Chapter 4

Back at the village, Sheppard and his team found more food waiting for them, which Rodney tucked into with great vigour. Being nervous made him hungry, that much the rest of the team knew only too well, having heard his 'hypoglycaemia' rant on more occasions than they cared to remember. While he was eating he couldn't complain about how long it had been since he'd last eaten, so they let his fill his mouth without complaint.

Sheppard sat beside him, watching him force food in so quickly he suspected he might be crossed with a snake, his jaw seemingly expanding to take in food much greater in volume than his throat should have been able to swallow. He briefly visualised the scientist trying to swallow a baby hippo, just like he'd seen a particularly huge snake do in a video on YouTube once, then wondered if the drugs were still having more of an effect on him than he'd realised. He hoped so, either that or the pressure was getting to him.

Ronon, too, ate well, but Sheppard suspected his motivation was very different. The Satedan was picking obvious energy foods, preparing his body in case they had to fight their way out of the village. Teyla was her usual inscrutable self and ate calmly, her demeanour giving away nothing of her discomfort with the situation. Teyla was good at that kind of thing. Calm and serene one moment, she could be taking your head off with a Bantos stick in the next. He suddenly found himself wondering if she would make a good poker partner...he'd definitely want her on his side, that was for sure.

For his own part, Sheppard stuck to sipping water and picking at bread again. It was doughy and tasted slightly sour, but it took the edge off his hunger. Lifting the bowl was tricky since there was barely an inch of his skin that didn't hurt or itch, and he wished he didn't feel so thirsty so he didn't have to keep drinking.

Beside him, Rodney stopped picking up food long enough to begin swallowing what was in his mouth, hitching up his trouser leg and exposing his pale, fleshy calf. 'Oh would you look at that!' he grouched, spitting crumbs and rubbing at the small lump on his leg. 'I think it may be getting infected.'

Sheppard frowned over at him, wondering if that was meant as some kind of sick joke, but realising it was just yet another of Rodney's inappropriate reactions to a situation, which seemed to increase in proportion with his nervousness. 'Oh, man. That must really sting,' he drawled, not taking his eyes off him.

'Like you wouldn't belie –' Rodney stopped and flicked his gaze up to Sheppard's. 'Oh...right.' He let his trouser leg slide back down and started eating again.

'So, what's the final trial, Untooka?' Sheppard finally built up the courage to ask. Thoughts of unspeakable acts had been racing through his head since he'd made his escape from the mascala and he really needed to put himself out of his misery.

'You have to prove you are at one with nature, that you can harness its speed and strength and bend it to your will.'

The man's deep brown eyes looked wistful as he thought about the task ahead of them. The description hadn't given Sheppard much of a clue and he was about to ask for more details when Teyla stepped in and did just that.

'And just what will that trial entail,' she asked, looking genuinely enthralled.

'In a while, the harama herd will pass close by on the plains. To prove his worth, Sheppard must harness one and bring it under his control. They are tempestuous beasts, but to be my daughter's partner, he must find a way to tame it.'

What none of his friends knew was that as a younger man, Sheppard had helped break spirited horses on his father's ranch. Dave had been too chicken to have a go, declaring it "fool's work", but the task had fed Sheppard's almost incessant need for thrills. So, if the haramas were something like horses, he was set. If they were something like horses.

'How long do we have?' he asked, glancing at his watch. It read 1637 Atlantis time; if they could get off this messed up planet soon he might still get to drown his sorrows while it was his fortieth. That was, of course, if he could avoid a lengthy stay in the infirmary. So far, his injuries were minor, so a quick once over, something to sooth the bites, and he'd be good to go. Although some of them were beginning to swell rather alarmingly...

The natives kept them entertained in the interim with music and dance. Evidently, they were feeling a hell of a lot more energetic than he was, because they kept the pace up for hours, while Sheppard had yet more ceremonial paint applied and tried his best to avoid catching the eye of the chief's daughter, Akala, who had now shown up and was smiling at him from the other side of the grass mats. Apparently, kids grew up pretty quick in these parts. He'd never willed the sun to go down so quickly, but its journey over the Bratalan sky seemed to take an age.

