached the door she paused, staring at the ground before her. "Mother, he needs you," she said quietly.

She did not intend to wait for a reply, but her mother stopped her with a single, quiet word. "Carolyn."

Carolyn turned once more to her mother. "Yes?"

The queen looked hesitant, little like her usual confident self. She opened her mouth once or twice before speaking. "Do you truly believe that?" she asked.

"More than ever," Carolyn replied earnestly. "These recent days have shown me beyond a doubt that a ruler must have a companion, someone whose role in his life is not consumed by the chaos of the crown."

Aurelia set her quill aside. "I do not know that you can understand this."

"I can try," Carolyn offered gently, slowly coming back to sit at her mother's side.

There was a short pause as the queen seemed to gather herself. "I never asked to be in this position," her mother said with a sigh. "When I married your father, he was merely a younger son. Then he became the earl and I the countess, and when the assembly named your father as king, you and your brother and I had little say in the matter. Henry's sense of duty... You and William were young enough that the change in our circumstances did not upset you much. But I knew what this meant for me."

When Aurelia stopped, Carolyn stared at her, wondering what this had to do with her absence from Redwater. "What did it mean, Mother?"

"That for better or worse, Caldora was home now. Rulers do not often leave their countries except for reasons of state, and given the distance between Caldora and my country, it was unlikely we could take a chance of traveling there." She bowed her head. "I knew I was unlikely to ever see my family again. I know that this is the fate of most women of our station who marry far from home, but it still hurt."

Carolyn said nothing for several minutes. She had never known of her mother's sadness when her father took the throne. William had only been nine at the time and she not much older. It was strange how much she had missed during those turbulent times.

"What about when William died?" she asked softly. Carolyn was uncomfortable, but she knew that all of this needed to be said. The air needed to be cleared. "Why did you just leave?"

Aurelia closed her eyes, and Carolyn saw that her mother was near tears. The queen grasped her daughter's hand tightly. "Carolyn, heaven forbid you ever lose a child in such a way," she said in a broken whisper. "I cannot imagine that any death is easy to bear, but this was too much. William's body was barely cold before the men of this wretched court began tormenting your father and me on what we would do with our heir now dead."

Not long ago Carolyn would have been stunned to hear of such callous behavior from the nobility of Caldora, but the recent days had taught her precisely how much selfishness and how little tact could be shown by these men. Now she was less surprised than disgusted.

Her mother swallowed hard. "I could not bear it," she said. "I could not bear the pity or the politics, so I left."

Carolyn's own eyes began to water. She had been too absorbed in her grief to see what was happening to her parents at the time.

Not knowing what else to do, Carolyn laid her free hand over her mother's. "I am sorry for what I said."

Aurelia gave her a brief but genuine smile. "You are a good girl, and a dutiful daughter," she said. "Someday you will be a better queen than I have been."

It was not a promise of change now or ever - far from it. But all the same, it made Carolyn hope.

Not since he attained the status of Lord of the Goa'uld had Ba'al been this exhausted. During the vicious wars with the other lords, even for the duration of the bitter struggle against the Ori, he had at the least been able to retire to his own chambers and enjoy basic luxuries such as a bath and hot food.

It had been so many days since he ate a full meal, he could no longer count them. Hunger cramped his stomach and sharpened the angles of his face unnaturally.

The wound on his thigh throbbed an insistent rhythm with every step, but since escaping from the assassins in the hills, rage had fueled him. He had ridden mercilessly to cross the Mearali and then through the night until he was within sight of the Goa'uld war camp. He passed almost unnoticed at first, just a dirty messenger from home, perhaps. It was not until he glared at his own First Prime that the servants realized who he was.

He took only the time to down a goblet of water and listen as his Jaffa informed him of what had happened in his absence: the defeat at the Otero, the return of the Asgard to Caldora, and this despicable supplication to the Caldorans. All of these things were complications they could ill afford now. He did not know how he would disentangle himself from this chaos without losing everything.

However, his first task was to inform the other lords of what had been going on behind their backs. And he had no time to waste.

The Asgard, strangely tiny, were guarding the entrance to their tent. He suspected it was only the presence and deference of his own First Prime at his shoulder that allowed them to recognize the mud and blood-spattered man as a Goa'uld lord. Reluctantly, they nodded him inside.

