All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Spoilers for The First Ones, Fire and Water and Need. Think that's it.

Rated PG13 for language, violence

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Mistaken Identity - Another untold tale from the diaries of Dr Daniel Jackson

Extract from the Daniel's Diary

SG-1 is off on a new mission tomorrow, but I have very mixed feelings about it. Part of me is thrilled – the planet we’re visiting is home to a group of people who apparently hold beliefs similar to those of the Celtic peoples of Northern Europe. It will be fascinating to see how far the myths of the Ancient Britons are recognisable in the society. My enthusiasm is blunted, however by the fact that this mission should’ve belong to SG-11. I get seem to shake the morbid idea that we're somehow stepping into dead men's shoes.

Casualties. They were inevitable when you were at war, but that didn't make them sit any easier with Jack. He stared up at the Stargate, his thoughts on the costs the SGC had paid over the years since it had first been opened. Good men and women had given their lives fighting the Goa'uld. Yet more had fallen victim to other dangers, both natural and human. And for everyone who survived there was still a price to pay - often a heavy one.

He sensed movement around him. His team was ready to move out - Daniel at his right shoulder, Carter and Teal'c to his left - the familiar frisson of excitement and wary anticipation swirling around them at the prospect of a new mission muted by the knowledge this mission should've been SG-11's. They’d made first contact with the Caledans and they should've been making this routine return - a mission that would ordinarily have taken place several weeks ago. Sadly, checking up on the Caledans had fallen through a team-sized crack thanks to the disastrous events of SG-11’s last deadly mission. Of course, there was now another SG-11 - currently off-world doing their thing - but of the original team, the one that had made first contact with the Caledans, two were dead. The team commander, Colonel Brun, had retired on medical grounds. The fourth team member, a previously gung-ho Irish sergeant, had resigned his commission and taken a job selling real estate in Florida. Jack couldn't blame him. Watching your team-mates being tortured and killed by Jaffa had a way of ruining your taste for action and adventure.

"Jack? You okay?" Daniel was watching him with concerned eyes as they waited for the seven chevrons on the 'gate to lock into place.

With effort, Jack nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

He patted Daniel's shoulder as the wormhole spat its ferocious blue energy towards them, trying to make the action seem casual. He wanted to tell the archaeologist to be careful, but the words stuck in his throat. It was something he'd stopped doing months ago - in fact ever since Daniel had proven the hours he'd spent in the gym and on the target range had turned him into, well, not a soldier exactly, but someone Jack could rely on to shoot straight or run hard when things got ugly. Besides, sometimes it wasn't about being careful, it was about being lucky. SG-11 had been unlucky - walking into a platoon of Jaffa two weeks into an otherwise peaceful mission.

Daniel was giving him that quizzical look again, and now both Carter and Teal'c were watching. Jack forced himself to sound cheerful, pushing his morbid thoughts into a dark corner.

"Let's go see if the Caledans remember us."

********************

Well. This wasn't exactly the welcome Daniel had expected. He surveyed the faces of the people crowded around SG-1, and surreptitiously wiped the dampness from his hands by rubbing them down the back of his pants. It had been a hard five-mile trudge from the 'gate over rough terrain, and despite the coolness of the air he'd worked up quite a sweat. Apparently the Caledans kept well away from the ‘gate except on feast days. Six months ago, it had been just coincidence that SG-11 had stepped through on the evening before the most important festival in the Caledan year and found the entire village camped out at the foot of the steps.

Daniel had read the report twice, noting the emphasis Colonel Brun had placed on how peaceful the Caledans were and how welcome support from the SGC would be, even though the Goa'uld hadn't visited the planet in years. From what SG-11 had gleaned, the Caledan's traditions bore a similarity to those of the Celtic races of northern Europe, even down to the Beltaine-like festival they had been engaged in. The local people were governed by an overlord named Manan, but the real power was in the hands of his father, a druidic-like advisor named Tiber.

