A/N - A big thank you to my fabulous beta MidKnight Rider, who has helped me all along and especially on this chapter - and for suggesting the Oz reference. :)

Jack heard the order to kill him, but that actually concerned him less than the fact that Dagda had just disappeared into thin air with Sam. Where was he taking her? God, what was he going to going to do to her?

His thoughts were interrupted when the large Jaffa who had spoken to Dagda stepped in front of him and leveled a staff weapon at his face. He armed the weapon, and Jack watched as latent energy crackled around the head of the device. Crap, how was he getting out of this one? His eyes darted around, looking for an advantage, but he could see none. In addition to the Jaffa standing in front of him, there were at least five others interspersed among the crowd of villagers, including the one at his back.

Suddenly, several things happened at once. Garrick's son Dax stepped hard on the foot of the Jaffa who was still restraining him, causing him to cry out, more in surprise than pain. The warrior struck the boy, but was immediately set upon by both Garrick and Thane, who easily disarmed him and began beating him on the ground.

At the same time, the Jaffa preparing to shoot Jack glanced over his shoulder at the unexpected commotion. It was all the opportunity Jack needed. He grabbed the staff weapon, the shot intended for him hitting the ground instead, and rammed the butt of the staff into the neck of warrior who had tried to kill him. Then, in a move that would have made Teal'c proud, Jack sighted the weapon backwards and fired, taking out the Jaffa with the pain stick who was standing behind him.

Using the staff as leverage, Jack hoisted himself up, righted the weapon and primed it, ready to shoot. There was no need. The three remaining Jaffa had been swarmed by the villagers and were either dead or dying.

Jack walked over to large Jaffa who had tried to kill him. He was lying on the ground, flat on his back, an ugly gurgling noise coming from his throat as he tried to breathe. "Where did they go?" Jack asked, his voice hard as stone. When the warrior failed to reply, Jack primed the staff weapon and pointed it at the bird tattoo on his head. "Let's try this again. Where. Did. They. Go?" He punctuated each word with a jab of the staff.

At first, Jack didn't think he'd reply. Then he heard the Jaffa whisper in a strained voice, "Castle." Jack was turning to leave, when he heard something else. The Jaffa was still talking. Jack knelt beside him. "He will...defile...her. His...chambers." Jack felt the bile rise in his throat, even as he watched the Jaffa's eyes dim.

Jack stood and addressed the crowd. "I'm going to find Dagda. Anyone who wants to join me, grab a weapon and let's move out." A roar went up from the crowd. Jack took off in the direction of the castle, with almost all of the men, and a good number of the women following.

"Hang on, Sam," he whispered.

oOoOoOo

Sam had to take a moment to clear her head, as the instantaneous change of location was causing it to spin. Her shock over the fact that they had transported was superseded only by her curiosity about the manner in which they had done so. She looked at Dagda's wrist and saw some device there - a personal transporter, she supposed, though she'd never seen one used by a Goa'uld before.

So Dagda was a Goa'uld. She had been under the misimpression that he was merely a Jaffa, but he bore no tattoo and she could clearly sense his mature symbiote. This complicated things somewhat. Of course, Jack was likely already altering his tactical plans on the basis of this new information.

Jack! Dagda had ordered him killed immediately before they left. Sam felt her stomach drop at the thought that he might be dead. But she had to push that notion far aside, as she had her own problems at the moment.

Dagda had never let go of her arm and was now dragging her from what appeared to be a throne room, presumably in the castle he occupied. "Come, my dear," he said. "I am most anxious to get to know you better, but I would prefer to have you properly attired first."

Sam wrenched her arm free. "Let go of me!"

Dagda's eyes flashed, and he grabbed her by both shoulders in an iron grip. As they were almost the same height, he stood nose to nose with her. "Oh, I do like a woman who puts up a bit of a fight," he growled, as he peered down into her bodice, "and you will be a pleasure to tame. But make no mistake, I will only tolerate insolence to a point." And with that he struck her across the face, sending her sprawling onto the floor.

He yanked her up, as she raised her hand to her lip which was now bleeding profusely. "Now see what you have made me do?" he asked with mock sincerity.

She glared at him, and he continued to pull her down a hallway leading away from the throne room. "You will come with me to my servants' quarters where my women will tend to your injuries and prepare you for our meeting later this evening." He tightened his grip on her arm. "And make no mistake. If you are uncooperative in any way, I will kill the women and give the task to my Jaffa instead."

As they made their way to the servants' quarters, Sam took the opportunity to get a good look at their surroundings, noting any possible means of escape. The castle was not that big. She assumed the throne room was somewhere in the center and the servants' quarters were as far from the main rooms as possible. In fact, Dagda was taking her down what was likely a back set of stairs at that moment, and Sam wondered if there might be an exit at the bottom.

When they finally arrived at the end of the staircase, though, all she could see was a single door. Dagda approached it, lifted a large latch, and pulled it open. As they entered, Sam heard a series of gasps. Three women stood up from their spots on the floor.

