Thanks again for the reviews and the alerts, they mean a lot.

Well, what has Atlantis been doing to find their missing Military Commander? Read on and find out!

DAMAGED

CHAPTER 9

Rodney couldn't recall where or when he remembered him from, but there was something familiar about the smug, supercilious expression that made him positive he'd met the slim, fair-haired man before. The cut of his ornate, golden robes was oddly reminiscent of a race they'd once encountered, bringing back a strange memory of falling, and nearly dying in some sort of tunnel. Then, after a 'd'oh moment, and resisting the urge to hit himself on the head as per Homer Simpson, he stupidly realised that would probably describe most of the missions he'd been on, the whole nearly dying thing a regular occurrence being part of Sheppard's team.

Still, while Woolsey was doing his diplomatic thing, and giving the usual spiel they gave to new prospective trading partners, he cast a discreet sideways glance at the not so strange stranger, trying to figure out where they'd met. The impressive castle they were currently in, turned out to be another clue, as suddenly like a bolt out the blue it hit him.

"I know you," Rodney blurted out, interrupting Woosley in full flow, incurring a warning glare in the process. "You were one of the nobles from the Tower!" he squeaked, happy that his memory hadn't failed him. "In fact, you kinda remind me of that Tavius guy, the one with the hot sister, Mara."

By now he could practically see the steam coming from Woolsey's ears, but was on too much of a roll to care. "Hold on…wait a minute, I remember now. Didn't your title once belong to that old guy who was poisoned?" Rodney asked, and to his satisfaction he saw momentary confusion cross the smug face before the man quickly composed himself.

"As a matter of fact, I thought I recognised you, Doctor McKay, when you first walked in. You are also correct regarding the family resemblance, as Mara and Tavius are distant cousins though my fathers line, although unfortunately I haven't seen them since I left the Tower many years ago," the man replied, his voice now completely unfazed by the revelation. "However, with regards to the title, Lord Protector is a generic designation used amongst my people to describe the ruler of the household."

Before Rodney could speak again, Woolsey drew him a dirty look and interrupted. "Please excuse me, Lord Protector, but I must admit to being at a disadvantage here, as I was not present in Atlantis at the time of that particular mission," he pointed out, then asked. "However, can I assume that if you recognise Doctor McKay, you would also remember Colonel Sheppard?"

"Certainly," he nodded, "although the man who brought enlightenment to our people was only a major then, but I assume we are talking about the same man?"

"Yes, yes…of course," Rodney muttered impatiently, already suspicious about him after remembering what a bunch of petty, spoiled people the nobles were. "Forgive me if I'm out of line here, Lord Chancellor, but I got the distinct impression you guys weren't too amused at Sheppard after he arranged for the gene therapy to be given to everyone. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but afterwards, didn't the peasants' enlightenment shift the balance of power to them…is that why you left?"

"Doctor McKay!" Woolsey glared at him, his clipped tone showing he was clearly annoyed. However the ex- nobleman merely raised his hand to forestall any further protest, and gave Rodney a searching look.

"Please, Mr Woolsey do not concern yourself…Doctor McKay's assertion was quite correct," he said, with no appearance of bitterness, as he rose and crossed the room to help himself to a glass of wine from an ornate crystal decanter on the credenza, before returning to sit behind the desk. "It's completely true. When Major Sheppard thwarted the plans of the Lord Chamberlain, and then, your good Doctor Beckett distributed the gene therapy to the peasants, we, the nobles, quickly lost our hold on power. Not long afterwards, unsurprisingly, there was an uprising so, finding we were no longer welcome I, along with many of the court, decided to seek our fortunes elsewhere."

Rodney watched, thirsty, as the ungracious host took a long sip, before continuing.

"I will admit that in the beginning, I, along with the other displaced nobles, was extremely angry with the major for his interference, but in the end, I realised he actually did me a favour." he continued, as he eased himself further back into his chair, appearing completely relaxed. "After I left, it was necessary to earn a living for the first time in my life, and, forced to fend for myself, I discovered I had quite a talent for business and quickly amassed a small fortune." Then putting down the glass he sighed, looking sad. "Of course I had to give it all up when I got word my uncle had passed, leaving this castle and all of his estate to me. To be frank, Mr Woolsey, it wasn't what I wanted, but I'm the last of his line, and the people here need a ruler," he said, sounding extremely righteous, as he lifted up the glass again to drain the remainder of the contents, before looking over and giving Woolsey a quizzical glance. "By the way, where is Colonel Sheppard, I thought he would have joined you today?"

