Chapter 4

Rodney blinked back tears as he was dragged out into the open again, the sack suddenly snatched from his head to expose his eyes to the brilliance of a Medulsan sunset.

'Was that really necessary?' he ranted the very moment his gag was removed, fear making his anger override his common sense. 'I mean, did you really have to shove us in that hole? Do you have any idea how cramped it is in there?'

A stocky red-head slapped him hard, just once, a strike brutal enough to silence his prattling. 'Yes I do,' she replied, matter-of-fact. 'I dug it. You think it was bad for you...just imagine how cramped it was to work in.'

'Well...when you put it that way...' he mumbled, glancing over at Ford, who just shook his head and rolled his eyes. Okay, so mouthing off under the circumstances hadn't been his smartest move, but he couldn't help it. When he was agitated, he shouted. It was just the way he was wired.

'Back in the hut,' the woman ordered, grabbing his upper arm in a steely grip and spinning him in the right direction.

'Ouch! Just be careful. I have very delicate skin!' he protested, earning himself a slap around the back of his head this time.

He bit his tongue and refrained from complaining again, tripping up the steps to the hut and grazing his knees as he hit the floor of their dingy dormitory. The door slammed shut behind them.

'So is this it?' Ford asked him. 'Is this the extent of our punishment? They're gonna herd us from one stinking hideout to another?'

'No...no...I don't think so,' McKay mused, staggering to the fetid mattress he'd woken on earlier and peeling back his filthy garb to rub his bruised kneecaps. 'Oh, would you look at that. They're probably dislocated!'

'McKay, focus!'

McKay couldn't help but feel mildly insulted that a grunt had just told him to concentrate, but he supposed Ford had a point. He did need to stop worrying about the various injuries he was collecting. None of them were life threatening, unless the fall into the pit had left him with internal injuries...come to think of it, he did have a nagging pain near his right kidney region. No... no, he really couldn't allow his imagination to take him there right now. He was not dying, no matter how much his body hurt. 'They're...they're hiding us,' he muttered, the reality unravelling in his mind as he spoke. 'They think if they keep us out of sight for long enough Atlantis will give up the search.'

'They won't do that,' Ford asserted, setting his jaw. 'They won't leave us behind.'

'Really?' McKay snorted, his natural pessimism winning out. 'And if they come back time and again for weeks and months and never find us, do you think they'll keep trying then?'

'But they know we came here.'

'They know we dialled the planet, but they don't know we actually made it through,' Rodney corrected. 'There could have been a 'gate malfunction...or a...a solar flare. We could be on another planet in another time for all they know...or dead even.'

'So you're saying they will give up?'

'Well...not if they really think about it. We're all still aware of the plan to meet Sarayah and get her to Guedeseo...at least I am and so I assume is Major Sheppard. If we get lost here and fail to do that this wouldn't be happening because she wouldn't have gone back in time to the SGC where you first heard about her. I just don't know if they'll figure that out.'

'But we have to get to the point where the mission's a definite fail first, right?' Ford asked.

'What? No, it doesn't work that way...we can only be aware of one existence so this is the one that's still happening.'

'That's what I mean...we still have a chance at this point, but we could still fail in the future.'

'No, because that would change the past and this present wouldn't...' Rodney realised he was wasting his breath. In all honesty, he couldn't be sure how it all worked himself, he could only hypothesise, not that any kind of guessing was getting them any closer to home. Then he remembered something even more worrying than his current predicament. 'Oh, no!'

Ford suddenly looked less angry and more worried. 'What? What is it?'

'I just remembered that in a few days none of this is gonna matter because the Wraith are heading this way and unless I fix this planet's defences, we're all gonna be served up for dinner.'

'The Wraith...they're headed here!' Ford's eyes widened with a mixture of horror and rage. 'And you didn't think that was information worth sharing before now?'

Rodney rolled his eyes at Ford's indignation. 'Well, I didn't think it was important until we got caught. We should have been in and out even easier than it happened the first time with the gift of Sheppard's foresight. But now...now everything's different.'

