Chapter 2

The smell of cooking grain rose up to Daniel's rooftop perch from the kitchen below. One foot on the low parapet, he studied the pre-dawn that lightened the black velvet sky to navy blue. His weak eyes searched for columns of smoke or the smoldering fires of lingering battles. For the twenty-fifth morning in a row, there was nothing.

He recognized Khefti's perfume over the aroma of breakfast as the eunuch made his way up the outer stairs. Without turning, Daniel greeted him as he had every morning for nearly eight years.

"What do you see, my friend?"

A graceful hand curved over Daniel's shoulder. "Besides a man too burdened by his thoughts and regrets?" Khefti's response was familiar, too.

"Besides that." Daniel took Khefti's hand and kissed its once smooth back. The pampered eunuch had transformed himself into a roughened warrior with barely a backwards glance of regret for his former life of luxury in Ra's harem. "Please," Daniel urged. Great grandchild of the Ancients on Earth, Khefti's eyes were long-seeing, his thoughts fluid, and his actions languid with controlled strength. Daniel had no idea how an Ancient child had come to Egypt, how he'd been orphaned and abandoned here, but he was ever grateful.

Khefti sighed dramatically. "Besides the most handsome man in all the kingdoms worrying himself sick… I see …" He turned his shaved head to each compass point. "I see farmers rising to tend their crops. I see women carrying pails of goats' milk. I see fishermen hurrying to the river." He turned to Daniel, his dark eyes wet. "I see peace."

A weight flew from Daniel's shoulders to rise with the morning mists. He lifted his chin and closed his eyes before raising both hands to his forehead and then to the east in praise and supplication. "May it be so," he murmured in Abydonian, remembering a year of mornings – so long ago – when he'd greeted the dawn with his wife and brother.

Khefti joined the ancient salute, standing in silence until Daniel moved; respecting his friend's fleeting moment of serenity.

They performed their morning stretches and then sat knee to knee on thin pallets eating the gruel and dates Khefti had brought up from the kitchen. Teal'c joined them a few minutes later, bearing his own heartier fare of fish and bread.

After they'd broken their fast, Teal'c spoke.

"Is it time?"

Khefti watched Daniel through lowered lashes.

"I think it is," Daniel finally replied.

Teal'c nodded. "The last ring platform has been disabled. The artisans are content with the size of the stone we have moved to cover the Chappa'ai and are hard at work choosing designs for its face. The Goa'uld can neither dial in from another location, nor utilize the rings to descend from ships."

"I have but to gather the food supplies we will need." Khefti fidgeted with excitement. "You have told me of the place of ice and snow where we must stop. The little ship now holds robes and blankets aplenty, jars of water, and sleeping mats."

"And you have learned much of flying, Khefti." Teal'c bowed his head almost regally. "This flight to your polar region should prove to be but another practice flight before our longer journey."

Khefti preened under Teal'c's praise as he'd blossomed under the Jaffa's patient teaching. "Who knew when I was taken by Ra as a child that I would someday stand beside such stalwart warriors," he smiled.

Daniel touched the eunuch's bent knee. "You're the only reason we managed to succeed, my friend. The gods placed you within Ra's household a lamb, but gave you the heart of a lion of Nubia."

The slim man blushed, his fondness – outright attraction, the archaeologist admitted – shining from his eyes.

"Today, then," Teal'c stated.

"Yes. We'll leave during the heat of the day when others are taking their rest." Daniel recognized the urgent need in Teal'c's voice. The Jaffa had come to him a month ago to speak of his fear that burying the Stargate would still trap one living Goa'uld symbiote on Earth. His symbiote. Eventually it would mature. And either Teal'c would kill it and die, or it would take a host and live.

Daniel had not hesitated. Including Teal'c in his 'exit strategy' made his heart lift with cautious gladness. That he could take this nearly identical twin of his good friend along on his last journey was an unlooked-for reward.

"Will you not take your leave of O'Neill and Doctor Carter?"

Khefti made a rude noise and looked away.

Daniel studied his folded hands. He told himself that they'd find out soon enough. He told himself that his absence – Teal'c's absence – would be more relief than grief. O'Neill was happy in the house he'd chosen for the couple, happy to go out and fish every day, with no other responsibilities looming. The Egyptians were rebuilding, choosing their own leaders, their own ways, both political and religious, and O'Neill wanted no part of it. He was officially retired, for the second time. Daniel couldn't begrudge him his rest.

Dr. Carter was learning. Learning a new language. And old science. The oldest, Daniel smiled. In less than six months she'd be a mother – without any of the labor and time saving devices of the 20th century. If there was the least bit of Sam Carter in her make-up, she'd be pretty damn good at it, too.

"They have fought bravely, Daniel. Do they not deserve a good-bye?"

At least this iteration of Teal'c was willing to call him 'Daniel,' he thought wryly, looking off into the distance. "I don't –" He shook his head. How could he tell this hardened warrior that saying good-bye to Jack O'Neill was something he'd never wanted to face again?

"Rohi."

Daniel turned at Khefti's endearment, surprised by the look of open despair on his friend's face.

"Daniel, my soul," the eunuch continued. "You must face this man, face the losing of your last tie to this great friendship." His slim hand cradled Daniel's cheek. "If you do not, you will always be haunted by … by your other leave-taking."

Frowning furiously, Daniel couldn't turn away. Khefti had found him after – after Jack died. Had found him wandering the dunes a few days later, his skin burned and dried, lips cracked, close to collapse from dehydration, exhaustion; grief and guilt. He'd shaken Daniel from his nightmares, and listened to his inebriated babbling. And he'd never judged.

"I –"

"You are wise, Daniel. Your wisdom makes you a cunning and passionate warrior." Teal'c spoke softly, gently, betraying a wealth of affection. "Allow others to lead you in this and you will be victorious as you have been over Ra and his minions."

Daniel's laugh was choked, humorless. "You two have too much faith in me." There could be no victory for him now.

Teal'c's posture was upright and strong – as usual – and he stared straight into Daniel's eyes. "Khefti and I shall await you at the time-ship two hours after the mid-day meal." He rose in one motion and held out his hand.

Resigned, Daniel clasped the Jaffa's forearm and allowed himself to be pulled up and into Teal'c's swift embrace. When they parted he blinked tears from his eyes and watched the strong back until it vanished down the stairs.

The clay cups were stacked, the wooden bowls gathered onto the tray with deft motions before Khefti rose to carry them away, leaving Daniel to his thoughts with a sad smile and an unspoken order to go. Daniel shook his head and took one last look over the village that had been his home for so many years. The darkness that crept in along the edges of his sight was not danger – it wasn't a false god's return or the shadow of death.

The skies were clear. The air, pure. The darkness was only within him.

Maybe they were right. Maybe it was time.