Author's note: Just a quick look inside Ian's head for those of you who were wondering (if anyone is). Remember, Ian doesn't relate all that well to kids. He doesn't get along with them – as seen in the Thanksgiving story – and Taylor gave him a scare (whether he'll admit it or not) so he's pretty much holding a grudge.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Daniel managed to hold in his curiosity for all of a half-mile or so before he finally started asking Taylor questions.

"How far away is your village?"

"Not far."

Taylor was hurting and pale and even with help from both sides, he was struggling – but trying to hide it. He definitely didn't feel like talking. He needed all his breath for walking.

"What do they call themselves?" Daniel asked.

"What?"

"What name do they go by?"

"My mom and dad?"

Daniel shook his head, noticing that the boy seemed to be struggling and taking more of his weight off his leg with each step.

"No. Your people. How do they call themselves?"

"We call ourselves the Brish."

"British?"

It could have been the accent, but Daniel's mind heard British, not Brish. Ian caught it, though, and shook his head.

"He said Brish, Daniel, not British."

"We are you from?" Daniel asked, ignoring Ian.

"My village."

"No, I mean your people."

"They're from my village, too."

Ian snorted.

"He's a little kid, Daniel. He doesn't have a clue what you're asking him."

Taylor looked over at Ian – who, admittedly, frightened him a little. And for good reason, since he seemed to care even less for him than the Jaffa did - which was saying something.

"What is he asking?"

"He wants to know if your people lived somewhere else before they lived where they're living now. Like in another place – before they moved to their village."

"Oh." The boy shrugged – which was difficult to do with hands under his armpits supporting him. "I don't know."

Of course he didn't, Daniel thought to himself. As Ian had said, he was just a little kid. They'd need to ask someone a bit older – someone who might know. Because Daniel was definitely curious about Taylor's people and where they had originated.

They fell silent again, mainly because Daniel could tell that Taylor was hurting and didn't want to talk. He offered to carry him several times, but the boy shook his head stubbornly, saying he could walk. It was probably a matter of pride, Daniel decided. The boy had already been captured by the enemy (or whatever he perceived SG-1 to be) and to be carried home by them was more than he could take. Even if it meant walking on a leg that had to be killing him – even with the healing Ian had done.

OOOOOOOO

The dogs were their first warning. Jack (the dog) who had been walking just a little ahead of Teal'c – who had point – gave a low warning growl. Teal'c stopped immediately, watching the big yellow lab, who had his head down and one front foot cocked as he stared into the brush ahead of them. The Jaffa brought his staff weapon up, pressing the button that armed the device, although he wasn't going to fire until he knew who and what he was firing at.

Jaffer, who had been walking beside Jack in the rear, also growled, although his head swung towards their left, where he watched some heavy bushes intently. Jack's P90 came up immediately and Teal'c and he closed ranks on Ian and Daniel and their guest quickly, not wanting to get separated.

Since Ian had Daniel's P90 slung over his shoulder, the archeologist wasn't in a position to be of much use in a firefight. He had his sidearm, but it was an awkward angle with Taylor's weight against that arm – especially since Ian had let go of the boy as soon as Jack (the dog) had stopped ahead of him, and had brought his own P90 to bear. Someone was in the bushes and trees around them, but if they'd hoped for an ambush, they might as well hope that it'd start raining pretzels. They hadn't been spotted, but they weren't going to be able to surprise anyone.

As if they had figured that out as well, there was a rustle in the heavy brush to the left, and a single man stepped out into the small area they'd been walking in. He was tall, tanned, and was dressed similarly to Taylor – which was to say all that he was wearing was a simple loincloth. His hair was as dark as Ian's, but his eyes were a pale blue – and he was holding a bow, with an arrow notched and pointed directly at Daniel.

"Release the boy."

His voice was deep, and he, too, had that same accent.

Jack's P90 turned on the man, and Jaffer's low growl carried easily across the short distance.

"Drop that…" Jack said.

The man's eyes darted from Jack to Jaffer, and back to Daniel and Taylor. Then rested on Teal'c and Jack (the dog).

"Who is your master, Jaffa?" He asked. "Which system lord has-"

"I have no master," Teal'c replied.

"You lie."

Teal'c's staff weapon turned on the man.

"Easy, Teal'c," Jack said. As much as he wanted this stalemate to end, he didn't want it to end with an arrow sticking out of any part of Daniel.

"Let the boy go," the man repeated.

"Drop that bow," Jack said – again. "We can talk about this. We don't want to hurt anyone."

"You're with a Jaffa." Again the suspicious eyes rested on Teal'c.

"He's not what you think he is."

The suspicion didn't fade – it didn't even waver – but the bow was brought to bear on O'Neill, as if the man realized that he, and not the Jaffa, was the one in charge. Jaffer's growl deepened at the change and the lab crouched, just waiting for an opportunity. He was more than willing to teach this man why one didn't point a weapon at Jack O'Neill.

"Jaffer, down." Jack didn't want the lab hurt by a stray arrow – any more than he wanted Daniel to be. He raised the P90 a little more, pointing it at the man's chest, now. "Don't make me kill you."

In response, the bushes all around them rustled, and more people emerged. All of them armed with either bows or with spears. Twelve in all, and every weapon pointed at one of the members of SG-1.