'Except the Wraith are still coming,' Ford pointed out.

'Yes...I don't need you to remind me how seriously screwed we are, thank you, Lieutenant!' Rodney snapped, raking his hand back through his hair and slapping himself in the face with the chain between his wrists in the process. 'Ow! We...we have to get out of here. That's the only way we're gonna be able to fix the machine. Maybe if we explain to these women how important it is they'll let us go look at it.'

Ford arched an eyebrow doubtfully. 'I don't know, McKay. I don't get the impression they're about to listen to anything we have to say.'

'No...no...you're wrong about that. Sheppard said he managed to talk one of them round to help him last time once she understood about the threat of the Wraith and the fact we could help them. Maybe we can do the same thing now.'

'Yeah...maybe.'

McKay didn't need a degree in psychology to tell the man wasn't convinced. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn't convinced by his argument either. Sheppard had a certain charm with the ladies he didn't possess himself. 'Or maybe Sheppard can work his magic again...women seem to like him, right?'

Now Ford rolled his eyes. 'I think it's gonna take a little more than a few kind words and smiles to charm these ladies, McKay.'

'Yeah...you may be right.'

'Did you get the name of the woman who helped him?'

The name? Crap! Sheppard had mentioned it but names never stuck in his memory long. 'Errr...no!'

'Well that's just great,' Ford huffed, dropping onto his bed. 'How are we supposed to find her if you don't even know what she's called?'

The door suddenly opened, interrupting their argument, and three women stamped into the room, one of them unlocking their cuffs while another threw a pile of shabby clothes at their feet. 'Time for your evening meal, though it may not be up to your usual standards,' the red-head sneered, grabbing McKay's arms and pulling him toward the door.

'I don't suppose any of you ladies would be interested in hearing that the Wraith are coming to kill you all unless you let us fix a protection device on your planet?' Rodney ventured, already knowing the answer.

'I don't suppose we would,' she replied, still watching them. 'We've been warned about your lies.'

'Okay...worth a shot,' he whined, glancing at Ford. The young lieutenant just rolled his eyes once then allowed himself to be dragged toward the door.

So they were about to get fed – things were looking up because he was absolutely starving. Unless, of course, their people were partial to citrus. For the first time in his life he found himself hoping the old bread and water cliché might be true.

oooOOOooo

By the time Teyla was pulled back out of the hole she'd been bundled into she was losing her normal composure. There had been no explanation for the treatment, she'd simply been gagged, blinded by a sack and then steered down into the underground hidey-hole where she had remained for what felt like a quite considerable length of time.

'What do you hope to gain from this?' she demanded, pulling against the two women forcing her back toward the hut. 'You cannot keep me hidden forever. My people will come looking for me until I am found.'

'Not if we keep hiding you,' the tall blonde told her with a patronising smirk.

'You have no idea how determined they can be,' Teyla warned them as she stumbled up the three steps that led into the sleeping area again. 'And no idea of the trouble you are bringing upon yourselves either. The people I travelled here with came to our galaxy in the spirit of friendship and exploration, but they are a formidable race. You do not want to make enemies of them.'

The two women holding her exchanged a glance, and then burst out laughing. 'We'll try not to lose any sleep over that, little one,' the other one, a stocky brunette chuckled. 'Come, Gilea. Let's hide before her frightening comrades return.'

Teyla watched them both head for the door and slam it, locking it behind them.

She stared at it a while, her temper broiling and threatening to unleash itself in an act of destruction on the scruffy bed standing beside her...until the blankets moved. The slamming of the door seemed to herald an unexpected wave of movement throughout the room, in fact. Almost as one, the blankets were thrown back on several beds, masses of young boys coming out of hiding now their gaolers had left the building.

On seeing Teyla, many of them gasped in fear and tugged the blankets up to their chins. But others, noticing her chains, braved further exposure and climbed out of their beds, cautiously approaching her.