He drew up, concealing his fatigue and fury with years of practice as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior.

There were the other lords, staring at him in surprise and, in Bastet and Heru-ur's cases, disgust. Yu was inscrutable as ever. At the head of the table sat one of the Asgard priests, dressed in simple robes that made the ostentation of the nobles on both sides of the table look gaudy and pathetic by comparison.

And there were the Caldorans. He raked them over with one look. King Henry was aged, with the somewhat paunchy look of a man who had been fit once in his youth but whose prime was long past. On his one side was a slightly younger man who resembled a bull, with a bald head and the figure of a warrior. Next to him at the end was another older man with a crafty face, who regarded Ba'al's entrance with something akin to surprise.

At the king's other hand was the only young man on the Caldoran side. He stared, as did his king, in confusion at the intruder.

The Asgard rose - which was barely noticeable, the man was so short - and stared blankly at him. "My lord, you are?"

Falling back on his practiced charm, he bowed slightly. "Ba'al, Lord of the Goa'uld. My apologies for my late arrival, my lords. I have only just returned to the camp." There was no sense pretending. It was patently obvious that he had been riding hard and long from the dirt and stench on his clothes.

He was welcomed stiffly by the head priest, and Yu gave an imperious nod towards an empty chair near the wall. It rankled slightly but he took it without reaction.

The discussion resumed after a few more moments of stunned silence. "My lords, Lord Heru-ur was in the process of delivering a proposal."

Heru-ur shook himself from his stupor and turned back to the table.

Ba'al settled himself in the chair, listening with half an ear and taking stock of the situation. Heru-ur droned on about the borders between Goa'uld lands and Caldora. The current proposal, from what he could gather from the objections being voiced by their enemies, involved the removal of troops from along the western border of Caldora and the demolition of all watchtowers, all the way into the Mearali pass in the mountains.

Ba'al ground his teeth. These mindless fools were nattering about watchtowers? He could not begin to imagine what would lead the collected lords of the Goa'uld to simper before these common men. The great defeat at the Otero should have pricked the warlords into attacking the remnants of Caldora's army with their full force, wiping them out. Instead, here was Heru-ur, bartering with the inferior king of a half-dead country like he was purchasing fruit in a marketplace.

Had conditions been different, just such an attack would have been his first impulse. But his perilous trip home had proved to him how little time was available, if the lords of the Goa'uld intended to remain lords of anything at all.

The negotiations had to end and swiftly, that much was clear. But the presence of the Asgard and their magics and contraptions meant this must be handled carefully. If the Goa'uld broke off discussions with no cause, it would be bruited far and wide that they had violated the hospitality and mediation of the Asgard. The powerful little priests would then summon heaven only knew how many others to the side of Caldora, as well as putting their own support behind the beleaguered king. The Goa'uld would face dangers from both before and behind. He could not have that.

He focused again on the Caldoran noblemen in the tent. The bull - the bald one on the king's left - was responding to Heru-ur's proposals with barely concealed contempt. The king watched the Goa'uld with his saggy face but there was some fire still in his eyes. Apparently the man was not burned out just yet.

Ba'al focused on the young man, whose jaw was tight as he glared silently at Heru-ur. He was dressed in dark colors, a symbol upon his tunic that Ba'al didn't recognize. But Ba'al knew the crest on his sword’s seal. Anyone with eyes would recognize the winged steed of Atalan.

Ba'al made it his practice to know of the gossip circulating in the courts of the various nations. He had spies and informants in every place, not just among his rival Goa'uld's holdings. There had been stories from Atalan last winter of a handsome young knight who had rescued the princess and subsequently become a favorite of the new queen. The stories about the prominence given to the stranger by the monarch had taken on a new flavor when the young knight was revealed to be Caldoran by birth.

Could this man possibly be the Caldoran exile? The one the rumors held to be young Queen Elizabeth's lover?

Ba'al himself had wondered at the truth of such speculation, given what he knew about the queen and in particular about the men who had raised her. But the fact of Elizabeth's preference for the man's company had been undisputed.

A plan began to form in his mind.

Patiently he waited as Heru-ur and Apophis parleyed back and forth with the Caldorans regarding the borders, pushing the frustration in the room higher and higher. The young lord finally spoke, addressing Apophis, "We have a right to protect our own borders, my lord, a right which none shall take from us."