The prospect of seeing a living, breathing Celtic society had driven Daniel to his text books with the kind of enthusiasm that had immediately put the rest of SG-1 on 'feed the archaeologist' alert. Now that he was here, he could barely wait to start asking questions. Only there was one slight problem. Daniel very much wanted to know why three dark-haired Caledans at the back of the group were eyeing him as though he smelled bad. Of course, he probably didn't smell all that great after that walk from the gate but - he risked a quick look at Jack, Sam and Teal'c. No, they definitely weren't getting the kind of looks he was receiving. Oh, great. Maybe he shouldn't have used that citrus shower gel this morning. It would be just his luck to encounter a race of people who considered the aroma of citronella to be a curse or something. Sam had caught him attempting to tease Jack about the prospect of bugs and had thrust it into his hand, giving him a withering look when he objected that he didn't particularly want to smell like a girl. That of course had guaranteed he would use it, even if Jack had snickered loud enough for most of the SGC to hear.

"Daniel?" Jack raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Jack?" Daniel's eyebrows mirrored Jack's, his thoughts still on the hostile vibes he was getting.

"An introduction would be nice, don't you think?"

"Oh." Daniel hadn't realised the unwelcome scrutiny had distracted him quite so badly. He licked his lips nervously and then stepped forward.

"Hello. I'm…"

"We know who you are." A young man with wild, bushy curls haloing his head stepped forward. The hair, combined with the bulk of his muscles, gave Daniel the impression a human haystack was looming over him, although in truth the man probably had no more than a couple of inches in height over the archaeologist.

"You do?" Daniel asked, trying not to sound intimidated.

Daniel sensed, rather than saw, Jack step forward. He could imagine the colonel's hand shifting up the grip of the P-90, an image he found suddenly comforting. The haystack clearly caught the movement. He turned a dark gaze on Jack.

"Come. My father will wish to meet with you."

Daniel could see the information registering with Jack. "Your father? Then you must be Cal'senja." Daniel blinked in surprise that Jack had not only read SG-11's report, he’d remembered the names and managed to pull off a decent pronunciation.

Cal'senja wasn't impressed, though. He rewarded Jack with another dark look. "I am. And you are?"

"O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"You were not here before."

"No, I wasn't."

Daniel frowned. That was odd. The young man had just said he knew who they were and now Jack was doing introductions. Jack waved a hand around his team "Major Samantha Carter. Teal'c and…"

Cal'senja turned away before Jack could introduce Daniel. "Come."

Jack's eyes met with Daniel's. He raised his eyebrows, clearly thinking their host was being a little rude. Daniel grimaced in response. Something wasn't right. He could feel it, whatever it was, niggling away at the back of his neck.

Jack had already fallen in step behind Cal'senja, and Daniel followed suit, painfully aware of dark eyes on him as he did so. The burly young man led them through the village to one of three slightly larger buildings, and then ushered them through the doorway.

"Father - the Tau'ri have returned through the Great Circle."

A tall man dressed in animal skins whirled round at their entrance. His eyes swept rapidly over Jack and Daniel, reflected a hint of respect at the sight of Teal'c, and rested lasciviously on Sam. A calculating smile twisted his lips upwards. "Welcome."

"Thank you," Jack replied, pointedly stepping in front of Sam. "I take it you're Manan?"

The warrior inclined his head. "Manan of the Wetlands."

"O'Neill of the Windy City," Jack replied.

As Daniel's eyes began to adjust to the gloom, he found himself being studied by a wrinkled old man who was sitting on a bed piled high with blankets. This had to be Tiber. Their eyes met and the druid nodded in acknowledgement of his presence. "So you have come back at last."

"Ummm - yes." Daniel stepped forward. "I'm Daniel. This is Jack…"

Tiber interruption was a hostile hiss. "It would seem the word of the Tau'ri is worth little."

Jack's head swung round. "Excuse me?"

The old man slowly extricated himself from the bed, accepting Manan's assistance. "You promised to return within four turns of the moon."

"Ah - well see, about that…"

The old man moved to stand in front of Daniel, cutting off Jack's explanation as he scrutinised the archaeologist carefully. "The time of betru' te is past. You are ill-advised to return now."

"Betru'te?" Daniel asked.

"Is past," the man repeated unhelpfully. "Now there is merely what was and what is to come, instead of what might have been." He turned towards Jack. "Come. We will eat and then we will talk of the treaty between the Tau'ri and the Caledan. That is why you are here, is it not?"

Jack pulled in an audible breath, rocking lightly on the balls of his feet. "Yes. That's why we're here."

