“Fine,” John said. “I’m good.” She probably didn’t believe him. But he didn’t have energy to waste arguing.
It was almost full dark before they reached the trees along the garden wall. John stopped in the shadow of the wall, ostensibly examining the best way up. If everything would stop tilting it would be easier. He fought back a wave of vertigo induced nausea. It’s not real, he told himself. It’s just your body not being able to match what your eyes see. Just hang on and it will stop, trees and wall and sky all tilting together.
Teyla was examining the wall, exploring the stones with her good hand. “I think we can manage here,” she whispered. “It’s lower toward this end and there is better cover.”
The vertigo was subsiding. “I think you’re right,” he said, and took a step toward her.
Teyla spun around, the broken staff she’d taken from the guard in her hand. There was a flash of silver in the trees, the glitter of long, white hair. Teyla caught the Wraith in the throat with the stick, sent him spinning backward among the scattered leaves beneath the trees. Her next movement turned toward him, dropping into guard again as her eyes widened.
She saw what he didn’t, but in the next instant he felt the cold muzzle against the back of his neck.
“Drop it,” the other Wraith said.
Chapter Nineteen
“I am most unhappy,” Radek Zelenka said to no one at all. He stood under a flimsy awning which did little to keep off the pouring rain, while lightning flashed so close that the thunder seemed almost simultaneous. Instinctively he counted as his father had taught him as a child, one thousand one, one thousand two…
Crash. Less than a kilometer away, including vertical distance. “Radek”, his father had said long ago, “you should learn how fast sound travels, how far from the flash you are. It is not for lightning. It is for artillery shells. The muzzle flash warns you. The count tells you how far you are away and whether the shells will reach you. I remember once…” His voice had trailed off, his face closing in a way Radek knew too well, not tight but blank.
“I’ll remember,” Radek had said. “I’ll learn.”
And he had, of course. The first time he had watched the Wraith bombardment flashing against Atlantis’ shields, he had started counting. It gave him the circumference of the shield with comforting accuracy. He wished his father were still alive and that he was not cut off from Earth forever that he might tell him. It is as useful in another galaxy as it was over the Vltava.
The lightning leaped again, illuminating the square in front of the palace on the Holy Island like a strobe light, the thunder a second behind. One thousand one…
On the other side of the square a party was coming around the corner of the buildings, not hurrying as people will do who have been caught out in a storm, but walking slowly and purposefully. Soldiers, he thought. In the intermittent flashes their shields might have been riot gear. Soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his scalp with rain, Radek watched. The square was almost empty. Of course it was. Most people had fled inside. Only he, who had no home or lodgings to hurry away to, huddled under this dripping awning, his back against the wall. But then he had watched like this before, in cold rain.
Escorting prisoners, he thought. Their careful gait, their measured distance from someone in the center of the rank — prisoners.
The next flash of lightning showed what he wanted to see and what he dreaded. Sheppard, head down, his hands bound behind his back, the rain dripping off his sodden hair. He did not look up. Closely guarded indeed — four men tight around him.
And Teyla. Her arms were also bound, but she lifted her head as though he had shouted, as though he had called her name in a voice audible over even the crashing thunder, her eyes unerringly seeking his. They widened, as though she could not believe she saw him and he wanted to jump up and down, to assure her that it was really he. But of course he didn’t. When someone you know is being arrested you must not react. You cannot help them if you are also arrested. Their life may depend on you staying free.
And so Radek did nothing. He stood beneath the awning and watched while the rain dripped down from his soaked pants to his bare feet, wishing for the hundredth time that his shoes had not been lost along with his laptop and radio. Running about the island barefooted on the uneven paving and questionable refuse was not at all comfortable.
Up the steps, Sheppard first. Under the portico. Through the broad doors, the guards still with them.
Radek took off his glasses and squinted into the rain and gathering dark. As wet as they were, they were next to useless. Sheppard and Teyla did not seem injured, and they were prisoners in the palace. They were tightly guarded, but seemed alert. Now he had only to wait for Ronon to get back from his scouting expedition and they should plan what to do.
It would be very nice, of course, to have some dinner. The bit of bread and rough wine they’d been offered on the merchant ship as a courtesy to shipwrecked men had been at midmorning, and it was now after dark. A lovely bit of beef, or even one of the mess hall’s ubiquitous hot dogs would be extremely welcome just now. For that matter, Radek thought he could tuck into an MRE with unfeigned enthusiasm. But. They had no money, and there did not seem to be the sort of public feast that accompanied some festivals. Or perhaps there usually was, and the rain had put an end to it. In any event, food did not seem likely unless Ronon had an idea better than armed robbery.
Well, Radek thought optimistically, perhaps the rain would be their friend in any event. It would be very hard for sentries to keep careful watch, and they might be careless. They might prefer to shelter inside rather than stand guard properly, whether Ronon and Radek tried the palace or the maze. It might after all serve them.
Sticking his hands in his wet pockets, Radek leaned back against the wall. Ronon should be along soon, and they would move on to the next thing.
“This is more like it,” John said, twisting around as the guard held him at spearpoint while another untied Teyla’s hands. He had to duck not to hit his head on the ceiling. The cell was low and dark, with no exterior window and a door of solid, heavy wood.
Teyla grunted, and he knew the roughness of being untied had jerked her injured shoulder painfully. There were four guards, and with the spear point against his chest there were few options at the moment. Teyla seemed to have concluded the same thing, as she backed away from the guard who had untied her instead of stepping forward into a kick. The one with the spear to John’s breastbone backed off, and an instant later slammed the door behind him. The heavy sound of the bar on the outside falling into place was clearly audible.
“John?”
“Yeah.” He reached out a hand, groping blindly. With the door shut and no lamp, in the absence of a window the cell was pitch dark. He felt her hand on his arm and knew she must have reached too. “Are you ok?”
“I am well,” she said. “It only hurt when he jostled it.” He imagined that she shrugged. “We may as well sit down and be comfortable,” Teyla said, carefully drawing him down to sit beside her on the floor.
He flailed out with one hand searching for the wall and was rewarded with barked knuckles. Yes, the wall was close. John turned around, leaning against the wall. “Much more homey,” he said. “Kind of predictable, actually.”
Teyla laughed. “I am glad to see that our current lodging suits you better than the last two!”
“It just seems more honest,” John said.
He heard her shuffle around and her shoulder brushed his as she settled back against the wall beside him. “I would prefer the other lodging,” Teyla said. “Somehow I am not expecting that this will come with a nice dinner and Jitrine to look at your head.”