"If I may interrupt?" he said smoothly, before Apophis could respond. The Asgard blinked slowly once, which seemed to indicate permission. He turned to the Caldoran. "If terms are arranged here between your people and the lords of the Goa'uld, what need would there be to guard the western borders of this land? Unless you have reason to fear that Atalan will invade through the mountain passes at will." He smirked slightly, noting the way the young man's eyes flashed with irritation.

"We have far less to fear from Atalan than from you," he snapped at Ba'al.

"You speak with authority, my lord. I take it you know the country?" He nodded at the sword.

Ba'al could practically see the man gritting his teeth. "I have been there."

"And you have met the queen?" he pressed.

"Yes." There was thunder in the single word, a warning any man in his right mind would take to tread carefully in mentioning the woman in question. Ba'al was not out of his mind, but he was desperate.

"I have had that honor as well. In fact, I did Queen Elizabeth a service some years ago, when she was still queen-elect, of course. She expressed her deepest gratitude for my aid at the time." This was stretching the truth near the breaking point, but the deepening scowl on the man's face said clearly he didn't know that. And the insinuation dangling under the words was biting at the lord. Ba'al kept his voice languid and his smile firmly in place. "I suppose her Majesty did not speak of such things to a stranger, though. Unless..."

He noted the way the lord's fingers were digging into the chair as he paused for effect. He pierced the man with a look. "I had heard that a Caldoran had found himself in the, shall we say, good graces of the young queen in the north? Despite the objections of her own court and advisors, the... warmth of her affections led her to ignore all warnings about propriety? I confess I had thought the story nothing but a scandalous rumor-"

He got no further, for the Caldoran leapt up from the table and grasped his sword. He was trembling from head to foot. His voice was not the hysteria of a prideful nobleman but the deadly intent of a man who had spilled blood before and would do so again. "You will hold your lying tongue, or I will do the job for you, my lord."

Even as he sneered the last words, his own king was on his feet, bellowing, "Lord John!" The other Caldorans and Goa'uld rose and joined the fray, and the Asgard called futilely for order.

Lord John was restrained and the Asgard swiftly threw the Caldoran delegation from the tent for the outburst, effectively ending the negotiation, at least for the moment. Ba'al's satisfaction with his handiwork fled, though, when the head priest turned on him. Although the short man's expression had barely changed, Ba'al felt a sinking sensation as he looked into those dark eyes.

"Lord Ba'al, my name is Thor. I am friend to Lord Jonathan of Neill and I had the honor of tutoring Queen Elizabeth when she was still a child. Speak of the queen in this manner again, and you will find yourself in a situation you shall find most uncomfortable indeed."

In retrospect he could admit his plan had not perhaps been ideal, but every minute was precious, and Ba'al merely nodded towards Master Thor and led the way out of the tent. Behind him the other Goa'uld lords grumbled at his back, but he knew they, at least, would shortly have far greater concerns than punishing him for spreading gossip.

Bastet was furious by the time the Asgard mediators ended the negotiation session. Ba'al's actions, from his abrupt entrance to his taunting of the Caldoran lord, had thrown everything into chaos. She could hardly keep her composure as she and her fellow lords stormed back to their tents. He had been absent from the camp entirely! In the midst of an invasion, he had wandered off to no one knew where and concealed it from the rest of them. Her imagination called forth all manner of schemes and plots the treacherous lord could have been putting into motion while they waited stuck in the wet and the filth of this wretched country, afraid to make a move without him.

The moment they were alone, she let loose her full fury. "What were you thinking, you fool?" she demanded, her tone shrill. "You have been absent all this time, not a word of your intentions or whereabouts and now you appear, looking like this and barge into a delicate negotiation! And then, blatantly insulting the Caldorans, goading them to the point of-"

"There is no time for that," Ba'al cut her off. "There are far more important matters to address than this little squabble with Caldora."

"Really," Apophis said, stalking towards the other lord dangerously. "And just what would those matters be?"