Once he was as thoroughly caked in thick, bite-irritating paint as the tribes folk deemed he needed to be, they backed off, and Ronon lost no time in scooting to his side. 'If we're heading up to the plains, that'll take us near the jumper,' he whispered in that theatrical way people do when surrounded by noise.

Sheppard nodded, keeping his eyes on Chief Untooka the whole time. 'I know. I want you guys to head for it the first chance you get to slip away unnoticed. Hopefully, everyone'll be too busy watching me to care what you're up to.'

'I'm not leaving you here, Sheppard,' his friend told him firmly.

'I'm hoping you don't have to,' Sheppard assured him. 'The first chance I get to follow you, I'll be there.'

Across the mats, Akala gave him another warm smile. The one he shot her in return was more based in pain and embarrassment than any kind of affection, though he did feel bad about the fact he was soon going to do a runner on her. He'd heard a lot of men freaked out about turning forty, got themselves flash cars and younger trophy girlfriends to make up for what they deemed to be dwindling masculinity, but he figured most of them would draw the line at a twelve-year-old. Normal as it might be for the good folk of Bratala, the very thought of making nice with Akala made him want to barf all over again.

Across the village, they heard the familiar boom of Ronon's gun, and suddenly everyone was up on their feet and running...including them. It turned out to be a group of over-zealous young males trying out the weapons they'd confiscated. Ronon's lips drew back in a snarl, and Sheppard could feel how badly he wanted to take his gun back. That weapon had helped him survive seven years on the run from the Wraith; it was more than just a weapon to him – it was a friend.

'Let it go, Ronon. This isn't worth getting in trouble for,' Sheppard warned him.

'I want it back,' the Satedan growled. 'I need it.'

'I know...but now isn't the time.'

He watched his friend curl and uncurl his fingers into fists, then finally he relaxed his stance and Sheppard felt able to breathe easy again. He was still hoping everyone was going to come out of this situation pretty much unscathed, himself excluded of course, but he needed everyone to keep their cool if that was going to happen.

'Ronon, let Teyla know the plan and make sure Rodney gets on board the jumper...you may need him to fly it if I can't make it.'

'We're not –'

'Yeah, yeah, I know, you're not leaving without me. But you might have to, Ronon. Not that I'm saying I don't expect you to come back with reinforcements to get me the hell out of here later.'

Ronon finally gave him his agreement. 'You can count on it.'

A hand gently touched Sheppard's arm, though not gently enough to prevent him wincing from the contact. He turned to find Teyla behind him, her face grave with concern. 'Are you sure you wish to go ahead with this challenge, John? I am sure now we know where the weapons are we could reclaim them and convince them to release you.'

'No, Teyla. It's not going down that way. This is my fault, and I'm going to make sure no one else pays for it. We're not taking any unnecessary risks with anyone else's lives.'

'But after what you have already been through, I am not sure you are ready to attempt to tame the harama,' she told him, trying to make him see her viewpoint.

'If the young men of this village have to go through this process, I'm pretty sure I'll manage,' he assured her, his cockiness annoying even her.

She frowned her disapproval of his over confidence. 'If you had taken the time to talk to some of the villagers as I have, you would know the initiation usually takes place over several days. It seems Untooka would prefer you to fail.'

So the chief did care about his daughter's future, after all? Much as the fact he'd duped him annoyed Sheppard, he had to admire the man's attempt to defend his daughter's honour from the "outsider".

'Okay...that might make a difference,' he admitted. 'But I still say we go ahead with the plan. The jumper's up on the plains. If we can get close enough to it, I might be able to create enough of a distraction for us to be able to slip away without any trouble.'

'But that still leaves you facing the harama...'