'Have you come to work here with us?' one small boy asked.

'I...I do not know,' she confessed, offering up a smile. 'I am not meant to be here at all, and I have friends who will be looking for me.'

'I hope they find you,' a weak and slightly croaky voice replied from somewhere further back in the room.

'I hope so, too,' she said to the room as a whole, as other children emerged from beneath their covers and approached her. 'And if they do, I feel sure they will want to help you also.'

'Will they make the women be nicer to us?' one particularly bony little boy asked, gazing up at her with his left eye surrounded by fading bruises.

' I hope they will be able to do far more than that,' Teyla sighed, resting her hand gently on his shoulder, feeling a surge of pity and anger when he flinched as if he'd thought she was going to strike him.

Feeling a tug on the back of her jacket, Teyla turned to find a tiny young boy trying to gain her attention. She turned, unable to suppress the smile his huge brown eyes brought to her face.

'What's your name?' he asked.

'I am Teyla,' she told him. 'And what are you called?'

'I don't have a name. We're not given names until we're older,' he told her.

Teyla felt as if her heart might break. Choosing a child's name was a carefully considered decision among Athosians, the importance of preserving many traditional family names by passing them on through the generations imparted to all members of Athosian society from a very early age. The thought that these children were considered so valueless enraged and saddened her at the same time.

She knelt before the small boy and took his hands in hers. 'No name? Well, that will not do. I shall give you a name. I think I shall call you Halling. That is the name of a very dear friend of mine, and I think you and I will also be good friends.'

A toothy grin almost split the young boy's face in half, and without a moment of hesitation, he threw his arms around her neck to a chorus of gasps from the other boys there.

Teyla returned the embrace, looking up at the others. 'It is all right. I am not like the other women you have known. Halling will not be punished for this.'

She saw the fear slowly leave their expressions, to be replaced by hope.

'Could I have a name, too?' a boy she guessed to by around ten years old asked her.

'Yes, of course. I have many friends who I know would be honoured to share their names with you.'

He gazed at her intently, his hazel-green eyes burning into hers from beneath dark, matted hair. 'So what will you call me?'

There was only one name that sprang to mind. 'John,' she told him. 'You shall be called John.'

And to the sound of over a dozen more requests for names she vowed then and there that she would save this John, just as she would somehow find a way to save the man who had inspired her choice in names for him.

oooOOOooo

There was no way of knowing exactly how long he'd been out when Sheppard woke later that evening, and he cursed himself for falling asleep. Though he couldn't judge the passage of time totally accurately, if he'd stayed awake he might have had a better measure of how far into the night he now was. Because he had no concept of how long he'd slept, he had no idea if it had been dark for half an hour or three hours or even more, and so no way of knowing if Sarayah was likely to be sleeping.

So he relied on his senses, listening for any sounds of activity, either inside the house or outside in the village itself. He gave it a few minutes, breathing as quietly as he could so he didn't miss a single noise. Outside was silent, but somewhere in the house he could hear breathing quite apart from his own, steady and rhythmic, the sound of someone sleeping. This was his time. He had to act now since he had no idea how much night time was left before he lost the advantage the darkness would afford him.

Searching out the tiny sliver of metal Kaymah had given him, Sheppard slid it free of his rope belt and began to prod around with it until he found a hole in his right cuff and pushed it in, praying he didn't lose his grip on it and drop the metal in the virtually impenetrable dark of his new bedroom. After several frustrating moments of wriggling the metal in the lock he heard a satisfying click and felt his cuff loosen. He pulled his wrist free, flinching as his chain swung away and the cuff hit the wall behind him, jangling the links. Sheppard held his breath, not daring to move, listening out for any sign that his housemate was on the move. Only after several minutes of inactivity did he dare sit up and resume his efforts on his left cuff. The sense of relief he felt as the second band released, instantly alleviating the stinging sensation in his wrist where the cuff had grazed his skin was gratifying, but he didn't allow himself any real sense of relief until his ankle bracelets were off too, and the leather collar unstrapped. Now he was free to make his escape attempt. If he recalled, SGA3 were currently off-world on some kind of botanist baby-sitting mission. He could travel to M3B 298 and meet up with them to head back to Atlantis and let them know what had happened, then come back with a rescue team. The thought it was too different to what had happened originally briefly formed in his mind, but he chose to ignore it. Nothing so far had gone according to his memories; he doubted reforming the Medulsan society through some different means really mattered now, as long as the end result was the same.