Dagda shoved Sam into the room. "See that she is bathed and made presentable for me within the hour. If she is not prepared by that time, you will all be punished." He turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him. Sam heard the sound of the latch being lowered into its slot.

Sam immediately went to the door to see if it could be opened, but it was locked tight. She spun around to face the women. "Is there any other way out of here?" All three shook their heads.

The oldest of the women approached Sam and began unfastening her bodice. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, as she backed away.

"We must get you ready for Dagda. You will need to be bathed and dressed."

She shook her head. "Oh no. That is so not happening."

The red haired women spoke next. "If you don't let us prepare you, he will beat all of us."

"Then why don't you fight him?" Sam asked, irrationally angry at the women for their apparent unwillingness to defend themselves.

"He is too strong," replied the red head.

The oldest spoke again. "You must not fight him, either. It only makes it worse."

"Yes, if you are too difficult, he will just have you killed," agreed the red head. "You should try to please him."

"Please, at least let us prepare you," said the older woman. "What you choose to do after that is up to you."

Sam closed her eyes, then finally nodded. If these women weren't going to help her, then at least she could save her strength for the inevitable confrontation with Dagda.

"How long have you been here?" Sam asked all three, as she removed her dress.

"Fleta has been here a little over a year," the oldest woman indicated the red head. "And Poppy came to us but a few months ago." She looked sympathetically at the young girl, who couldn't have been more than sixteen years old and hadn't spoken a word since Sam arrived. "Dagda likes her best at the moment." She picked up a damp, scented cloth and began running it over Sam's arms. "I'm Maida, and I've served in the castle for five years. Most don't make it three. Heed our advice, and you may hope to last as long."

Sam took the cloth from Maida. "I can do that," she said.

The women continued to attempt to groom her, while Sam kept trying to convince them to either fight or flee. But they had no interest in risking Dagda's ire. It was clear they were terrified of him.

Finally, Maida pulled out a long, silky, and practically transparent robe from an armoire. Sam took one look at it and muttered, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

No sooner had she put on the robe than the door opened again. Two Jaffa stood there and exchanged smirks as they took in her appearance. "Dagda will be most pleased with you," said one. He grabbed Sam by the arm and led her from the room.

The other went to Poppy and pulled her off the floor. "He wants you, too," he told the girl. Sam had just enough time to glance quickly over her shoulder at Poppy, only to see a look of abject fear in her eyes.

The four moved quickly through the castle. When they arrived at Dagda's chambers, the Jaffa knocked then entered, holding Sam firmly between them. Poppy trailed behind. Sam watched as the obese Goa'uld hefted himself from the bed and walked toward her.

Dagda's eyes glowed as he looked at Sam. He stood just in front of her and opened her robe, letting his eyes roam over her body. Sam didn't flinch, but continued looking straight ahead. He smiled. "Leave us," he said to the Jaffa.

Once they had closed the door, Dagda crossed the room to a small table by the bed and poured two glasses of mead. Sam eye's widened when she noticed a serving knife embedded in a large round of cheese. She quickly averted her gaze.

Dagda extended a glass to her, and she took it. "You see. There is no need for this to be unpleasant." He took a sip. "I believe we will get along just fine." Dagda reached out and trailed his fingers from her neck, between her breasts, to her abdomen. Without warning, Sam shoved the heel of her hand as hard as she could into his nose. He cried out and stumbled backwards, his drink flying. Sam made a beeline for the table with the knife, but Dagda recovered much faster than she thought possible. He hit her from behind, sending her to the floor for the second time that evening.

"Woman!" he bellowed. Poppy scurried over to him, eyes wide, and began wiping his bleeding nose with a towel. Sam had all but forgotten she was there. "I have already told you that insolence will be punished!" At that, Dagda grabbed the towel from Poppy and backhanded her.

Sam got to her feet and stood between Dagda and Poppy. "Leave her alone," she growled.

Dagda patted his sagging face with the towel. "But you see, my dear, if you continue to fight me, I will have to punish her, as well as you." Dagda grabbed Sam by her arm and pulled her to him. "Now it's your turn," he hissed in her ear.

Sam took advantage of his proximity and jabbed her fingers in his eyes. He let out a roar of pain but did not release his grip on her. Immediately, she brought her foot down on his instep, but he was undeterred. He twisted her arm around her back and spun her so that he held her from behind.

Before Sam knew what was happening he had her bent over the bed, one arm still pinned painfully behind her and the other trapped underneath her body, his large frame crushing her and keeping her restrained. Her head was turned to the side facing the table with the knife, but it might have been across the galaxy for all the good it was doing her now.

Sam mustered her strength and attempted to flip him off of her. But he was just too heavy. She closed her eyes, then immediately opened them again, as Dagda began pulling her robe up with his free hand. "As I said," he breathed heavily in her ear, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

No! She felt a moment of sheer panic as she realized that she couldn't move, that she was at his mercy. Memories of Turghan flashed before her eyes, and she shut them tight and concentrated on trying not to cry out. There was little else she could do, but at least she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. She focused on her training, attempting to calm herself and disconnect her mind from the impending physical experience.