He laid a hand on her shoulder and she stopped protesting instantly. 'I'll be fine,' he told her, and that was his final word on the matter. She seemed to understand that, giving him a nod although she didn't look too happy.

The light was fading now, the sun sinking toward the horizon in a blaze of orange glory. The harama would soon be heading their way, and when Sheppard looked around for Untooka he found him striding toward him.

'We should head to the plains so we do not miss the haramas' passing,' he told Sheppard and his team.

'Yeah, 'cos we wouldn't want that to happen,' McKay muttered, giving the man the evil eye. 'Is it just me or does anyone else think that man's enjoying this just a little too much.'

He was...there was no denying that. Untooka wore a definite smirk, unlike his daughter, whose smile had transformed into an anxious frown. Something told Sheppard this trial wasn't going to be as straightforward as he was hoping.

They began the trek to the plains under a blood-red hue, a possible omen of what was to come, he supposed, then cursed himself for being so melodramatic. Untooka led from the front, his four sons just two paces behind him and maintaining that respectful distance for the whole journey. Sheppard and his team were next in line, and behind them came the rest of the village, Untooka's daughter and his two wives first, then everyone else following in a haphazard group behind them.

The plains stretched out for miles when they reached them, a vast expanse of grasslands as far as the eye could see. The team came to a standstill as Untooka did, looking around for clues as to just where they might have left their transport. Without their equipment, they had to rely on memory and their inbuilt sense of direction, which pretty much meant Ronon and Teyla, although Sheppard had a fair idea of the direction they would need to head in.

'And now we wait,' the chief announced, looking toward the horizon, his chin held high.

He looked impressive highlighted as he was by the golden burnish of the setting sun, a huge, noble man whose life was steeped in these traditions. Sheppard wasn't sure whether to dare question the man's instruction, but knew they needed to get closer to where they'd left the jumper to stand any chance of effecting an escape – and escape they would have to if he ever wanted to leave this tribe.

He took a couple of steps forward, still remaining behind Untooka and his sons, but close enough to be heard by the chief when he spoke to him. 'Untooka, perhaps we could keep moving until the harama show up?' he suggested, the chief turning to face him with a puzzled expression.

'We have no way of knowing when they will show, only that they will come from the east. It makes more sense to wait.'

Despite the rebuttal, Sheppard pressed again. 'I'm not good at waiting...I prefer to keep busy. Maybe we could head east and meet them en route.'

Again, Untooka looked puzzled, as if he couldn't imagine why someone would actually want to head into the challenge any sooner than it would naturally arrive. 'Well, most men prefer to wait and conserve their strength...but there is nothing in the traditions that forbids meeting the harama head on. You may proceed.'

Glancing around at his team and offering them a brief but victorious smile, Sheppard strode out in front, even though every step made his sore skin smart all the more. After a few seconds, Ronon joined him, walking shoulder to shoulder with Sheppard and rasping slight variations in direction based on all but invisible clues he spotted in the seemingly eternal grassland.

Suddenly, he ordered a change that seemed to go against the way they had been headed completely. Sheppard suspected that meant something, and he was right.

'Around two hundred paces north east,' Ronon told him. I can see the flattened grass. We should lead the villagers away so they don't spot it.'

Sheppard nodded, happy they were now close enough to make a break for it in what he hoped would be the ensuing chaos of dozens of horse-like creatures racing through.

He headed west a little way, then stopped, his team all beside him.

Untooka stood back and folded his arms over his broad chest. 'You have decided to wait here?' he asked.

Sheppard nodded. 'Yeah...legs are getting a little achy now.'

A sound carried to them on the air, a rumble reminiscent of distant thunder. That was all they needed. As if this escape wasn't going to be tricky enough as it was.

'Storm coming?' Sheppard asked the chief.

'No...the harama. It sounds like you won't have long to wait.'

Sheppard returned his gaze to the eastern most horizon, seeing minimal movement there now. 'Cool,' he muttered. 'Maybe my people could go wait over that way...where it's safer?'

