Four
Sutiana
Lantash opened his eyes to a small bedroom. The off-white walls glowed in the early morning sun rays filtered by soft linen curtains crushed with age. He stretched and threw off the sheets to stand up by the large window running his hands through his longish hair to keep it out of his eyes. Martouf warned him to be discrete in all actions but he opened the shutters, leaning into the fresh air and looking down into the garden from, obviously, the second floor of a cottage. He looked over the scenery for a while, staring into the distance with a smile. His heart was singing.
Before long though, he became aware that flowing up the stairs and between the cracks in the door was a familiar aroma. He glanced around for something more to wear but ended up heading down as he was, to speak with whoever lived there.
He walked into the spacious kitchen and found no one there. The door was open and there was a pan on the stove smelling deliciously of meat and eggs, an oval, timber table was in the centre where he stood, bench tops around the walls and a pantry hung with dried and growing plants behind him. The fragrance of spring blossoms reminded him of home.
His eyes snapped back ahead as the screen door swung shut against its frame. An older woman stood against the sunlight a moment regarding him with an amused expression. His hair was smoothed back but wavy strands were ready to fall over his eyes again, bronzed, athletic, and in only his fitted, navy blue, uniform pants with bare feet on the wooden floor. His features were a mask of calm but she could see he was being cautious.
"Sutiana?" it was written on her apron.
"Ma'am will be fine."
He continued, "I am…"
She held her hand up, cutting him off, "there is no need, I have seen you among the guards."
He didn't know what to say, and so remained silent.
"Well sit down!" She commanded.
She scattered some salt into the pan, shook it and turned the food onto a nearby plate which she placed in front of him. He waited, wondering if she would eat with him.
"I've long since eaten," she said to the questioning look, "feeling any better?"
"Much. I must thank you for your nursing and hospitality."
"Do you know how you got here?"
At his blank look she told him "Someone sympathetic in the clean up crew from the city stopped by a few days ago with a cart full -- mostly-- of the dead. Since I had no one to contribute to his load headed for the graves, but rather have an empty bed in the house, you were dropped off."
"How fortuitous," he replied.
Leaning back against the bench opposite, she said, "A little more than that, I would say. No matter how many times the fort is taken no one can ever hold it."
"Indeed," he mused.
"Just remember, that that is not entirely because of you boys."
"Yes'm." he grinned. It faded quickly and his eyes absently searched the table.
He spoke quietly "…I don't remember anything before this… this morning."
She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms, "the city is in a mild state of chaos. It has been overrun by an invading army, we know not who they are, but they arrived seven days ago and flooded through the streets killing for days. Now there is no one left openly resisting. There is an acrid smoke blanketing the city – we expect them to make their announcements soon, once it clears away.
"If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll… find you something." she went upstairs to find him a change of clothes.
He was almost finished eating when he heard a scuffle close by. He turned his head to watch her walk back in but the hall was dark and empty.
Guess our hearing's off, he thought.
He left the table and pushed through the screen door, heard footsteps and sprinted around the house to the source. He stood straight holding firmly onto the young boy's collar, looked him over wryly and walked him in to take a seat. The boy remained silent, studying the place, as Lantash had that morning, then looked out through the windows and doors.
The lady of the house returned shortly with a towel and clothes she held up for him to see. A fine, cream, cotton shirt missing its top buttons and tan slacks. She put them on top of a stool by the door and handed the kid an apple from the pantry.
"What are you doing here, young man? Get yourself to school before that old ogre gets savage again," she said lightly.
The child was as surprised as he but hid it far better then dashed out the door.
"You know him?" he frowned in confusion. She looked pointedly at him and he caved, "ah... he was… lurking."
"And are you planning to relax the day away?" she shot. "Follow the path there down and turn left and the first fork, then right 'til you get to the lake."
He grabbed the things and left through the back garden finding the path into the forest.
"Mark my words: if you put me to shame when we get this army back up and running, I'll have you kicked to a world of pain," she called after him.
On returning to the house, he asked for a way to repay her kindnesses and was put to work on a fallen tree just within the brush. He was happy express himself to the tree for most of the day with a brand new axe; stopping occasionally to sit on it and chat over a cold sweet water drink, the lady sitting on a chair nearby.
"Your husband has passed away?" he checked. What he had seen of her house supported that.
She nodded, waiting to see where he would go with the topic but his mind was already elsewhere.
"Dinner will be ready after sunset, until then rest," she returned to the house.
He turned back to strike with the axe but when it fell, he looked up into the trees. That child stood not twenty feet away watching him. He left the axe and walked up to the small figure.
"Do you not recognise your superior officer?" he laughed, voice distorted.
"Interesting choice of host," Lantash replied.
"Mmm, I thought so."
He knelt and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder in greeting.
"Well, less memories to suppress." The Goa'uld commented.
In anger his grasp tightened.
The young face cringed, "Your grip is a bit…"
He let go, saying "You used to be of sterner stuff."
"A minor setback. I can assure you already: this body will serve me well," he stretched the little arms and fingers. "I feel… so much energy," he mused. "I could climb mountains!
"Anyway, I have found you a way to the chappa'ai. I will stay here to gather the rest of the men; as soon as you set step through the event horizon activate the message on this," he handed over a small communicator, "return when you have our objectives.
"Oh and here's your medallion." He frowned, "I have no idea how I came by it."
He held onto it as though it meant something to him. Reminded by Martouf to say thank you, he switched on the communicator and found a new map of the fort with notes on the movements of the invaders.
When it was time he appeared back at the house bathed and ready for dinner. After that it would be time to say goodbye. The table was set and lit by a lamp overhead. Some kind of casserole, a welcome change from whatever gruel he assumed he'd been eating lately.
"You have been so kind to me," he said, "and this is wonderful."
She nodded once, in acknowledgement.
"Who was the boy here this morning?" It passed as small talk.
"Oh my sister's son, from the city. Likes to paint the birds."
"He's quiet."
"Mute. There was an accident. He's sharp as ever though. Would you like more?"
"Yes, please," who knows when our next meal will be, he thought.
"Will you be staying?"
"I'm afraid not. Unless there is something else you would like me to do."
"No. Besides, you have someone awaiting your return," she deduced with a happy smirk.
How can they always tell? Martouf wondered.
Lantash didn't consider denying it, just studied the wall smiling, then watched his uniform turning from blue to black in theflames of the fireplace, thinking about the one he missed so painfully.