Chapter 12
Char'ak's friends turn out to be a couple, easily old enough to be Jack's parents. I don't know how he thought they were going to cope with two children, but I instantly feel at ease with them.
They live on a farm some distance from the nearest village. We approach under cover of darkness, Char'ak leading the way. Once inside the house, it's obviously comfortable but basic. There's a large kitchen that seems to be the centre of everything, with a huge wood-fired stove and table dominating the room. Benches flank the table, and there are several other, softer looking chairs to one side.
Char'ak is warmly welcomed and quickly explains the reason for his visit. I feel better about Char'ak now I've seen his welcome. These look like good people and they trust him, although I suspect I might feel happier if I knew what he'd done to inspire that trust.
Char'ak leaves quickly, needing to fabricate evidence for his alternative story. That leaves us, two USAF officers, two children and two kindly strangers, to decide how to proceed.
"You're all very welcome here, aren't they, Evan?" the woman – Carys, Char'ak called her - asks her husband. He doesn't speak, just nods pleasantly.
"Do you often have to take in people Char'ak brings?" I ask.
"No, but it's good to be able to repay his kindness. Many turns ago, he was charged with harvesting Goa'uld hosts from my world, and the Jaffa under his command took me. I was taken to a planet far from home and stripped, ogled like a piece of meat. They … showed me to one of the snakes – but I was rejected, as were most of those offered. Heka ordered us all killed, but Char'ak managed to sneak some of us away; the others died. Some time later, he was able to bring me and one other to this planet where Evan's family took us in. The other girl – Morwen, died of a fever a short while later."
She pauses, maybe gathering her thoughts before continuing.
"A year later, I was bonded to Evan and I have been here ever since. I owe Char'ak my life and my happiness. Char'ak has saved others too in the years since then, although he hasn't left any others in this village. He visits sometimes. He is a good man, and he is tormented by the evil things he has had to do to maintain the position of power that allows him to help some."
"So this planet belonged to Heka?" Jack asks.
"It did. Not that he bothered us other than when he sent his Jaffa to collect a portion of our harvest. Maybe once a decade to look for hosts. And now, we're told that Heka is dead and that our true God is Apophis! Stuff and nonsense!"
"I like your style," Jack comments with a smile of approval.
I glare at him, but he shrugs. "Saves us having to explain."
"We appreciate that you're willing to take us in," I tell the couple. Gratitude seems more than appropriate, and to be honest, it's a relief to have another human adult – a woman – to talk to. Not that I haven't enjoyed my time with Jack, it's just … well … nice.
"And how could we turn our backs on the four of you even if we didn't owe Char'ak a debt of gratitude? So. Tell us your story. How do you come to be with Char'ak, and what of the children?"
Cal and Shanna seem to have become almost invisible during the conversation. They're probably tired. Their night's sleep was disturbed by the alarm going off, and while they did sleep on the ship, I doubt their sleep was restful.
"We'll tell you our story, but is there somewhere the children can rest? They've had a traumatic time lately, and …"
"Of course, of course. What am I thinking of? Are they hungry? Would you like something to eat, children?"
They both shake their heads, but she doesn't seem convinced.
"I've got fresh bread and honey," she coaxes, and Cal's face splits into a smile.
A short while later, thick slabs of home-made bread are spread with sweet honey, and everyone has a mug of some sort of tea as we sit around the huge table. When they're finished, Carys shows us all upstairs to a large bedroom. Inside, there're three beds – the room apparently set up for a family.
"My daughter and her family use this room when they visit, but we don't expect them for a while," Carys explains. "You should be quite comfortable until we can make more permanent arrangements."
"It's lovely, Carys," I approve.
"You get the children settled and then come down and I'll make some more tea. You can tell us a little about yourselves before you sleep."
"Thanks," I tell her.
As soon as she's gone, Jack starts arranging things. The sight of one double bed gave me a start when we came in, but after a quick look around, Jack comes up with the obvious solution.
"You ok to share with Shanna?" he asks. "Cal and I can take the singles. I'd share with him, but if I have a nightmare …"
"Sure. That's fine," I agree.
The children don't make any objections either and in a few moments, they're both in bed.
Once downstairs and over fresh mugs of the fragrant tea, we tell Carys and Evan the short version of our story.
"And you can't get home?" Carys shakes her head in understanding.
"Not without a Stargate," I agree.