He gestured in the direction the jumper lay in, but Untooka huffed out a laugh. 'It's hard to judge where is safe when the harama come through. But if you insist, they may wait over there.'

Teyla and Rodney followed Sheppard's instruction, but Ronon only moved vaguely in that direction, still hovering near the villagers. Sheppard spotted the youth carrying Ronon's gun was standing pretty close to Ronon's position. It seemed the Satedan wasn't prepared to let his gun go just yet. He wanted to tell him to give it up, but he couldn't communicate that thought without getting Ronon in trouble. So, he held his tongue, and hoped Ronon knew what he was doing.

Teyla stood poised, ready to run. The villagers would not suspect anything from that because most of them looked equally ready to bolt for their lives. McKay just clung close to Teyla's side looking pale and worried. Moving at speed wasn't really his thing, but Sheppard trusted Teyla to get him to safety.

One of the villagers stepped forward, holding a loop of rope dangling from his outstretched hands. Glad they were giving him at least that much assistance, Sheppard took it from him with a grateful dip of the head and set to work with it.

The rumble in the distance grew steadily louder. Sheppard kept one eye on the animals approaching and another on his rope. Around him, he sensed rather than saw the villagers begin to retreat, putting themselves at a safer distance.

Suddenly, Rodney's acerbic tones broke his concentration. 'Sheppard, I don't know if you've noticed, but everyone else is getting out of the path of those things.'

'I know,' Sheppard replied, still working on a knot in the rope.

'What are you doing?' the scientist demanded.

'Making a lasso.'

'A wha –? Are you kidding? Would this be a good point to remind you your name is John Sheppard not John Wayne?'

Sheppard just shot him a look and then got back to his lasso. Rodney knew very little about his past, not many people did, so he supposed the fact he could tie a lasso and break horses would probably come as a surprise to them. But he didn't have time to elucidate now. The reminiscing would have to wait.

The rumble was growing uncomfortably loud now, the ground trembling under his feet. Sheppard finished the loop and checked out his targets again, seeing them now in their full glory.

They didn't look like horses, not unless several of them had been melted together to make a huge, dense lump of ground shaking horse that had subsequently been smacked with the ugly stick – more than once. Added to that, the four huge buffalo style horns protruding from their skulls loaned them an almost satanic quality. That and the incandescent red glow of their vibrant russet coats.

'Oh, crap!' he breathed, backing up a few paces before remembering his choices. This or boiling alive. Okay, suddenly the harama didn't look quite so hideous. Maybe he could do this.

'Get to safety!' he yelled to his team, but rather predictably, Ronon still loitered within arm's reach of his gun. Teyla, however, took hold of Rodney's tac-vest and tugged him forcefully in the direction of the jumper.

With his heart now trying to punch a hole through his ribs, Sheppard called back to Untooka, 'So, this is a regular part of the initiation...right?'

'Yes. Every young man in our village undergoes this test.'

His voice was quieter than expected, and when he turned to locate the chief, Sheppard found him a substantial distance away and still retreating. That couldn't be good.

'Is there a high success rate?'

'Around half of our men succeed. The initiations help to keep our numbers low and deter the Wraith from culling.'

That one wasn't even a double crap...that had to rate as a triple crap and then some. It was time to get a grip; at the speed those animals were moving, they would reach him in around one more minute. He had to time it perfectly or he would be joining the fifty percent failures statistic.

To his right, he could see Ronon tensing ready for flight, but still glued to the young Bratalan man's side. He meant to get his gun back, and right now that seemed like the best idea anyone had had all day.

And then the harama were there and the Bratalans were fleeing in all directions, screaming or shouting in varying degrees of taunting or fear. Sheppard threw himself aside to miss the first wave, then rolled back to his feet, picked a target still approaching him and began to spin the rope above his head, judging, watching, waiting...then he let it fly.