He crept to the doorway of his room, thankful to leave his stinking and uncomfortable bedding behind him. The stone tiles were refreshingly cool beneath his feet, the house itself retaining much of the heat built up during the day even at this late hour. He padded softly through the passage between his room and the others, stopping momentarily at a doorway when he realised Sarayah slept in the bed that lay beyond it. Even from that distance he could smell the alcohol on her. She reeked like she'd been marinated in that disgusting wine she'd forced on him. For the briefest of seconds he considered creeping in there and throttling her with his bare hands, but he fought that thought down, too. She had to stay alive. He had to walk away.

So he headed straight on past his sleeping captor, on through the kitchen and out through the door, sticking close to the wall of the building while gauging the situation and planning his best strategy for escape. The village was quiet...silent...maybe too silent. His spidey senses told him his escape had been way too easy, that this had all been staged somehow, and he felt a prickle ripple up his spine as he looked around at the eerily familiar surroundings apparently completely unguarded while everyone slept.

The way things had happened in his visions had shown him he'd spent very little time in this part of Medulsa, but in the moonlight he could see the wooden block that sat near the centre of the village, the one used to carry out punishment for the gravest shows of disrespect from their suppressed male populace. He recalled rescuing Balfor, and wondered if the old man was up in the prison encampment still alive. His insult had been against Allanae, and since she was dead, perhaps he hadn't committed the crime. He hoped he was right and there was still a chance to give him the life he deserved.

So now he had a choice. He could head for the 'gate as originally planned, ignoring his gut instinct that something was off, or he could wait it out and hope whoever or whatever was about to strike made a wrong move. Figuring he might not have that kind of time on his side, he forged on with his original plan, clinging close to buildings and using their form and shadows as a shield until he was at the edge of the developed area, and only an expanse of clearing lay between him and the tree line that encompassed the village. He would need to break cover to cross that ground. But did he dare? The punishment for getting caught trying to escape certainly made him think twice.

Focus, John, he ordered himself. Things are different this time. Maybe you'll make it. It has to be worth the risk.

So he took a deep breath and went for it, almost instantly skidding to a halt when he heard a gun cock just a little way behind him.

He turned slowly, hands raised, expecting to see Sarayah standing in his wake. Instead he found Kaymah holding him at gun point. 'Well, well. Seems our pet has broken free of his leash,' she hissed, sauntering toward him.

Great, another game player. That was all he needed. 'If I remember rightly, you helped to let me off it,' he replied, lowering his hands.

'I'm sorry...I don't recall that.' The arch of her eyebrow and curl of her lips told him she was enjoying this just as much as Sarayah would. But since Sarayah had probably mentored her, that really was no great surprise.

'And I suppose all that talk about wanting revenge for Allanae's death was a pile of crap too, was it?' he asked, letting his anger take him there.

She shook her head, looking puzzled. 'I don't recall that, either,' she told him.

Biting back his initial urge to call her every name under the sun and then some, Sheppard kept it to a rather more sedate, 'You should get that memory of yours checked out. It could be early dementia.'

'My mind is perfectly sound,' she assured him. 'Now come back to the village without any further trouble and I'll make sure your punishment for harming our leader is swift and relatively painless.'

He knew what that meant. She thought he was for the block. 'Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but your leader is sleeping soundly in her bed completely unharmed, aside from maybe a hangover...'