"That sounds to be a wondrous thing," Evan comments, letting us hear his voice for the first time. It's deep and warm and suits the man perfectly. He's not particularly tall, but he's barrel-chested and muscular despite his age, which I would estimate as over seventy. He's quite a contrast with Carys, who's small and slight and moves surprisingly quickly for a woman of her age.
"Oh, it is," I agree, remembering my own thoughts the first time I stepped through the gate.
"And you've been caring for the children since you came across them?"
"Well, we couldn't leave them behind," Jack answers.
"I'm glad to hear that, but it's a sad fact that some could have done just that." Carys' voice is thick with disapproval.
"So, as to where we go from here. You're welcome to use the room upstairs for now. And we can always use some extra hands around the farm, if you don't mind hard work."
"Sure," Jack agrees. "You're ok with that, aren't you, Sam?"
"I'll be pleased to do whatever I can."
"We'll talk about details in the morning. For now though, we need to give you a story. We don't often get visits from Jaffa, but it could happen, and with Apophis taking over, well, you never know. Heka himself never came here – he just sent some Jaffa to collect the harvest each year, and they were never concerned with the people, as long as they got what they came for. However, they were often willing to reward people for information on anything they considered to be subversive, and there are people who'd sell their own grandmothers if they could benefit from it. We need to give you a story that'll hold up to at least casual questioning. Evan, your cousin over in Merradoc's got sons Jack's age, hasn't he?"
"He does. And no one around here knows him at all."
"Merradoc's a good journey from here – takes about three weeks to get there, so we don't see those folk often. It must be, what? Twenty years since Morgan visited. We can tell people you're his son, and you of course, Sam, are bonded to him."
"Bonded?" I ask. That sounds a bit like enslaved to me.
"Bonded," Carys confirms. "Like Evan and me. A man and a woman who have promised to share their lives."
"Er, no," Jack says. "We … worked together, before we were stranded here. We're … friends."
"Friends?" she says, and there's a hint of disbelief in her voice. "This could be a problem," she admits.
We have to wait a short while before she continues.
"Single women on this world have a difficult life unless they are under the protection of a man – father, brother or bonded partner. They cannot own property, and they cannot earn a living, at least, they cannot be paid in the normal sense. If they work outside their home, their earnings are passed directly to whichever man has responsibility for them. It's only when they're bonded that women here have a significant measure of freedom, and only then if they're bonded to men such as Evan who genuinely wishes things were different. I assume it's different where you come from."
"No. At least, there are some parts of the world where there's something like that, but where we come from, women are equal to men. I'm used to looking after myself."
"That won't be possible here. Especially with you, Sam. Your colouring is so unusual here that you're bound to attract attention. You could live here with us, but as long as you remain single, you will be sought as a mate – a woman of your age is rarely allowed to remain unbonded for long. There is a shortage of women here – and those considered 'too fussy' in their choice of mate are sometimes forced to choose. It would be better if you were to pretend to be bonded to Jack – safer -- and it would allow you both to remain with the children. Unless you find that prospect distasteful?"
"Distasteful? No! I suppose, it's no different from what we've been doing since we found the children – living as a sort of family." I glance at Jack, wanting to make sure he feels the same.
"Sure," he agrees. "It sounds sort of like with the Shavadai – on a planet we visited a while ago. Sam ended up being sold against her will, and I'm not going to let something like that happen again."
He smiles at me, no doubt going for reassuring, but I tense. The memory of Turgan's too fresh, and that incident came way too close for my liking. The prospect of living on a world with a similar attitude to women makes me uneasy. He must see that I'm not happy with the memory because he quickly backtracks.
"It's important that we're both there for the kids – at least until they're settled."
"Good," Carys approves. "Once you're here and see how things are done, you can reconsider that decision."
"We'll worry about that when we have to," I decide. "It doesn't seem like we've got a lot of choice. So, Jack and I will pretend to be … bonded. What else do you recommend?"
She pauses again, perhaps trying to get back to the previous subject.
"Very well, we could tell people that the children belong to both of you, but with that colouring of theirs, I don't think anyone will believe they're Jack's. Since they've got parents elsewhere, it's probably safer to stick close to the truth, and say that they're … Sam's late sister's children - poor orphaned souls that you and Jack've taken in. And, Jack, your family don't approve of you doing it and they were making things difficult for you in Merradoc so you decided to come over here and start again."
