"They can't miss that," Ronon asserted. "Let's go."
He chose an exploratory route that wound through the trees. Teyla allowed him to lead, keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. As they walked, she noticed a gradual incline to the forest floor. It was difficult to judge distances while the trees obscured her view, but there were mountains not far off, and they were approaching the foothills.
Bending low, Ronon examined a scuff mark in the dirt. "More animal tracks," he said quietly. "Pretty recent."
After nearly an hour of hiking, the forest thinned, and the terrain dipped to form a cave of sorts in the side of a hill. Before Teyla could take more than a cursory look, she heard a soft noise, as if branches had brushed together. She lengthened her stride and signaled for Ronon to listen, causing him to halt in mid-stride.
The noise repeated, and she caught a tiny blur of motion off to her right. Both she and Ronon dropped into a crouch to avoid giving away their presence. A creature ducked around the hill and sniffed at the moss on the trunk of a nearby tree. It appeared similar to a game animal her people had hunted on Athos — but smaller, standing only as high as her waist. She considered it a blessing; if luck had deserted them completely, they might have found this planet barren of any food sources.
Ronon advanced into the clearing without a sound, drawing his blaster from its holster. He took careful aim and-
"Stop! Name yourselves."
Instinctively the Satedan brought his weapon to bear as he whirled toward the voice. Teyla extended a calming hand. A local populace could be an even greater blessing to them. "We are lost travelers," she called into the woods.
To her surprise, a group of eight men and women materialized out of the trees, emerging from behind boulders and climbing down from branches. She identified them as hunters upon seeing the spears and bows they carried.
Ronon looked impressed that the group had escaped his detection, though not impressed enough to lower his blaster. Fixing him with a pointed stare, Teyla laid her hand on his arm until he relented. "We mean your people no harm. Rather, we ask your assistance," she continued in a measured tone.
The hunters' response was to raise their bows. "How simple-minded do you believe us to be?" sneered the leader. "Your kind is well known among us, marauder. We refuse to be deceived."
Marauder? Sharing a glance with Ronon, Teyla began to get a sense of what her Earth-born teammates called deja vu.
Chapter ten
As soon as the hunting party aimed their weapons, Ronon had his trained as well. Sure, they could use these people's help, but not if the price was to be an arrow in his chest. Hadn't they just had this same experience on P7L-418?
"You have been visited by raiders as well?" Teyla seemed to be considering the probability of such a coincidence. Not likely, to Ronon's way of thinking. Maybe the raiders on 418 hadn't dialed this place by mistake after all. "We do not belong to their number. In fact, we were attempting to stop them on another world when we were accidentally transported here."
"A convenient tale." The lead hunter sized them up, pale eyes sharp with distrust. Her dark hair was captured in a tight knot at the nape of her neck, giving her face an angular, severe look. She looked skittish. The whole group did, come to think of it.
"An honest tale," Teyla returned. "We carry only what you see. We have little food and no means of transport. How can we be a threat to you?"
"That question has been answered in painful fashion before."
One of the hunters stepped forward-an adolescent, younger than any member of the Atlantis expedition. "Dantir, keep your place!" hissed the leader.
The teen ignored the warning, openly studying Ronon. "I've never seen anyone as big as you," he observed.
"It's not so rare where I come from." Ronon noted that all the hunters were relatively slight, some bordering on malnourished. None of them stood even as high as his shoulder. They wore boots that appeared to be nothing more than thick soles bound to their feet and laced up over the ankle. Their clothes were sturdy and plain, made from rough fabrics and animal hides. Not uniforms, at least not intentionally, but they might as well have been for the lack of variety.
"Where do you come from?" the boy, Dantir, wanted to know.
"Somewhere a long way from here." It occurred to Ronon that he wasn't sure if he meant his home world or his adopted city. At the moment, it didn't much matter. "We don't mean to cause any trouble. We just want to go home."
"Do your people use the Stargate?" Teyla asked. Receiving only blank stares in response, she tried again. "The Ring of the Ancestors?"
"The big metal circle in that direction." Ronon gestured with his gun. "It's wedged between some rocks in what remains of an old building. You must have seen it."
The leader replied cautiously. "We have seen the ruins, but they are of little use to us. How should we use this ring you speak of?"
"For transport. It connects many worlds. Although it still functions, it is missing a key piece…" Even as Teyla attempted to explain, Ronon could tell she wouldn't make much progress. These people obviously had no idea what a Stargate was, much less a dialing device.
"Is that how you arrive to rob from our village?" another hunter demanded. "Does your ship travel through this magical ring?"
"We don't have a ship." Ronon tried to rein in his frustration. "If we did, we wouldn't stand here and argue with you-we'd use it."
When Dantir took another step forward, Ronon was forced to lower his aim. He really didn't want to shoot a curious kid. "All we want is to find a way home," he insisted, more quietly. "If we can't…we still don't need to be your enemy."
Not all the hunters appeared convinced of the visitors' honesty. Dantir, however, continued to watch Ronon with rapt fascination. "You travel to other worlds," he said, awed. "Like the tales of the Ancestors?"
"Yes, indeed. The ring was their creation." Clearly heartened by the comment, Teyla glanced from him to the leader. "You know of the Ancestors, then?"
"Only that they once defended our world but were at last chased away by the Wraith," said the woman, sounding impatient. "They do not help us now. Dantir, step back."
"You taught me that we do not turn people away from our circle without reason, Mother," the boy answered, his eyes never leaving Ronon. "They have not given us reason to doubt them."
Ronon had no idea why the kid was so focused on him. He knew that a big man with a weapon didn't make the most trustworthy picture. Somehow, though, the kid was willing to vouch for him. He'd take what he could get. "And we won't," he vowed, holstering his gun.
The leader acknowledged her son's claim by lowering her bow. Grudgingly, the others did likewise. "Your words carry wisdom, if not respect," she told him with a glare of rebuke. Turning to the visitors, she continued, her features softening slightly. "Dantir is correct. Unfounded suspicion is not noble, and I apologize for mine. My name is Ilar. You may join our hunting circle."
"Thank you." Teyla relaxed a bit, hope still evident in her gaze. "Might there be someone among your people with knowledge of the ring, or of the building that contained it? A village historian, perhaps?"
Ilar hesitated. "There were many storytellers among us, once," she allowed. "Or so I have been told. It is becoming a lost art. I fear we may have little knowledge to offer."
The light in Teyla's eyes dimmed, but her smile did not falter. Ronon chose to pay more attention to the immediate situation. They'd found a native society, one that might at least provide them food for a time. The problem of getting off this planet could be faced later.
"We will hunt for the remainder of this day and the next before returning to our village," said Ear. "You may travel with us if you wish."