He watched her eyes narrow in the moonlight as she thought through what she'd just heard. 'But I told you to disable her to ensure your escape. I specifically told you to do that.'

'Sorry, lady, but I sometimes have trouble following orders from my actual superiors, so I'm not about to take them from someone like you.'

She narrowed her dark brown eyes again, levelling her gun at his face as she walked even closer. 'That's not how this was supposed to happen.'

'No, I get that. I was supposed to kill or maim her to exact some kind of revenge you're too scared to take for yourself, and then I was supposed to die. Two birds with one stone. Well, welcome to my world, 'cos nothing here is happening how I thought it would either.'

She frowned, puzzled. 'What does this have to do with birds...or stones?'

He rolled his eyes; sometimes he forgot these humans weren't quite as Earth-like as they looked. 'It means you solve two problems with one action. You want to punish Sarayah and kill me, right?'

'You will bring about our downfall. I see no reason why you should live.'

There was a slight tremble in her hand as she levelled that weapon, now only inches from his face. She was frightened of him, or at least of what he supposedly represented. Sarayah had convinced them he would destroy them if they allowed him to – no wonder she wanted him out of the picture.

'Whatever she told you about me was a lie. I'm not here to destroy you,' he told her, trying to win her over. 'I'm here to put things straight, to set all the things right that she's messing up with her so-called premonitions. She's screwing around with your lives.'

'Lies!' Kaymah hissed, her eyes now glistening with anxiety and mistrust. 'Sarayah told us you would say these things.'

'Did she now? Well, she would, wouldn't she? She wants to keep me here and she needs your help to make sure I stay put. She'll tell you anything to stop you people from listening to me.'

'She told us you would say that, too.'

Sheppard let out a deep sigh and gave an exaggerated shrug. 'Okay, I give up. If you think I'm so damn dangerous, I guess you should just shoot me now.'

He was calling her bluff, at least he hoped he was. The tell-tale tremble, the glistening eyes, the pitch and cadence of her voice...she was too much of a coward to kill him. Sarayah's wrath was too frightening a prospect for her to face.

'Return to the house!' she ordered, her tone just the wrong side of nervous.

'No can do,' he told her with another casual shrug. 'Once I start something, I kinda have to see it through. It's a little habit I've formed.'

The hand trembled again, her eyes darting away and then back to him. 'You must...'

Sheppard made a big show of sighing once more, then planted his hands on his hips. 'So, are you gonna shoot me, 'cos if not, I have somewhere else to be.'

'I will shoot,' she insisted, practically jabbing the barrel of her gun into his nose.

Without missing a beat, Sheppard sprang into action. He knocked the gun away with his left hand, followed through with a right jab, and when Kaymah fell backwards to the ground he stamped on her wrist and plucked the gun from her grasp. She only managed one quick squeal before he covered her mouth and stifled any more cries.

Kneeling over her, he rasped, 'Next time you decide to go poke a gun in someone's face you'd better make sure you have the moves to follow it up.'

She squealed and squirmed, and beyond her, he saw the first sign of a light in one of the windows. 'Ah, great,' he hissed, 'you've gone and woken the natives!'

Pulling his hand back only long enough to punch her again and leave her too stunned to speak or follow, Sheppard darted for the trees and the cover they would afford him. He was acutely aware of how slow his progress was due to his lack of shoes, but that had been the point of stripping him of footwear. Escape wouldn't be based on speed, but on his ability to avoid detection. So he concentrated on moving quietly, fighting down a surge of alarm at the raised voices now emanating from the village behind him. He spared just a second to peer back through the trees to judge how to go on, seeing flickering flames through the trunks. They were coming after him by torchlight like the vengeful villagers in an old vampire movie. Great. They'd probably burn him alive when they got hold of him. Maybe stab him with pitchforks, too. That would cap this experience nicely.