"Actually, Lord Protector that is one of the reasons why we're here…" Woolsey started to speak, clearly embarrassed that the real reason for the visit had been revealed so soon, when Rodney heard a knock on the door, and everyone turned to see the entrance of a large, well-built man, with long red hair.

"Master. I apologise for the interruption, but there is a problem with one of the...staff. May I have leave to call the physician?" The man bowed his head slightly, but it was obvious he was worried.

"I am sure it's nothing that you won't be able to handle yourself. After all, Chamberlain, that is what you're paid for. Now as you can see I am in the middle of a meeting…" As the master of the house rudely dismissed him, Rodney saw a flash of anger cloud the big guy's face just for a second, before he quickly concealed it and nodded sharply before leaving the room.

The Lord Protector waited until the door closed, then smiled apologetically. "I do apologise for the interruption…now what were you saying, Mr Woolsey?"

Woolsey coughed, to clear his throat. "As I was saying, although we are here to establish trading links with your people, I was also hoping you would be able to furnish me with some information."

"Of course, I would like to help in any way that I can." The blonde head bobbed, as the man leaned forward and put his arms on the desk clasping his hands, appearing curious. "What is it you would like to know?"

Woolsey asked pointedly, but politely, the $64,000 question. "Colonel Sheppard went missing while on a mission to the Pallonian settlement over two weeks ago, and I'm given to understand, you were purchasing some livestock from the Pallonian's on the same day. I wondered if you'd seen him or knew of his whereabouts."

There was a moment's silence when the blue eyes became like ice. "That's unfortunate, but no, I didn't see him while I was there. Why would you think I know anything?" the Lord Protector asked, clearly annoyed.

Much to Rodney's admiration, Woolsey ignored the dark look and continued undaunted. "It is not my intention to accuse you of anything, Lord Protector, but from one leader to another, I am sure you understand we need to follow up every lead."

Almost instantly, the anger dissipated as a bland mask appeared, and he nodded his head sadly. "Of course, and I'm terribly sorry I can't help, but as I've already said, I didn't see Colonel Sheppard during my visit. In fact, I didn't stay long at all, because just as I was concluding my business with Chief Falack, he told me they were preparing to whip some poor man to test his courage. He asked if I wanted to stay and watch, but as I can't abide violence of any kind, I quickly paid for my purchases and left."

As Woolsey went on to explain that Sheppard was the victim Falack had spoken spoke of, Rodney saw the man cringe, a feeling he well understood, having been unable to get a decent night's sleep since Teyla told him what went down that day. The graphic nightmares woke him up shaking, covered in sweat, as he envisaged his friend hanging upside down getting brutally whipped.

How Sheppard got himself into so much trouble, Rodney didn't know. John could be snarky, impatient and irritated the hell out of him sometimes, but the flyboy was smart and a good friend. He didn't deserve all the crap that went his way, and as for getting beat up for trying to help a kid…that really was the pits. Still, from watching the expression on Teyla's face, it was obvious she was thinking what he was - this lead was a bust. By all appearances, while the Lord Protector might be an arrogant SOB, the guy didn't know anything.

However, just as Woolsey was about to continue speaking, the Lord Protector suddenly got to his feet, clearly signalling the short meeting was over. "I hope you'll excuse me as I have other business to attend to, but you can be assured, Mr Woolsey, that if I do come across any information, I will, of course, contact you immediately."

Undaunted, Woolsey slowly rose from the high backed wooden chair and made to leave, showing no trace of embarrassment at being effective thrown out. "Thank you, I appreciate that. But regarding the matter of the trading agreement, do you wish to reschedule a return visit for another time?"

For a moment, Rodney saw the blonde man hesitate, then put out his hand. "If you leave me your contact details, I may be in touch…although honestly, I think Etraska can do without another trading partner at the moment."

