John wriggled slightly in the undergrowth, trying to find a slightly more comfortable spot. They had taken 2 hours to walk to the villages that Sandro had mentioned. Three of the villages were deserted, burnt out shells of shattered dreams. John could tell that Sandro had been shocked by the state they were in. It was obvious from the scattered signs of everyday living, that the villages had been abandoned in a hurry, perhaps forcibly abandoned.

They were now watching the one remaining inhabited village. To John's eyes it looked little better than those they had abandoned. The buildings the people lived in were little more than mud huts, most in a state of complete disrepair. The pathways between the huts were mud tracks, and there was a general air of despondency about the place. Perhaps most shocking of all, there didn't appear to be any males over 14 years of age.

John could tell that Sandro had been even more shocked when he saw the state of the remaining village. Even now, his expression was thoughtful.

Beside him, John felt movement in the undergrowth. Rodney squirmed in beside him.

"What shall we do now?" he asked. "I don't think there is anyone there who's going to be able to help us free Carson and the children?" He nodded down towards the village.

"For once, Rodney," John admitted. "I agree with you. Those people there couldn't fight off a cold, never mind the Renegades."

"Do you think they will help us to find them?"

"I don't know," John said, his face serious. "Sandro said he thought they might. But I have to agree with Teyla, they look so defeated, I'm not sure they will be prepared to help."

"What more can go wrong?" Rodney asked.

"Don't say that, Rodney," John said sharply. "Every time you say that something else does go wrong."

"That's hardly my fault," Rodney said huffily. "Just because I have a more realistic view of the universe than most, there is no reason to blame me for my perception."

"Yeah" John said. "But which universe do you inhabit, Rodney?"

"I think I'll go back over and join Sandro," Rodney said with a sniff. "He at least seems to appreciate my insights."

"You do that, Rodney," John said.

Just as Rodney started to move, the sound of horses galloping filled the air. Rodney turned to John, a worried expression on his face. They both edge forward to get a clearer picture of the village below them.

At the entrance to the village, a group of men appeared on horseback, dressed in black leather.

"They are some of the men who took Carson," Teyla's voice sounded quietly in their ear-pieces.

"Now see what you've done," John said to Rodney. "You and your 'what more could go wrong?'."

"I can hardly be blamed for this planet's Neanderthals arriving like something out of a bad gothic novel," Rodney said, reasonably.

"No, but if you'd . . . ." Before John could continue their argument, the leader of the men strode forward. He raised his hand for silence and surveyed the people of the village, who all looked scared out of their skins.

"Rodney was right," John thought to himself. "It is like something out of a bad gothic novel."

"We have come to claim our reward," the man was saying. "We require the services of your men to fight for us. We demand you bring them to us."

John looked round, and noticed that all the young boys who had been there earlier had vanished. He couldn't blame them. If he'd been in their position, he would probably do the same thing. Well, maybe not. He would probably have found some way to attack them, but the end result would probably be the same.

At a signal from the leader, two of the men dismounted and started systematically searching the huts. Before long, they had found two young boys, both looked about 12.

"Is that all?" the leader asked, giving the villagers an intent look. "Two new fighters isn't going to last us very long. Surely you have more that we can use."

At that moment, two even younger boys, one about 6, the other about 8, ran into the village square. They had obviously been playing and hadn't noticed the new arrivals.

"Ah, very good," the leader said. "We have two more volunteers."

One of the woman ran forward, in tears. "You can't take them, my Lord," she said, her voice shaking. "They are only young, they are not of age."

"You are here to serve our needs," the leader said in a dispassionate voice. "We chose who we use, not you. Take them!" he ordered the men nearest to the boys.

"No!" the woman cried, throwing herself at the men.

One of the men slapped her across the face, with such force that she fell to the ground. One of the boys then started to attach the man, hitting him round his legs with a stick he had been holding.

The man raised his hand to hit the child. Before he could do anything further, he was halted by a bellow of rage. Out of the undergrowth, a large figure of a man, long hair flowing behind him, sprang at them. There was vengeance on his face.

"Don't touch the boy!" Ronon Dex's voice held more than a hint of steel. "Or you'll be very, very sorry."

Before the man could react, Ronon had knocked him unconscious with his stick and held his sword at the man's throat.

"Let the boys go," he ordered. The men looked at their leader, uncertainly. "I said let the boys go." Ronon repeated even more forcibly.

"Oh, boy," John said.

"What do we do now?" Rodney whispered.

"You stay here," John whispered back.

"And what are you going to do?" Rodney asked.

"Something I'll probably regret later," John replied. With that he got up to his feet and approached the village.

"You heard what he said," John called out. "Let the boys go."

The leader looked at them both, obviously trying to weigh up their options. After a moment, he nodded to the men holding the boys. "Release them," he ordered.

John smiled, relaxing slightly. "See," he said. "That wasn't too hard, now was it?"

"No," the man agreed. "After all, why should we take boys, when we have men we can take to fight for us instead?"

With those words, he signalled the men behind him. Two stepped forward and raised their weapons. Before either Ronon or John, had a chance to move, they were hit by a beam from the weapons and fell to the ground, stunned.