Digging deep, he set off again, gritting his teeth against the various obstacles his feet unfailingly stumbled upon. It was all he could do not to cry out loud as he stepped on stones and thorns while slipping from one trunk to another, those torches getting closer all the time. He wondered if he really could lose them out here. The jumper was some two hundred yards out of the other side of this woodland and there was no way he could cross that open ground unseen. But they wouldn't just give up. They would comb these woods until they forced him out of hiding. So he had to get to the outskirts and hope they didn't find him there, and perhaps, with a little luck, headed in another direction to give him enough space to make a run for it. But he didn't have a lot of faith in luck since it had a habit of evaporating whenever Sarayah was around. This one was all down to him.

The voices were gaining ground with alarming speed now, making Sheppard slow down to avoid detection. Firelight sent an orange glow creeping ever closer across the ground at his battered feet. He shied away from the illumination, clinging to the shadows those gigantic, almost prehistoric trees provided. Within a few more minutes his pursuers were on top of him, literally the breadth of those tree trunks the only thing separating him from some of them as they wound their way through the forest in search of him.

Heart thundering, Sheppard knew his chances of success were narrowing all the time. The women were closing in on him. He had a gun, so he could start shooting, but what if he hit and killed Sarayah? That was one mistake he really couldn't afford to make. But they didn't have to know he wouldn't fire it.

Unfortunately, the other mistake he couldn't afford to make was assuming that everyone hunting him was carrying a torch to light their way. As he circled another tree trunk, using it to shield himself from the nearest hunters, something made thudding contact with his jaw, setting him on his butt amongst the moss and tree roots.

'I have him,' a familiar voice yelled, making his brain thump with the sheer volume of it as he was snatched up by the tunic and hauled to his feet again. Before it even fully registered that he was now in Alishia's grips, he was surrounded by hissing, spitting harpies, all of them keen for a piece of him. Fingers clawed at his clothes and skin, seams and frayed fabric popping under the strain as they pushed and pulled him and eventually wrestled him to his knees. His arms were pulled out straight at his sides, his head pushed forward, and then he felt the unmistakable pressure of a cold metal gun barrel pressed to the nape of his neck.

'Wait...wait!' he choked into his chest. 'Don't do this...you need me to help you.'

His head was wrenched back as far as his neck would bend, and he found himself looking up into Kaymah's hard, brown eyes. 'Why? To save us from the Wraith?' she sneered.

'And from Sarayah. You know she shouldn't be in charge here, and she'll destroy all of you if you leave her in power.'

The harshness of her expression melted for just a second as if she sensed some truth in his words, then she checked herself, forcing his head forward again and pushing the barrel against his sticky skin. 'Lies!' she charged.

'Hold!' That was Alishia. Surely she could bring a voice of reason to all this. 'We cannot kill him without Sarayah's express instructions.'

'I need no such instruction...he's broken the laws of our village. He's attempted escape, and he assaulted me to do it. It's death to any man who raises a hand against us.'

'No...this one is different,' Alishia insisted, thankfully fighting his corner. 'Sarayah wants him to live in captivity to punish him for his planned crimes against us, just as the scriptures foretold.'

'The scriptures?' Kaymah sneered, huffing out a laugh. 'Of course we have to obey the scriptures. So I'm to have no justice?' She kicked his back in frustration and sent him spilling to the floor, his mouth filling with dirt and dry leaves.

'What if Sarayah is wrong about keeping him alive, no matter what those scriptures tell us?' he heard someone else say. 'If he's dangerous we should kill him before he can bring harm on the village.'

'Sarayah has never led us wrong...we should continue to trust her,' Alishia insisted, snatching the gun from Kaymah, though she met with some resistance. 'We will await her instructions.'

The women were still crowding in on him. Sheppard could see their feet edging closer by the light of their torches. A couple of them even kicked him, leaving the left side of his ribs stinging from the contact.

'We should kill him now before Sarayah can tell us otherwise, then we'll be safe,' Kaymah pronounced, gaining a cheer of support from the crowd around him. 'Maybe whoever wrote those scriptures didn't know the future as well as Sarayah does.'