To his credit, Woolsey appeared to ignore the rebuff, and gave a ghost of a smile as he handed over details of an identification code for the Etrakians to use should they change their minds, then turned in no particular rush, to give him and the others a nod to make their way out the castle.

Ronon looked pissed, and Teyla's pale face bereft as she quickly made towards the door, and despite also feeling demoralised, Rodney felt for his Athosian teammate, as in spite of everything anyone said, he knew she still felt guilty for leaving John in the desert.

No one spoke as the dejected group made their way back across the wooden drawbridge, not one comment about what could be lurking within the moats murky depths. They all remained silent, but he knew they were thinking the same thing, knowing as the large gates slammed behind them, so had the door on their last decent lead…

ooooOoooo

Garmend was exhausted. It had been a gruelling few weeks at the conference, but he was confident Etraska's future was secure, at least for the time being. Pleased he'd managed to negotiate a small increase in profits from the trading agreements set in place, though now longing for a hot bath, a warm meal and an early night.

At least he did, until he met the delegation from Atlantis just as he arrived through the 'gate, then his heart sank. Confronted with the unfamiliar faces wearing what was obviously some sort of military attire, he wondered if they might be an advance party seeking to invade his estate. However, after speaking to their leader, a Mr Woolsey, he was only partly relieved to find out while the Atlantians were only seeking information and trade, his shiftless nephew had been at it again.

Furious, he couldn't believe Ballam actually had the gall to mislead these strangers into thinking that not only was he dead, but that Ballam himself was the Lord Protector. Besides the lying, it was also downright reckless to send away a potential ally, especially one who might be able to provide some assistance should the Wraith turn their attention to his small empire. As it was, some of his former associates had been missing from the trading forum this year, either dead, or their lands so devastated by culling they were left with nothing. In any case, Garmend hoped these Atlantians might be able to help him with another problem - something more personal, as for some time now he'd been plagued by stomach cramps, and so far none of the doctors he'd consulted had been able to help.

These were uncertain times, and although Etraska was faring better than most, with larger yields of crops, fruit and increased cattle production, the fact remained that even he would have to sell off at least one additional breeding pair of slaves to maintain his profit margin. It was something he was loath to do, as many of the older slaves were not as productive as they used to be, but neither would they fetch much if he were to sell them at market…Still, in the end, Garmend conceded that might may be the only solution.

The hot flush of humiliation still lingered at having to lie in order to save his reputation, and to prevent Ballam's tall tales from bringing the house of Etraska into disrepute, although he was now reasonably sure the astute Mr Woolsey believed his story that Ballum suffered mental health problems. The sad story of his nephew's lapses after a near tragic riding accident had been suitably convincing, though completely untrue. It was a shameless deception he wasn't proud of, but at least the bespectacled man seemed to believe him, as he'd merely smiled and agreed to return for further talks the following week.

His head was pounding just thinking about what he was going to do with the feckless young man. If Ballum was one of his slaves the solution would be simple. He would have him thrown into the dungeon or even whipped, but he wasn't…the boy was family, the most direct heir left of the Calunda dynasty, and the eventual head of Etraska upon his ultimate demise.

Of course, Garmend realised he should have married, but having taken succession when he was only nineteen upon the death of his own esteemed father, there never seemed to be the time. Now it was unfortunately much too late. He was an old man, nearly in his seventieth year, and with no heirs, at least none eligible to the throne, he had reached out to the last of his line… regrettably to find the biggest degenerate in the whole of Pegasus. How his fine family was reduced to this corrupt, lazy man he didn't know, but only hoped under his guidance Ballum could change…

Action was required, though, as this particular misdemeanour could not be overlooked. But what to do?

"Hamlane…is that you?" Out of the corner of his eye, Garmend saw a flash of the distinctive red hair as his Chamberlain started down the stairs to the dungeon.

"Lord Protector. It's good to have you back, Master." The man halted his progress and quickly came before him, giving him a low bow and wearing a relieved smile on his face.

Garmend was fond of Hamlane. The man was honest, hardworking and everything Ballam wasn't. Even the slaves respected him, although it was a respect tinged with fear, just as it should be - given his role. "I was just coming to see you, Chamberlain. I understand my nephew had visitors today."