Bastet expected Ba'al to lash out at the snake lord, or to at least unleash his sharp wit, but all he did was glare. For the first time, his appearance truly registered for her. Ba'al was a handsome man, but now he was gaunt and hollowed. That he was covered in dirt and what appeared to be blood and had clearly not bothered to clean himself should have signaled her that something extremely strange was afoot. "No," he snarled at Apophis in a terrifying voice. "I speak of keeping our lands under our own control."

Silence fell in the tent. Yu stood off to the side, watching them with his arms crossed. Apophis and Heru-ur stared at Ba'al incredulously, while Zipacna, who had kept his congenial expression throughout all of the excitement, now suddenly appeared disturbed.

"Osiris is dead," Ba'al continued flatly. "Murdered by his wife, who is long gone. This places his lands into Anubis' hands."

"Impossible," Apophis spat.

Ba'al regarded him calmly. "I have seen the evidence with my own eyes, my lord. When I returned to our territories to discover the truth, it was Jaffa loyal to Anubis who killed my own guards and nearly ended my life."

That explained much. Bastet saw immediately what he meant by more important matters. Osiris, while one of Anubis' tools, had still kept his territory independent of his master's control. His lands were not vast, but they still held a great deal of importance in terms of trade between the other territories. If Anubis had claimed them for his own, then the balance of power had shifted enough that it required their personal attention at once.

"How is it that we did not know of this earlier?" Heru-ur asked suspiciously. "I receive updates frequently from my holdings-"

"Did you not hear me? Anubis is controlling the routes in and out of Goa'uld territory," Ba'al interrupted. His eyes were dark, wrathful. "Anubis is playing us for fools, occupying our attention with an invasion into a country that does not have resources worth conquering, while he plots and moves his own people into key positions. I would not be surprised to learn that this was his aim all along. He and Osiris conspired to push the rest of us into this war and then conveniently neither of them were able to join us."

Bastet had harbored such suspicions herself, and she would have been surprised if Apophis and Yu, at least, had not held similar thoughts. But the reports from their own retainers had indicated nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the reports had been notably bland for some weeks now. She cursed herself for not noticing earlier.

Ba'al continued. "It is also most convenient that Osiris' wife should choose this moment to betray him. It could be she was in the service of Anubis, acting on his orders. It would be a small matter compared to what he has done to the rest of us."

"This is ridiculous," Zipacna finally interjected angrily, drawing their attention to Anubis' representative standing among them. "My lord Anubis has ever been your ally, and now you repay him with such insults? I-"

Bastet watched as Ba'al's hand went to his sword. "Be silent!" he bellowed. "Do you think I am unaware of your part in all of this? Play the little lordling, keep everyone here no matter the cost while your master takes our lands for himself?"

Either stupid or foolish, Zipacna whined at Ba'al, "I am here doing my duty to my lord, overseeing the troops he sacrificed for this great cause and ensuring our full cooperation."

Ba'al took a step forward. "And spying on our efforts and machinations faithfully every step of the way. My First Prime told to me that he caught you in my tent not three days before Anubis' Jaffa nearly took my head. You breached my Jaffa and reported to your master that I was not here."

"What? Preposterous!" But Bastet noted that Zipacna's eyes darted towards the entrance to the tent. Her hand stole towards the dagger hidden at her waist. His denials only cemented her conviction that this fool had been party to Anubis' betrayal from the beginning. They had been stupid to allow Zipacna's prancing behavior to blind them to his true nature. Rage began to simmer in her heart.

"None of the other lords gained entrance to my tent in my absence," Ba'al retorted. "It could only have been you."

Lord Yu stepped forward, towards Zipacna. "Is this true?" he growled.

The other lord looked near to panic. "No! He lies!"

Yu thundered, "You dare to lie to me, boy? I have played this game far longer than you have. You conspire against us, and defile our meeting with the Asgard?"

"What did you think we would do to you when we discovered your duplicity?" Apophis demanded, turning to stand alongside Ba'al.

Zipacna's face contorted into a sneer and he withdrew a blade from the sheath at his side. He spat out a curse at them, which was enough to enrage them all. "Stupid, arrogant fools! My lord is cleverer than all of you combined! He will seize control of all the Goa'uld lands and then conquer at will. He will be greater than any monarch in all of history, and you will be nothing but dust and bone."