After that, things got pretty blurry. The sensation of flying, a face full off grass and dirt, and then bouncing along the ground staring at the back end of a harama. And he'd thought the front end was butt ugly. At least the grass whipping against his face was helping him to forget about the bites...

Once he got his breath back he began to pull himself gradually along the rope, the harama it hung from veering and turning to the left as the strain on the rope steered it that way. At least that was back in the general direction of the jumper...as well as the rest of the village and his team. He quickly hauled himself up the rest of the length, grabbing hold of some fleshy scruff on the back of the creature's course neck to give himself the leverage to swing himself onto its back.

The Bratalans scattered like pins in a bowling alley, darting away without the need for brute contact, while smacking into one another in their haste to escape the haramas' path. Suddenly, Ronon was running alongside him, as fast as he could, taking aim with his gun. Looked like he'd taken advantage of the chaos to grab it back. He blasted the beast, but although it faltered, it just kept right on running.

'Get into the jumper!' Sheppard yelled to him, hoping that for once Ronon would follow an order.

'Not without you.'

Typical. No one could ever doubt Ronon's loyalty, but sometimes Ronon was just a little too...Ronon for his own good.

The harama suddenly decided bucking was a good choice of moves to rid itself of its cling-on, sending Sheppard spilling forwards over its head as it turned from the course Sheppard had set it on and away from the jumper. Despite the fact he scraped the full length of his left inner forearm on one of the horns, he doggedly retained his grip on the rope, swinging now against the huge beast's chest and getting kicked good and hard in the process. He couldn't let go now or he would fall under its huge hooves. Though he was used to getting his ass kicked in the gym with Ronon and Teyla, this put an entirely new spin on the term. One firm knee into his rear end sent him upwards, and he took advantage of the boost, throwing one arm over the harama's neck and hauling himself up onto its back. He practically had to do the splits to straddle the breadth of it, and he didn't feel entirely secure even then, sliding around like a kid on a Bucking Bronco ride. The colonel yanked the rope to the left, steering the maddened creature back the way it had come and back toward where Ronon had halted near their craft and was now levelling his weapon.

Ronon shot the creature again, but his weapon was having little effect. Sheppard knew he was going to have bruises where bruises had no rights to be after this rough ride, but he clung on, seeing the flattened area of grass ahead that signalled the jumper's resting spot.

Just a little further.

Ronon fired one last time, then disappeared into the cloaked ship, no doubt looking for something else he could hit the harama with. Sheppard was just trying to figure out how to get the animal to slow down so he could dismount and get on board when the beast veered and bucked at the same time, flinging him free and straight through the waiting hatch of the jumper. His roll came to a sudden end when he hit one of the rear benches, but he didn't care. He already hurt too much for it to make much difference anyway.

'Get us out of here, Rodney,' he yelled, feeling pain in his shoulder from the impact and knowing he wasn't capable of doing it himself.

McKay's face dropped, but he did as he was told, raising the rear hatch and taking them up in a shaky incline toward the safety of the Stargate.

Teyla and Ronon helped Sheppard up off the floor. 'That was some serious riding,' the Satedan grinned, slapping a meaty hand on his back, and setting dozens of bites stinging.

Sheppard suppressed a groan as he eased his bruised butt onto the padded seat. 'You think I passed the initiation?'

Ronon's grin widened. 'You weren't that good,' he told him, shuffling up to the cockpit to give Rodney grief about the bumpy flight.

Teyla opened a compartment above his head and pulled out the first aid kit. 'Well, other than yourself, we all got out unharmed...even the Bratalans. That was your wish, was it not?'

'Yeah...it was.' He managed a smile now, but it was short lived as Teyla began to swab his injured arm with iodine.

Still, as Pegasus birthdays went, this one had to be one of the liveliest for him personally. And he wasn't getting any younger. He wasn't sure he could take the pace of another one at all. As Teyla continued to tend to his wounds, he stretched out and lay down his head, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the cushioning, despite her ministrations.