"Is that likely? That my family would object to something like that?"
"Very likely. Paternal lineage is important in our society. For a man to raise children not his own is considered to be an insult to his family."
"Are you ok with this?" I ask Carys and Evan. "It looks like we're breaking a lot of rules. Is that going to be a problem?"
"Evan and I are … known for our disapproval of some of these customs. I'm not a native of this planet. My childhood was spent on a world with very different rules. When Char'ak brought me here, Evan's father protected me until I became bonded to Evan. The rules of this society are hard on women – especially those who grew up without such strictures." She gives me a sympathetic smile. She really does understand how hard this is going to be for me.
"Is the history agreeable?" Carys asks.
Jack and I share a look for a fraction of a second. Then I drop my gaze, not able to bear his scrutiny.
"Yes," I tell her, sounding more confident than I feel. I hear Jack echo the agreement.
"Good," Carys approves. "Now, I think it's time Evan and I got some sleep."
"Yes," I agree, taking the hint. "We should …"
"Don't worry about being up early in the morning. I'll be here even if Evan's already at work. I can show you round, and we'll work out what else we need to decide."
Jack and I both get up, and Jack approaches Carys, his hands taking hers.
"Thank you. Both of you. I hope you never have reason to regret your kindness."
"We'll be fine, Jack," Evan answers for both of them. "And don't thank us too quick. There's always more work around here than there are hours in the day. You might regret agreeing to any of this."
We both smile at him. I'm pretty sure he's right and that there's a lot of work to be done, but I'm equally sure that Jack and I are up to it.
Jack delays going upstairs, and I'm changed and in bed by the time he arrives. He snuffs the candle before getting undressed and climbing into the other single bed. We've been occupying the same sleeping space for so long this shouldn't seem odd, but then again, circumstances up till now have required that only one of us sleep at a time. Despite the children sleeping in the room with us, this seems oddly intimate, but before long, exhaustion takes over and I fall into a deep sleep.
I'm pulled awake a short while later by Cal's screams. I'm temporarily confused by the unfamiliar room and the almost total darkness, but vaguely remember a window close to my bed, and I reach to pull the curtains. That lets in enough light that I can at least see shadows, among them the unmistakeable sight of Jack making his way to the screaming boy. As I return to bed to check on Shanna, she instantly grabs me and pulls me towards her. As before, she's cold, and I wonder that I didn't wake me. As I'm trying to warm her, my hands running up and down her arms, I see Jack holding Cal in his arms and hear him murmuring unintelligible comfort at the boy.
It takes a while, but gradually, Shanna warms up and Cal seems to be happy to lie back down again. Jack remains sitting on Cal's bed, stroking the boy's forehead, and soon I know Shanna's asleep and suspect Cal is too. At last, Jack gets up and goes back to his bed.
"You ok?" I whisper.
"Yeah," he answers, but there's a measuredness about his tone that tells me more than the word ever could. He's angry. Not at me or at Cal, but at Heka or whoever's responsible for leaving children with memories like those that trigger the nightmare. I recognise it for what it is because I feel pretty much the same thing.
When I waken next morning, Jack's already gone. The children rouse when I get up, and we dress quickly and go downstairs. Carys is in the kitchen, and she quickly starts serving bowls of some sort of porridge.
"Jack's gone for a walk," she explains when I look around the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, we did," I answer, not mentioning the nightmare because I don't want to remind the children. She nods, then gestures me towards the stove, leaving the children sitting at the table.
"Bad dreams?"
"You heard."
"Hard not to. You calmed them pretty quick though. Who was it?"
"Cal. I'm sorry. It's not the first time," I answer. The children seem to be too busy eating to pay attention to what we're saying.
"Don't worry about it. Poor children – I think they've had to cope with too much in their lives already. It's just good to know that they've found someone to take care of them."
"Pity they couldn't have found someone better."
"Better? Why would you say that? They're very fond of you and Jack, and while they're awake, there's no sign of their bad experiences. You're doing fine and I've rarely seen a man so comfortable with children as Jack is."
"I know what you mean," I manage before I hear footsteps that announce his arrival.
I take my bowl from Carys, Jack takes his and we sit at the table. Carys joins us, a mug of something in her hand.
