“Hold your hands where we can see them!” A man’s voice rang out, the local inhabitants crowding back away from him as he strode through the crowd. He was very tall, his head shaved in the summer heat, wearing a tunic that didn’t quite come to his knees and a bronze breastplate over it. He held a long spear in his hand, the point higher than the top of his head. “Do not move, or we shall regard it as an act of aggression!”
“The head honcho,” John said in a low voice.
Teyla nodded. She didn’t think the man looked particularly threatening. He seemed more annoyed than anything else, as a leader will when something spoils their scheduling and their day is suddenly interrupted by the unexpected.
“We’re very friendly,” John said with another ingratiating smile. “Just travelers with an accident.”
“They came from the sky,” one of the villagers began, but the tall man shot him a silencing look.
“We crashed our ship,” John said, turning toward him. “It was an accident. See? Me and my friend here are hurt. We don’t want to start any trouble.”
Teyla thought his voice didn’t sound right. He is more hurt than he admits, Teyla thought. It must be a priority to get medical attention, or at least to get John to a place he might rest out of the heat.
“I am Tolas, Ruler of a Thousand,” the man said. “Is it true you came from the sky?”
That would be the question, Teyla thought. Probably the only ships they had ever seen were Wraith. “We have never been here before,” she answered cautiously. “We came from the sky, but we are human, as you can see.”
She saw his brow furrow, then relax. Yes, she thought. They know the Wraith, and like all people they fear them.
“Who are you?” Tolas demanded. “And what do you want?”
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard,” John replied, “and this is Teyla Emmagan. We’re explorers.”
“We did not mean to be here,” Teyla said, with a swift look at him. He looked pale even in the bright sun. “We were hurt in the crash of our ship. We would request that we be taken to a healer as soon as possible. We have things to trade, and are eager to come to agreements with you.”
John glanced at her sharply but didn’t argue. Worse, Teyla thought. He is bad indeed if he will not balk at that.
One of the villagers dragged at Tolas’ arm, and he leaned down to speak with him.
“Are you dizzy?” Teyla whispered. “John?”
He nodded, his jaw clenched shut, his fingers white on the stock of the P90.
Concussion, she thought. Perhaps it would not be dangerous in Atlantis, but they were not in Atlantis, and she was not Dr. Beckett.
Tolas straightened up. “We have a healer,” he said. “And we will take you to her in the name of humanity. We can discuss your trades later.”
“Agreed,” Teyla called back. “Now let us go.” She slung the weapon down, wincing at the pull against her left shoulder. Away from the crash site and the guests of people — that was the best they could hope for.
It was not terribly far to the nearest village, only two or three miles, but more than once John had to stop and lean on her for a few moments, too dizzy and nauseated to go on. The village looked much as Teyla had expected, a town of perhaps forty or fifty mud brick buildings near the small lake that made up the center of the oasis, surrounded by billowing palm trees and irrigated gardens that took up every bit of available room near the water. Domestic fowl ran loose, and children came running to see the newcomers, barefoot but unafraid.
“They must not be Culled often,” Teyla said to John in a low voice. “They are not frightened enough.”
He didn’t reply, just kept his head down and walked on doggedly.
Teyla sped up to catch Tolas, walking at the head of the party. “Where are you taking us?”
“To the Main House,” he replied. “It is where our visitors stay. And there I will have the doctor for you.” His eyes did not evade hers, as those of men often did, depending on the culture of their world. It was a good sign, Teyla thought, that he spoke to her comfortably, saying much about the place of women here. All too often she’d been ignored, or had the local inhabitants of a place speak only to Sheppard or McKay or Lt. Ford.
“We will be in your debt,” Teyla said formally. “My friend is hurt and we will appreciate your doctor’s concern.”
Tolas cast an appraising glance over John, his brows knitting. “The healer is skilled,” he said.
“I am glad to hear that,” Teyla replied.
The Main House was larger than she had expected, three stories surrounded by a wall of painted mud brick, a fortified house of some size. Inside the walls were gardens, and she dimly had the impression of tiled floors and cool interior as they were hurried through. John staggered, and she caught him with her good arm. “Not far now,” she said.
“Here,” Tolas said, and threw open a door. Teyla helped John through.
It was a small room with walls washed in pale blue paint, two tiny windows high up in the wall letting in light, furnished with three carved wooden chairs, a table, and a bed piled with blue blankets. A hanging lamp of bronze intricately worked with snakes hung from the ceiling above, unlit in the middle of the day, while a small side table held several pottery jars.
“The doctor will be here in a moment,” Tolas said, and backed out while she helped John to the side of the bed.
He lay back on the pillows, his eyes clenched tight as one will when the world seems to spin around. Blood had soaked through the bandage on his forehead and smeared across his face.
“Here,” Teyla said, taking weapon and pack from him and putting them on the floor. “Just lie still for a bit.” The room was surprisingly cool given the heat outside. The walls must be very thick to insulate so well.
“I think I’ve got a concussion,” John managed.
“I know you do,” Teyla said, putting her own things down beside his. Her shoulder was throbbing and her left hand mostly useless. “But we will not be here long. We will get back to Atlantis soon.”
“The jumper…”
“The jumper is destroyed,” Teyla said firmly. “But we left Rodney at the DHD, if you do not remember. As soon as we are overdue, Dr. Weir will dial in and Rodney will tell her that we have not returned. She will send another jumper through, and our crash site is very visible from the air. Major Lorne will fan out from there in a search, so I do not think it will be later than tomorrow morning that we will see them arrive, and then we will be back to Atlantis in no time at all.”
John started to nod, then looked like he thought better of moving his head. “Yeah. Only what about the Wraith? That cruiser…”
“Was not anywhere near the gate,” Teyla said soothingly, trying to lift the edge of the dressing on his head without tearing the scab if it had formed. He really should not lose more blood. “And Lorne and Rodney will be alert, since they will know we must have met trouble. Tomorrow at the latest we will be back in Atlantis, and Dr. Beckett will be complaining that you are injured again.” Stuck down, she thought, checking the bandage. Water would soak it free without pulling. “What is it he says? That he needs a loyalty scheme for you?”
John snorted. “Just about.” He twisted a little, uncomfortably. “How’s your shoulder?”
“I will manage,” Teyla said.
The door opened again and two men stepped in carrying long spears, their shaved heads glistening with sweat, bronze breastplates glittering. Between them stood an elderly woman carrying a bag. She was dark eyed and dark skinned, her graying hair caught up in a multitude of tiny plaits, each one wrapped round with copper wire. She wore a floor length robe of draped linen, much finer cloth than that of the soldiers who accompanied her, and her voice was lightly accented.