Author's Note: There's some history in this chapter… if it's not completely accurate, please don't bother to correct me on it. I've done as much research for it as I can (which is why it took me so long to get this chapter out) and I'm still not positive that it's perfect. It's good enough for the story, though. Hopefully!

OOOOOOOOOOOOo

Braxton looked at Daniel, his eyes wide.

"God?"

Daniel's eyes were just as wide, but his surprise at the letters in the dirt in front of him turned to confusion when the villager spoke up.

"What?"

"You know of God?" Braxton asked, and now there was total silence in the area as everyone turned to look at Daniel and the others.

Daniel hesitated.

"I know of… a God. But many people worship many different-"

"God!"

This time it was Richard, who had come forward, crouching down in front of Daniel and the rest of SG-1.

"Jehovah."

Daniel's jaw dropped. While every race and every set of aliens they'd ever met seemed to have the word god in their vocabularies, none had ever used that word before.

"I know who you mean," he said. "Are you saying you know who He is?"

"He is the Creator of all," Braxton said. "He made everything, including people. You know him?"

"Well… not personally," Daniel said. "I mean, we know of him – like you do – but we haven't really met or anything…"

Braxton glanced at Ian again, but then looked at Daniel, as if suddenly unwilling to appear rude by staring.

"What do you know of him? We –"

"Braxton," Daniel interrupted. "Do you remember any more of the symbols from the cave? Any more like these?" He pointed to the dirt. "It's important."

The man shook his head.

"I could only try – and I would probably not draw them correctly. There are many, many, pictures and I only remember those three because I actually touched them – although at the time I was not supposed to be there."

"Is it important?" Richard asked. He, too, had looked over at Ian, but then back at Daniel. "Does it have to do with God?"

Daniel shook his head, annoyed that his outburst – mild as it had seemed at the time – had produced such a response. His own fledgling suspicions were bearing fruit, but he needed these people to focus on one thing, and they had completely taken the conversation on another track – a track he wasn't really anxious to pursue. He didn't want to discuss religion with them – especially since there was a very real chance that they would take whatever he said so seriously it could screw with their own beliefs.

"It's important, yes. But no, it has nothing to do with God. It's more along the lines of trying to figure out something I'm curious about."

"You mean where my people came from…"

Braxton might be a simple hunter/villager, but he wasn't stupid.

"Yes. Maybe."

"What are you thinking, Daniel?" Jack asked, curiously.

"They call themselves the Brish, Jack. And they have accents so much like a BBC broadcast that it's almost a parody of one."

"Maybe it's just coincidence."

"I doubt it."

"You think the Goa'uld kidnapped some British people?" Ian asked, doubtfully, looking at the villagers. "They might sound a bit like them, but they don't look like any British people I've ever seen. And I've never heard of any reports of large groups of British people going missing."

"They look like a combination of a couple of things," Daniel said, disagreeing. "British and perhaps Native Americans. And I have read of a group of them gone missing – and so have you if you think about your History classes."

Jack scowled.

"What are you getting at?"

"Roanoke, Jack," Daniel said, looking at him. "In 1587 a colony – the first English colony in the New World – was established by a group of 120 or so people. When the next supply ship arrived, they couldn't find this group of settlers. There was no trace of them. Anywhere. "

"Roke!" Richard said, excitedly. He'd been listening – as had everyone else – and it was obvious from the reaction of those villagers that this word was important to them. "You know of this Roke?"

"What do you know of it, Richard?" Daniel asked, trying to suppress his own excitement. He was on the verge, after all, of solving one of the oldest American puzzles ever. "What can you tell me of Roke?"

"It's a place of legend, Daniel."

"Have you been there?"

"It's not real," Braxton said. "It's where God lives, waiting for…" He hesitated, and then fell silent, his eyes glancing to Ian once more, but then away. Daniel hadn't missed the look, though, and he looked over at Ian, too, thinking the cadet had done something; made a gesture or a noise or facial expression, that had drawn Braxton's attention. Ian wasn't doing anything, though.

"Waiting for what?" Daniel asked.

"It's just a story, Daniel."

"I'd like to hear it. Please?"

Braxton shook his head.

"It is not my story to tell. Tell me more of what you know of Roke, please?"

The villagers had inched closer – some were even within reach of Teal'c, now, forgetting in their interest and excitement that they were wary of the Jaffa.

"There's no more to tell," Daniel said, frustrated. He wanted to know what Braxton had been intending to say – because there was no doubt there was more to the legend. He was also certain that he wasn't going to be able to convince him to say anything more about it. Not just then, anyways. "The people vanished."

"And you think they came here?" Jack asked, doubtfully.

"Not just them, maybe," Daniel said. "Maybe there were some Native Americans caught up in it as well…"

"They still talk like British people," Ian said. "Wouldn't they have lost that accent in the last… what… 420-ish years?"

Daniel shook his head.

"People who don't change and grow tend to stagnate – as do their speech patterns. They'd have grown more pronounced, not less." He looked over at Braxton and Richard. "I have to see this cave."