He raised his sword to strike at Yu, but Ba'al hit first, his blade sliding smoothly into Zipacna's side. The traitor twisted, attempting to bring his sword around, but Apophis had drawn his own weapon and with a fierce stroke severed the sword and hand from Zipacna's arm.

Bastet closed around the man with Heru-ur. Her dagger plunged into his back, a fitting gesture for this lying scum. Zipacna staggered and Heru-ur shoved the dying lord onto the floor, where he gurgled and writhed for a moment before going still.

They stepped back, wiping off their weapons, glaring at the lifeless body on the ground with contempt. Dealing with the traitor was the easy part.

"Come," Ba'al broke the silence. "We have much to discuss."

The sunset that evening was stunning. Clouds streaked the western sky, tinted pink and grey against a red backdrop. In the east, stars were already beginning to appear in the growing darkness.

John was standing just outside the farrier's workspace, having shed all but his tunic and trousers. He'd forgotten how stifling even early summer was in his homeland. He never thought he would miss the climate of Atlantis, even the bitterness of winter, but the heat was oppressive. Knowing that the entire Goa'uld war camp was now amassed within sight only added to the misery. And the absence of the Tok'ra gnawed at him. John was certain Jack had been truthful, but the Tok'ra had not come yet and John felt sometimes that the entire camp was glaring at him, blaming him for the disappointment of their hopes.

But perhaps it was the events of this afternoon that made him long to be anywhere else just now.

King Henry had not blamed him for losing his temper. Ba'al was clearly baiting him, for reasons none of the Caldoran lords could fathom, but since coming back to Caldora, John had found it almost impossible not to jump to Elizabeth's defense, or defense of his own conduct where she was concerned. He would not soon forget Ba'al's taunting words, nor the rush of anger they ignited in him. It was made all the worse by the fact that his very sensitivity on the subject would probably only add fuel to the spurious rumors about his relationship with her. But he could never sit idly by while anyone cast aspersions on Elizabeth's character.

He turned and watched the farrier shoeing Silvanus, trying not to think of Elizabeth and failing miserably. If he closed his eyes, he could see her kneeling before her cousin, taking the vow of the monarchy, her expression of pure freedom and abandon that morning on the Queen Margaret, the sparkle in her eyes as she laughed at something he'd said...

The pain in her eyes when he left her, right after he'd lost control of himself and kissed her.

The urge to leave and ride north as hard as he could was not lessening, but he had responsibilities here. Elizabeth would never forgive him if he abandoned his people. He would never forgive himself. Caldora was facing another battle, one the army was not ready to fight. After what had occurred during the negotiations today, it was entirely possible that the Goa'uld would seize this as a reason to break off the discussions and launch an attack.

They would overwhelm the Caldorans with numbers, and John suspected they would leave few alive. John had faced death many times in his life, but even his old dreams of seeing his home and his family again during the Ori war paled in the fierceness of his wish to see Elizabeth just one more time.

He heard footsteps, and turned to see Cameron approach him slowly. "What brings you here?" his cousin asked.

"New horseshoes for Silvanus," John explained, nodding at his stallion across the way. "Thought I'd beat the rush."

The younger man paused for a moment. "We're facing another battle, aren't we?" Cameron asked lowly. "Head to head, and soon."

"Two to one." John sighed. "Cameron, if the end comes for me-"

"Don't," Cameron interrupted sharply, recoiling. "You defied fate twice to return home to your people. I do not believe that these filthy snakes can defeat you."

"Cousin, I am not a god," John said, somewhat incredulously. "If I die, I die, and Sheppard is yours."

Cameron subsided a little, though his defiance of that sentiment was still plain. His expression turned sober. "The battle will be upon us before the end of the week," he predicted.

Not knowing how else to respond, John simply said, "Yes."

"The Tok'ra will not be here by then, will they?" Cameron asked, a pain in his voice that made John wince. For all the skill his cousin had shown in the last few weeks, he was still younger and less experienced than John, and it hurt to see the truth break his spirit thus. "We staked everything on the arrival of the Tok'ra, and yet they do not come."

Slowly, John turned and faced north. In the far distance he could make out the dark shapes of the mountains. He ran his hands through his hair. "They are coming, Cameron," he said sadly. "I still believe that."

John saw his own hopelessness reflected in his cousin's eyes as Cameron replied, "But not soon enough."

"No," he said. "Not soon enough."