Stargate SG-1: Trial by Fire: SG1-1 (28 page)

Obviously the priests were wondering the same, and by now
they'd realized they weren't likely to get an answer from him. Then
Fuano reinvented the wheel.

"You!" he snarled, jerking his chin at the Colonel. "Your friend
claims you did not willingly aid the heretics. Prove it to me. Tell
me where they keep their women and children!"

There was a soft intake of breath from Luli's direction, and
Professor Kelly started fidgeting. They both knew. But Luli couldn't
say anything because it wasn't a child's place, and for once in her
life Kelly seemed to have decided to keep her mouth shut. Sam
silently applauded the woman's timing.

The Colonel returned Fuano's stare. "I'd love to, guys, really,
but I have no idea where they are."

"He is lying," croaked Tendao.

"I don't know where they are. I swear."

"You swear?" Fuano asked. "Will you swear by Meleq?"

"Sorry. Can't do that." There was a beat of hesitation, then he
said, "Meleq is a false god."

The Colonel's delivery of bombshells was impeccable, as usual.
The hush was so complete, you could hear the whistle of tree sap
bursting to steam in the fire. A collection of stunned faces gaped
motionless and open-mouthed, each for their own reason. That last part of the message hadn't been addressed to the priests so much as
to Daniel and Teal'c and her. When it mattered, Jack O'Neill rarely
did anything by accident, and he'd just confirmed that Meleq was
a Goa'uld, while ensuring that it wouldn't compromise his team or
the Phrygians who had to be the source of that tidbit. His caution
implied that the Tyreans, or at the very least the priests, were aware
of their deity's pedigree.

Into the quiet a small, high voice whispered, "Traitor!"

The word didn't sound any prettier for coming from the mouth
of a child. Luli had risen, standing by the fire, pale and shaking,
tears running down his cheeks.

"Luli," the Colonel said gently. "Luli, do you want me to lie to
you like these people have -"

"I hate you!"

Colonel O'Neill flinched as though the boy had struck him.
For just a moment a look of helpless, faraway hurt slid across his
face, telling Sam that he wasn't here at all but was reliving another
conversation with another child. Then it was gone, replaced by a
blankness that gave away nothing.

"Son!" Hamilqart had found his voice at last. "Be still! It does
not behoove you to speak!"

"Wait!" snapped Fuano. "Let the boy have his say. His outrage
at the heresy does you credit, Hamilqart. You have raised him well.
Speak, Luli!"

"He" - a thin, dirty finger pointed at the Colonel - "he fought
for the heretics. He killed our soldiers. The Lord Spirit can prove
it. He stopped the fighting."

The Lord Spirit glumly inclined his head, which could have
meant anything.

The boy carried on and dropped his own bombshell. "I will
show you where the women and children are hiding."

"Luli, no!" Jack O'Neill tried to get up and was stopped by two
Temple Guards towering behind him. "Luli, don't do it! You don't
know what -"

"Silence!" shouted Fuano and nodded at the captain of the
Guards. "Take the boy. You and your men will bring back the
traitors' whores and their offspring. They are not to be touched. Yet."

"Kree!" The man's balled fist thumped against his chest. Then
he grabbed Luli's shoulder and led the weeping child away.

Kree?

He wasn't a Jaffa, Sam was sure of it. She had sensed no
symbiote. So why the charade? The Guards were beloved by the
spirits Daniel had said. Did that mean they were Jaffa trained?
Possibly. And what were they going to do to the women and
children?

The children. That was what scared Colonel -

"I say kill them all!" Tendao cawed again.

This time it didn't sound like the impatient, vaguely humorous
ramblings of an old man. He was deadly serious, and Fuano
seemed in agreement with him. The priest's eyes slowly wandered
to Tertius and the Colonel.

"My friend Tendao is right. Your crimes deserve nothing less
than death. I therefore decree that -"

"Fuano!"

Daniel had leaped to his feet. The cool light of the evening made
him look white as a ghost, and he took a few unsteady steps towards
the priests' sedan chairs, trying to conceal the tremor of his hands.
He was bartering for lives now, and he knew it.

"Fuano. Do you really wish to usurp the Lord Meleq's rights?"

The priest squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

Sam might have asked the same question. She had no idea what
Daniel was talking about, but she hoped to hell that he did.

"It is the Lord Meleq alone who can purify these men. Do you
intend to arrogate the right of a god? Or is it that you wish to rob
the Lord Meleq of the glory of returning the traitors to the path of
righteousness?"

Unless she was mistaken, Fuano had just gone a whole shade
paler. The notion of inadvertently peeing into the Lord Meleq's
pool obviously didn't appeal to him.

"What would you know of Purification?"

"What every true disciple of Meleq knows," Dr. Jackson replied
unctuously and left it at that.

Translated into plain English that meant squat. Terrific. If Hamilgart's account of the last Purification was anything to go by,
Daniel had just shunted the Colonel and his Phrygian pals from
the frying pan into the fire. On the other hand, the fire was located
in Tyros and required something in the way of ceremony, both of
which bought them time. Time they wouldn't have if the priests
opted for summary execution.

"Very well," said Fuano. "We shall take them to the temple. All
of them."

Tendao nodded, an ugly little grin on his wizened face.

aturally it was the Romans who'd invented body-length
mirrors. First century AD. In consequence she was stuck with
this handheld ladle of polished bronze. But it was a small price to
pay for being back in the safe comforts of Hamilgart's house.