'This goes against Medulsan law,' Alishia argued. 'Sarayah has to pronounce sentence and it is fulfilled according to our customs, not in chaos and disorder.'

'He tried to kill me...we know what his sentence should be. We don't need Sarayah to confirm it,' Kaymah growled back at her. 'The laws of our village are clear.' And then the others were grabbing at him again, punching him and spitting on him as he did his best to curl up against the blows. They didn't need Kaymah's gun to kill him. These freaks would happily shred him with their bare hands.

'Leave him be!'

Sheppard had never thought he would be happy to hear Sarayah's voice, but the sense of relief that rushed through him as everyone stepped back and stopped pummelling him was greater than he would ever willingly let her know. Two of his captors pulled him into a kneeling position and stretched his arms out at his sides again as the others withdrew. They held him there, pinned on his knees before her as Sarayah took his chin in her hand and lifted his face so she could see it more clearly. His cheekbone stung, no doubt due to his untimely introduction to the forest floor a few moments ago, but the other blows had mostly been to his body and so didn't show except for through the various tears in his clothing.

'I told you all, this one is to live,' she growled, her eyes drinking in his features, grazes and all. 'Have you no respect for my word?

'He assaulted Kaymah. They felt it right to enact the laws,' Alishia explained in a clear attempt to diffuse Sarayah's anger.

'Out here and without my authority?'

Absolute silence.

Sarayah released her grip on him and looked around at them, her temper barely in check. 'The death penalty does not apply to this one, you have already been told that! The lost scriptures say he must live.'

Sheppard felt the tension amongst the other women, their doubt hanging thick in the air. But no one dared question her.

Finally, Alishia broke the strained hush. 'Should we return him to the village now to face punishment for escaping? He has to take at least take ten lashes for that.' Sheppard peered at her from the corner of his eye. The way she looked at Sarayah as she said that suggested she was trying to guide her and save some of the supposed faith of her people that was currently slipping through her fingers.

'It should be more...he also has to be punished for assaulting me,' Kaymah insisted.

'Well, if you hadn't helped me get out I wouldn't have been able to,' Sheppard growled, earning a slap from Alishia.

'Silence, beast!' Kaymah ordered, her expression nothing short of murderous.

Someone pushed through to the front of the crowd now and handed something to Sarayah. It didn't take long before Sheppard knew what it was. She fastened the leather collar around his neck again, locked on a chain, and then ordered him to his feet. He did as he was told, realising now was definitely not the time to flex his ego. He was already in trouble; if he pushed these women he would only make matters worse for himself.

And so, clothes torn and flesh battered, Sheppard allowed Sarayah to lead him away, tugging hard on his leash to make her point about who was in charge. Panic churned in his gut, driven by fear of the pain that was coming. He was mad with himself for falling foul of Kaymah's trick, for believing it would be that easy to find an ally when Sarayah had spent so long telling them he was their downfall. She'd had a lot longer to prepare for this than he had; he had to be smarter than this.

But what he hadn't expected was to become a pawn in some kind of Medulsan chick fight, and he tried to take his mind off what lay ahead by planning how he could use that to his advantage. Not everyone was as onside as Sarayah believed them to be. That had to work to his advantage...didn't it?

Those thought were abruptly ended as he once again found his senses completely overwhelmed by the clamour and the hatred seething from the people pushing in on him as he was led away. He stumbled as a stone slammed into his right temple, dropping to one knee and then forward even further onto his face as the leash pulled him off balance. Sarayah stopped briefly and he felt hands grasping at him, tugging at his skin and clothes until he was once more vertical and back on his way.

But on his way to what?

A/N I'm afraid it will be a full week before I can get another chapter of this story up for you as I am going away for a few days soon. Thanks to everyone who had left reviews so far. Hearing your thoughts makes the effort even more worthwhile. So if you enjoy this chapter please let me know! :)