As the old man turned towards the door, flanked by Manan on his right and Cal'senja to his left, Manan inclined his head towards SG-1. "Please follow us to meeting hall. The evening meal has already been prepared, and there is food enough for all."

Daniel fell in step with Jack as they did as they were asked, his voice a low, urgent whisper. "Jack, I got the distinct impression he thinks I've been here before."

"He's an old man, Daniel. Old people get confused."

"And what about Cal'senja?" Daniel glanced nervously at the young man's back.

Jack shrugged. "Getting a little jittery, Daniel?"

"Yes actually. Cal'senja said he knew who I was."

"Well, we both know that's impossible. Come on, Daniel, he clearly didn't mean you personally. He just recognised the uniform."

"But…"

"Daniel, relax. You read Brun's report. These people are friendly. They want a treaty with us. Just follow Teal'c's lead and make nice with people."

Daniel's gaze drifted to Teal'c, whose was wearing his characteristic stony expression. "Right."

******************

Despite Jack's obvious dislike of their host's insistence they leave their weapons out of reach on a high platform at the back of the hall, Daniel's unease had slowly drifted away. The meal had turned out to be a delicious stew reminiscent of a dish Sha're used to prepare on special occasions - all fragrant spices and rich juices. It had been served with freshly-baked flat bread, and washed down with a strong wine the colour and sweetness of over-ripe plums. He knew it was probably the wine making him lower his guard. A combination of thirst from the long march and Manan's daughters constantly refilling his glass meant he'd probably drunk more than he should have. His request for water had been met with polite amusement; clearly the men of this village did not consider it a suitable beverage to accompany dinner.

Across the table he could see Jack was having similar problems fending off the wine bearers, while Sam seemed to be having more trouble fending off Manan than the alcohol. Thank goodness for Teal'c. The Jaffa's refusal of alcohol had been accepted with grace, no doubt because of his inherent alienism.

Daniel tried to stifle a yawn. An over-heated room, too much wine, and a long march were taking their toll. Another bodily urge was also making itself aware to him; he really needed to pee. Climbing to his feet he politely excused himself, indicating the door and that he would be right back. The cold night air came as a shock as he stepped outside, and he immediately regretted leaving his jacket behind. His short-sleeved t-shirt offered little protection against the wind, and he wrapped his arms around his chest for warmth, grimacing at the chilling raindrops splashing against his skin. As he peered through the unwelcome weather, it occurred to Daniel he had no idea what sanitary arrangements the Caledan's employed. Did each dwelling have a latrine or was there one for the entire village somewhere?

He hesitated for a moment and then decided the bushes a few yards behind the nearest house would have to do. It was too cold and wet to be stumbling around on his own looking for a washroom. However, he’d barely covered half the distance when a figure suddenly loomed in front of him. Daniel looked up and found himself staring into the face of one of the men who had scrutinised him so severely on his arrival. His stomach muscles tightened with instinctive anxiety as he forced himself to smile politely.

"Hi. I was just - "

A back-handed slap whipped across his cheek, snapping his head painfully to the left and driving him backwards. A pair of gorilla-like arms folded around his chest from behind, pinning his own arms to his side. Hot breath accompanied the words threatening something distinctly unpleasant in his right ear. Unable to break the hold, Daniel did what Jack had trained him to do. He slammed his head backwards, heard the sickening sound of breaking cartilage, and then hollered Jack's name.

***********************

Jack's head jerked up. His eyes swept the table, registering Daniel's absence and the fact Teal'c was already on his feet, his face thunderous. The distinctive sound of a fist making contact with bare skin, followed by a muffled cry, reached Jack's ears through the open window behind him. Damn it! Jack knew instinctively Daniel was the one in trouble. He was on his feet and moving towards his P-90 only to realise the platform was now empty. "Where the hell's my weapon?"

He rounded on Manan who merely bowed his head. "Your weapons are safe. They will be returned to you in the morning."

Teal'c was already through the door and Carter had climbed to her feet, concern written across her face. Jack chased after Teal'c as another cry of pain sounded. Yep, definitely Daniel. His stomach muscles tightened in reaction. He'd had the misfortune to hear Daniel vocalise pain often enough to recognise that tone and the sharp intake of breath.