"Yes, but I only found out myself when I went to see him," Hamlane replied calmly, but Garmend knew his Chamberlain well enough by now to detect a note of resentment in his low grating voice.

"I trust he accorded you the respect your position deserves, Hamlane?" When he saw an embarrassed flush spread over the big man's face, he guessed he'd been right - Ballam had obviously humiliated him again in front of strangers, so he pressed the issue. "I would like to think by now, Chamberlain, you would trust me with the truth, so please…tell me what happened."

Hamlane seemed to think about what he was going to say before he replied. "I'm sure he didn't really mean it, Master...however, if I may put the same request to you?"

"Certainly, what is it you want?" Garmend asked, curious as to what troubled his Chamberlain so much that he could risk incurring the wrath of his nephew when Ballam found out he'd gone over his head.

"The new slave is very ill. A serious infection has set in where he was branded, and it's gone too far for me to treat without medical intervention…I would like permission to call in a physician," Hamlane asked, a note of concern clear in his voice.

Garmend was puzzled. When he'd left over three weeks ago there were no new slaves, which begged the question, who was this new acquisition, and what was more pertinent – who had authorised his purchase? "Hamlane, I don't recall buying a new slave, and even if I had, there would have been no reason to have him branded. Is Master Ballam responsible for this?"

Hamlane nodded, again appearing uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Master, I forgot that you were away on business at the time..."

"Do not be concerned, Chamberlain, I just need to know what happened," Garmend interrupted, then listened intently while Hamlane told him the whole sorry tale. Anger growing with every word, as he realised the full extent of what his worthless nephew had been up to while he was away.

When his faithful servant finally finished, he nodded, silently considering what to do next. "So, what you are saying is this man has become ill, because my nephew resurrected a defunct method of marking ownership that hasn't been used here for some time?"

"I would not like to lay the blame at the young Master's door, Lord Protector. After all, the slave's weakened condition beforehand probably contributed to his illness," Hamlane pointed out, generously in Garmend's view, giving Ballam the benefit of the doubt.

"Your loyalty to my nephew is commendable, but undeserved, Hamlane," Garmend muttered under his breath, as he folded his arms and looked up to the fading light streaming through the window, trying to make a decision. "Fine, send for the physician. As you know I don't usually like setting this type of precedent, but due my nephew's reckless behaviour …I will deduct the fee from his allowance."

Garmend was sure he detected the other man's lips twitching, but chose to ignore it, unable to blame him for laughing, as he found the small revenge amusing himself. All too aware even that small loss of income would probably hurt Ballam more than the bite of any whip.

"Now, I am heading to my chambers," Garmend went to move away, then stopped, and turned to address Hamlane once more. "Could you ask Madam Tresin to arrange for some refreshment to be brought to my quarters? Nothing too fancy, just some cold cuts and some wine…perhaps Marella could bring it. She is a sweet child, and if prevailed upon might just tell me some of the more amusing gossip since I've been away." He smiled, trying to share the small joke, but upon watching the colour drain from Hamlane's face, his blood ran cold.

"I'm so sorry, Master. Marella was found cavorting with another slave…" Hamlane suddenly stopped, appearing uncharacteristically upset, so Garment waited for a moment, until the man regained his composure and continued. "I intended to punish them by having them spend a few days in the dungeon, but then the young Master found out and took the matter out of my hands."

Anger welled up for the third time that day, and it wasn't lost on Garmend that he'd only been back for less than an hour. His return home turning into a nightmare, but he still needed to know what the boy had done.

"Spit it out, man…what did he make you do?"

"He ordered them whipped, fifteen lashes…but it was too much for the young girl to bear and she died shortly afterwards…" Hamlane's voice filled with remorse and trailed away, leaving both men stunned in the silent corridor.

All thoughts of a quiet night now shattered, Garmend turned to Hamlane and spoke in a low, calm voice laced with steel. "Belay my last instruction, Hamlane, as I appear to have lost my appetite. I would, however, like to speak to my nephew. Bring him to my office please…now, and if he refuses, drag him there in chains if you have to."

ooooOoooo

TBC

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