Dr. Kelly furtively checked if anyone was watching her, wishing
they hadn't decided to convene their plenary meeting in her room.
She'd protested, to which the Carter girl had replied that this was
the easiest way of making sure that Professor Kelly wouldn't go
exploring again. As if this whole thing was her fault. She certainly
hadn't asked O'Neill to go snooping around the temple. As a matter
of fact, she distinctly remembered telling him to leave her to her
own devices. And now they blamed her. Well, let them. She checked
again. The girl was sitting cross-legged on Kelly's bed, pretending
to work on her laptop. In reality, she stared holes into the wall. The
alien sat beneath a window, knotted into an alien approximation of
the lotus seat and mouthing a mantra that presumably wasn't Om.

She angled the mirror upside down over her shoulder, stood on
tiptoe, twisted a little, arched backwards, and craned her neck, and
thus could just about catch glimpse of her derriere. Purple didn't
flatter her at all. But Lady Ayzebel had very kindly procured the
garment, and it was better than that infernal stola Round Rosy had
foisted on her. Kelly wasted a brief thought on what might have
happened to the woman and whether she had escaped into the cave
system under the mountain or was among those the Tyrean soldiers
had captured.

The passengers had been divided up between the three ships
in a rather inconsiderate way. Kelly herself, Jackson, the girl,
and this Tea-ugh had been relegated to that battered galley and
into the custody of the Temple Guards. The priests and Luli and
Hamilgart and the children had been on one of the battleships; and
the prisoners, including O'Neill and the Roman leader on the other.
She'd found this singularly annoying, because she'd planned to put
the journey to good use and interrogate O'Neill on his initiation into the cult of Mithras. It had to be fascinating stuff. If she played
her cards right there'd be a book in it. But as it happened, none of
them had been given a chance to talk to him after the council in the
olive grove had concluded.

She took another skewed glance in the mirror and wondered
whether the fit would improve if she tucked up the robe at the
shoulders. In mid-contortion the door flew open and Jackson came
bounding into the room, displaying the motoric skills of a young
Mastiff. Slightly larger than usual and with less slobber. The girl
shot to her feet, and the alien's eyes slitted open.

"Can't you knock?" barked Kelly, nearly dropping the mirror
and uncoiling discreetly.

Grinning from ear to ear, he skidded to a stop in the middle of
the room. "Sorry, Professor!"

Tea-ugh rose, walked past him, poked his head through the
doorway, and gazed up and down the arcade. Then he pushed the
door to and remained posted there like a footman.

"Well?" asked the girl... Beg pardon, the astrophysicist.

"Hamilgart just got back." Jackson flung himself onto the bed,
crumpling the linen even more and bouncing the laptop into a little
hop.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry."

"So? What did he say?"

"Nothing much until the servants took off. Once they were
gone, I just about backed him into the pool and casually mentioned
the Lady Ayzebel's little indiscretion. After that, he got downright
garrulous."

"Daniel! Is there a point?"

"From what he told me, they must be a hair away from closing
the temple for overcrowding. The priests took everybody up there,
which pretty much is what we've figured anyway. Half the kids are
two to a monk's cell, and -"

"So it should be fairly easy to break the Colonel out of there?"

His effusiveness suffered a sudden dampener. "Well... No. It's
only the kids they keep in the open, and they're pretty heavily
guarded. Apparently those who've been with the Phrygians" - he cast a quick glimpse at Kelly and corrected himself - "the Romans,
I mean, are less than thrilled by the prospect of becoming servants
of the Lord Meleq. Can't say I blame them. Anyway, they've got
some sort of a holding area for Purification candidates, but that's
in the interior of the temple. Hamilgart wouldn't tell me specifics,
except that you've got to be the Invisible Man to get in there."

"Crap," muttered the girl, not ladylike but with feeling. "Will
they let us use the `gate?"

"No way." Young Jackson shook his head emphatically.
"Hamilgart almost fainted when I brought it up. The only one
permitted to operate the gate is Kandaulo, for anyone else to do so
would be heresy, yadda-yadda."

"You mean we've got to ask nicely if Kandaulo will open the
door for us?"

"Basically yes, but he won't. I think they suspect us of aiding
and abetting. In other words, we're under house arrest until the
festivities are over."

"Excuse me?"

"Hamilgart didn't say it in so many words, but I've seen soldiers
outside."

"Great!"

Sighing, the girl flopped down next to him and rubbed a fist
across her forehead. The silence stretched, until Dr. Kelly decided
it was time to admit that she couldn't see what they were getting so
worked up about. Clearly some expert advice was called for. She
crossed to a chair and sat, hands folded in her lap.

"Look, I really think you should leave well enough alone. All
this talk about prison breaks... We need to respect these people's
traditions, and I can assure you this Purification is nothing to worry
about. In Phoenician ritual it simply means an ablution with scented
water under the supervision of a priest."

"That's not how Hamilgart describes it," Jackson objected
stubbornly. "The last guys to be purified didn't survive the
experience."

"Balderdash! I suggest you look up Maximilian Krahwinkle on
Ancient Middle-Eastern Ritual. It's all there."

"Professor! This isn't a lecture or a book or some theoretical construct. It's real. Haven't you noticed by now?"

"Of course it's real. I'm not stupid! But these Phoenicians
correspond to what we know of the ones on Earth. Peace-loving.
Devout. Merchants, not conquerors. Their god Meleq is -"