"Maybe that's true," she allowed. "Maybe you were meant instead to lead your people to a new understanding, and a lasting peace."
It was a bold remark, the wisdom of which she reconsidered almost immediately. To her relief, he seemed to take no offense. "I would like nothing more than for that to be true."
His chief warrior-Kellec, she'd been told at some point- interrupted to inform them that the columns were prepared to depart. Elizabeth and Lorne were escorted to join the division that would proceed to the gate by way of the western woods.
The hike was no different from its mirror image the night before: just over an hour long and conducted under partial daylight. Elizabeth fended off a chill that had little to do with the temperature and everything to do with her utter ignorance about what they would find ahead of them.
Relief nearly overwhelmed her when the hill appeared beyond the trees and only Falnori warriors could be seen in the vicinity. They'd succeeded in outpacing the Nistra army. For better or worse, the more Falnori troops that arrived, the more difficult it would be for anyone to take the hill from them. For now, at least, they had the gate. Trading a smile with Lorne, she climbed the slope alongside the commander of the incoming warriors and moved decisively toward the DHD.
She didn't identify the sudden rush of wind past her face as the flight of an arrow until the projectile had driven itself into the shoulder of the warrior to her left.
This time she threw herself to the ground even before Lorne could pull her down. The Major grabbed her anyway and hustled her down the south side of the hill, away from the handful of arrows that followed.
"Low-tech version of snipers," Lorne summed up, breathing heavily. "They're not shooting at the other warriors up there standing guard, just us. Guess some of the Nistra stuck around to make sure no one could use the gate.
Elizabeth leaned back against the incline and did her best to keep her fear from gaining any foothold. If they couldn't escape through the gate, all her earlier attempts to stay neutral had been for nothing. They were about to be in the middle of this war whether they liked it or not.
Word spread quickly through the Nistra ranks about the Falnori's pre-dawn strike on the hill. The news served to stoke already high-running emotions. Some of the hunters wanted to charge ahead and retake the hill right away. They were talked down by their comrades, and the entire group picked up its pace.
Ronon didn't bother to guess at his and Teyla's chances of making it to the gate. The hill area was shaping up to be the central battlefield of this conflict. They'd have to do the best they could to stay on the edge of the fighting and wait for Sheppard and McKay to come back in a jumper.
And their teammates would come back. Ronon had never expected such loyalty from his adopted people, had never felt he had the right, but their actions on Sateda not long ago had made their convictions plain.
He and Teyla could, of course, leave the group completely, try to find their way to the second gate, and wait for a pickup. Neither of them had entertained that option for long. For one thing, finding that gate would mean venturing close to the ore-rich mountains, and Ronon had no wish to cloud his mind like that ever again.
Just as important, at least in his view, were the hunters who had taken him in-twice now. Maybe that didn't obligate him to fight alongside them, but it did mean that he couldn't abandon them and still be able to sleep at night.
He walked next to Dantir for the better part of two hours before finally speaking up. "Where'd you get that?" he asked, tipping his head toward the whip on the boy's belt.
As much as Dantir obviously wanted to act the part of a battle-ready soldier, the question drew a glimmer of youthful pride out of him. "These have not been used for many years. They are an honor given only to the hunters, and I am now a hunter."
Ronon had noticed the whips hanging from many of the hunters' belts. He could see rough, uneven threads of adarite running along their falls and recalled the Falnori woman's description of the skill required to craft a goodquality whip. If these people had no one with the gene, it was almost certain that their whips were poor imitations.
Just as the whip-warriors were the select corps of the Falnori army, it seemed the hunters were attempting to fill the elite role for the Nistra. The rest of the crowd mostly carried picks and blunt tools-miners, Ronon assumed, likely to be passable soldiers at best thanks to their work. The hunters would be better, having spent less time in direct contact with adarite.
The Falnori warriors, though, were practiced with whips and unaffected by the adarite. If the hunters went into battle with inferior weapons that they couldn't skillfully use, the result would be very lopsided-and it would only get worse for the Nistra once the adarite began to affect them.
"A real honor," he echoed. "Can I give you some advice? When you use that thing, don't use the power. Just leave it off."
If he'd been looking to dim the boy's admiration, that had probably done it. Dantir stopped for a beat to stare at him. Almost immediately he started walking again, hurt quickly hardening into defensiveness. "I'm old enough to hunt, and I'm old enough to fight."
"No, you're not." The Satedan military had accepted young men, but not this young. Ronon matched his stride without difficulty. "Even so, this has nothing to do with age. The whips are dangerous."
"They're meant to be. They're weapons."
"What Ronon means," said Teyla, joining them, "is that the adarite inside the whip can make people ill. It influences the wielder as well as the victim."
"We've felt it," Ronon asserted. "It's not fun. You start to become unsure about what's happening around you. It's… confusing. In a combat situation it could be deadly."
Shaking his head, Dantir continued on, his steps certain. "If that were true, the whips would not be so esteemed. And the Falnori would not go to such lengths to get adarite for their own."
"The Falnori are different-at least some of them are. It's because of the Ancestors…" Ronon scrubbed a hand over his face as he searched for a better strategy. Telling them that the Falnori possessed an ability they lacked would only offend them. "Look, you're good with your bow. Stick to what you know, and keep your head down."
He could feel Teyla watching him for some time after that. Maybe his frustration was showing too much, or maybe she just understood him too well by now. He wasn't like her, equally good with words and actions. When he glanced over at her, though, her expression was more commiserating than pitying. She didn't have any better ideas to persuade these people, apparently.
If actions were all he had at his disposal, he would act. And if he couldn't stop this senseless conflict, he would at least protect one of its innocents.
The Nistra army approached the hill head-on, rather than sending some of its number through the forests on either side. Ronon wasn't sure it was the wisest plan, but he could see how the types of troops they employed might be better suited to open-field tactics. At the least, it would be easier for the leaders to keep their masses of untrained soldiers together this way.
Speaking of leaders…
He moved closer to Ilar and asked, "Is there a field commander? Someone to tell us what to do?"
"We all understand the goal. Reclaim the hill, and defeat the aggressors." The hunter gazed at the Stargate in the distance, assessing it. "So this is what the ring is meant to be," she mused. "I think I expected something more impressive.
"It's pretty impressive when you step into it and end up on another world." Ronon eased his hand toward his holster. A low buzz of voices hummed all around them: miners and hunters alike preparing themselves for what was to come.