Without warning, someone let out a scream, and Sam was shocked to realize it wasn't her. Even more surprising was the fact that Dagda was no longer on top of her. Wasting no time, she lunged for the knife and spun around. Dagda had his ribbon device trained on Poppy, who was whimpering in pain. The bottle of mead lay shattered on the floor, the liquid spreading across the tiles and dripping off the crown of Dagda's head.

With laser-like focus, Sam plunged the knife into the back of Dagda's neck with all her strength. The ribbon device shut off immediately, and Dagda dropped his hand. His eyes flashed and dimmed, but he remained standing for several long seconds. Finally he fell over, crumbling on the spot in a mountain of pasty flesh, the knife still protruding from the back of his neck.

Poppy had curled up in a ball and was still whimpering. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam knew that she should check on her, but she couldn't seem to get her body to do anything but stand and stare at the fallen Goa'uld. It wasn't long, however, until her attention was drawn by the sound of a struggle outside the entrance to Dagda's chambers. The door burst open, and Jack and several others entered the room.

"Sam?" he asked. He took in the entire scene in one glance, and his face hardened as he pulled off his jacket and walked toward her, draping it over her shoulders. He turned to one of the women who had followed him in. "Take care of her," he said, indicating Poppy. He looked at the rest of them. "Give us a minute, okay?"

As the others exited the room, Jack knelt down next to Dagda's body and rolled him over. His eyes were still open but stared blankly ahead. Jack, however, wasn't taking any chances. He took out the zat he had liberated from the dead Jaffa outside the door and fired it at the body twice.

When everyone else had gone, Jack looked closely at Sam, her eyes still glazed. "Sam?" he asked again. When she still didn't say anything, he drew himself up and in his best command voice, said loudly, "Report, Major!"

"Sir!" she responded automatically, and it was enough to shake her from her reverie. "I...I killed him."

Jack looked into her eyes, and though he was relieved that she was back with him, what he saw there made his stomach clench. "Are you okay, Sam?" He swallowed. "Did he...?"

"No," she responded immediately. "No, he was going to. If it hadn't been for Poppy...Oh god, where is she?" She looked around the room. "Is she okay?"

"She's being looked after, Sam. I'm more concerned about you."

"There's no need to be concerned. I'm fine. Really. Nothing happened." But as soon as she said it, all of the fear she had been trying to keep under control suddenly came to the surface, and she let out a sob. She dropped her head into her hands and turned away from Jack. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He turned her toward him and put his arms around her, drawing her into a tight embrace. "There is nothing you need to apologize for," he whispered into her hair.

She sniffled. "I'm supposed to be stronger than this."

"You're the strongest person I know, Sam." He held her tighter. "Heck, you single handedly killed a Goa'uld with a...what is that, anyway?"

She smiled a little into his chest. "Cheese knife."

Jack laughed. "You see? I don't even think Teal'c has taken out a Goa'uld with a cheese knife. Now Daniel almost talked one to death once..."

By now, Sam was laughing too, though neither had released their hold on the other. After a minute she asked quietly, "He's dead, right?"

"Oh, he's really most sincerely dead."

oOoOoOo

Once they found a change of clothes for Sam, she and Jack headed to the throne room of the castle, as Thane had informed them that was where everyone was meeting to regroup. Jack filled her in on what had happened along the way. Sam was stunned that so many of the villagers had followed him there. Even more surprising was that they had managed to take out at least ten Jaffa so far.

The throne room was a madhouse. Several people were milling around or talking in small groups. There were so many of them, it was difficult to move. Jack searched for Garrick and Thane and finally located them near the front of the room. He and Sam pushed their way forward.

Thane had to speak directly in Jack's ear to be heard. "We've taken out at least four other demons."

"How many does that leave?" asked Jack.

"Only a handful, maybe five or six." Thane clasped Jack's shoulder and gestured to the crowd. "You need to tell them what's happened."

Jack nodded and tried in vain to get everyone's attention. Finally, he stepped up on top of the throne, put two fingers in his mouth, and let out an ear piercing whistle. Everyone turned his direction.

"Dagda is dead, as are most of the Jaf-, er, demons." Cheers went up from the crowd. "However, there are still some demons on the loose. You must be careful. Make sure you remain armed at all times."

Someone in the back called out, "And what of the Morrigan? She will surely kill us all for this!"

Jack stood up tall. "We will fight her. We can show you how." But now a ripple of uncertainty was passing through the crowd. Jack knew he was losing them. "Look, you just need to trust me. We'll come up with a plan."

But it was no use; the villagers were now talking urgently among themselves, no longer paying attention to Jack. Jack jumped off the throne and sat down on it, his head in his hands. Suddenly, several people in front gasped and began whispering. Jack looked up and was disturbed to see them pointing at him. "What?" he asked.

One of the women near the front, her finger still pointed at Jack, yelled out, "Look! The prophecy is fulfilled! He sits the throne!" The buzzing in the room now had an excited edge to it, and several people began pressing forward to get a glimpse of Jack.

Jack looked around him. Then he pointed to himself. "Who? Me?"