"I've looked out some clothes for you all. If we're going to pass you off as coming from this world, what you're wearing will have to go. I'll leave them upstairs and you can see what fits. I lit the boiler in the bath house this morning, so there'll be hot water for baths if you like."
"Thanks, Carys, that sounds great."
The bathing facilities are pretty basic – literally a large tub and a fire to heat water pumped by hand from a well, but it's every bit as welcome as I thought it would be. I supervise Shanna's bath and Jack, Cal's, and soon we're all dressed in clothes that're going to take me a while to get used to.
The guys have pants and shirts, and apart from the fact that the shirts seem to be button-less and inclined to gape rather lower than usual, at least it's familiar. We girls, on the other hand, have dresses with tied openings. Unlike Carys' dress, mine only comes to mid calf – something that she apologises for.
"I'll make you a dress as soon as I can. None of the ones I have are long enough."
"This is fine, honestly," I disagree.
"Around here, you're right, but if you want to go into the village, you'll need something longer. I know it's not what you're used to, but if you don't want to stand out, you're going to have to dress according to our rules. Now, shoes. Those boots will have to go, and I don't have anything in your size. Do you have anything else until we can get something made?"
"Some soft shoes we picked up where we found the children …"
"They'll have to do, Sam. Jack can continue to wear the boots, though."
Jack glances at me to gauge my reaction. He grins at me, and I get a strong urge to hit him.
"How am I going to be able to help out on the farm dressed like this?" I ask Carys.
"Oh, you won't be working out in the fields – at least, not most of the time. There are lots of other things that need doing. You'll probably find some of our ways strange, but you'll soon settle in."
I glare at Jack again, daring him to smile. He seems to have realised the danger he's in, because he avoids looking at me.
"How about the kids?" he asks.
"There's a school in the village – we'll leave it for now, at least until they're comfortable here, and you'll have to teach them your history too. We can get them enrolled later. Now, first thing I want to do is show you around."
We step out of the farmhouse to a sunny but not particularly warm day. By the looks of the trees, it's summer. The farmhouse and the nearby bath house are the only stone structures I can see. The yard around it is dirt, and close by there are a number of buildings – some no doubt for storage or housing animals, but three look like cottages.
"The first cottage over there is where my son Rhys and his wife Mared live. They've got two children – not too far from your age," she tells the children. "You'll meet them all tonight. I'll do a welcome dinner later. I've invited them and Bryn too. He lives in the furthest of the cottages. The one in the middle can be yours, but it'll need some work. Come and take a look."
We make our way across the yard, and I'm really missing my boots. The cottage is dark inside – the windows small and not letting in a lot of light. The ground floor is a single room, furnished simply with a table and some chairs, a stove and a surface with a basin. No water pump in here, although there does seem to be some sort of drainage. In one corner, an area is curtained off. I take a look and find a large bed frame.
In the middle of the room, there's a ladder that leads up to a loft. We climb up there, leaving Carys below.
"I can't manage ladders any more," she explains. "But there should be bed frames for the children up there and some storage. Check out the roof while you're there. I'm pretty sure there was a leak at one time, and Evan's been meaning to get it fixed, but he's not so good on ladders any more either."
Sure enough, the two small beds up there have been pulled to one side. On the other side, there's definite evidence of water leakage. The whole place smells damp, and I screw up my nose.
"It'll be fine, Sam," Jack concludes. "I can fix the leak, and once we've got that stove running, it'll dry out fine."
I shrug. There's a lot more needed than just the roof mending. The beds will need mattresses, pillows, linen and blankets and kitchen's going to need pots and pans and dishes and …
"Don't worry, Sam," Jack says as he puts a hand on my shoulder. "Carys said we can stay with them until we're ready to move. It'll take us a while to work out how to do things here, but we'll manage."
I wonder for a moment how he knew what I was thinking, and conclude that he was probably thinking much the same thing.
We make our way down the ladder to where Carys is waiting.
"Talk to Evan tonight. He'll tell you where to get materials to mend the roof. Now, my grandchildren will be home from school soon, and I'm going to go and make some lunch. Come and we'll eat. Then, if you like, the children can play together, and Jack, if you could chop some firewood, I'd be very grateful. Sam, there's a whole lot of work to be done to get dinner for everyone, and I'd like your help. Is that ok?"
"Fine," I tell her. "But … I'm not much of a cook."
She shrugs. "Can you follow orders?"
"Pretty much," I admit.
"Then we'll be fine."