"O'Neill!" Teal'c called his name, just as a large dark-haired man came stumbling past, clearly having been on the receiving end of a Jaffa-swung punch. With Carter on his heels, Jack rounded the corner of the house just in time to see Teal'c knock a second man to the ground. A third immediately raised his hands, backing away from - oh shit! Daniel was on the ground, his arms wrapped protectively over his head, knees drawn up to his chest to protect vital parts of his anatomy.

Jack vaulted over Daniel's body and laid into the third attacker. The man crumpled beneath a barrage of blows, but the sound of fighting had drawn others and Jack was driven to the ground by two large male bodies catapulting into him at speed. A foot caught him in the midriff, driving his breath from him. Strong hands folded around his biceps, and then much to his fury he was yanked to his feet, his right arm twisted painfully up his back.

Crap! Teal'c was surrounded by men wielding pitchforks, and Carter was on the wrong end of a wicked looking scythe. To his right, Daniel hissed in pain as he too was pulled unceremoniously to his feet, his arms yanked viciously behind his back as one of the men started to bind his wrists with far more force than was necessary.

"Hey!" The protest was out of Jack's mouth before he could stop it, and earned him a sharp twist on his arm. Mentally cursing his stupidity at being separated from his P-90, Jack met the gaze of the nearest villager. "Somebody want to tell me what's going on?"

His demand was met by movement in the gathered crowd, and then Tiber stepped forward, once again flanked by Manan and Cal'senja. All three of them were looking at the man tying Daniel, but it was Manan who spoke first. "Cra'th, what is the meaning of this? I gave you permission to begin Har'suk, not to start a brawl."

The man responded by tightening a final knot in the rope around Daniel's wrists, eliciting a grimace from the archaeologist. "He resisted us."

Manan's expression suggested he found that an unlikely explanation, but he turned away and gestured towards the others. "Lower your weapons. We have no quarrel with these."

Jack sucked in a hiss of pain as his arm was suddenly released from the vice-like grip pinning it up his back. His gaze held Manan's. "You have no quarrel with Daniel either."

It was Tiber who responded to that. "You are wrong, Colonel." He beckoned to a young woman, who reluctantly stepped forward. Even wearing the loose nightwear that covered her from neck to ankles, it was clear she was several months pregnant. Jack raised an eyebrow in question.

From behind Daniel, Cra'th spat angry words. "Tell them, Kyrin. Tell them how this Shin'tak has shamed you." He shoved Daniel hard in the back, driving him to his knees.

Jack instinctively stepped forward to protest the rough treatment, but a worried look from Carter made him halt. He could guess what she was thinking. An all-out brawl was going to result in people getting hurt, with the most likely victim being Daniel. His gaze swung back to Kyrin whose eyes were wide with fear as she looked at Cra'th, then Daniel, and finally Tiber. As the old man nodded his consent, she raised a shaky hand and pointed towards Daniel. "It is true. He is the one who dishonoured me and brought shame upon my brothers."

"W… www... what?" Daniel's jaw dropped open in protest. His gaze swung towards Jack.

"Don't deny it," Cra'th snarled, moving to stand in front of him. "The last time you came through the Great Ring, you promised to return before the time for betru' te was passed."

"Be-tru'te?" Daniel repeated the word slowly. "Be truth?" His eyes widened. "Betrothal?"

The man shot Daniel a murderous look and gestured at Kyrin. "You promised to take her as your wife."

Jack attempted to regain charge of the situation. "Listen, there's some mistake. Daniel has never been here before, and he sure as hell isn't responsible for that." He in turn waved an arm at the swollen belly of the woman.

Cra'th swivelled his attention to Jack, favouring the colonel with an equally murderous look, before finally turning to Tiber. "He is lying. I have the right of Har'suk."

For a moment Jack thought he saw some dark emotion, almost a hunger, flicker in the old man's eyes, but as Tiber looked towards Daniel his expression was shuttered. Tiber nodded slowly. "Har'suk is your right."

In response Cra'th made a move towards Daniel, his intention clearly not friendly. Jack, who had been slowly edging forward throughout the whole confrontation, immediately lurched forward to place himself between Cra'th and Daniel. He held his hands up, fingers splayed in a non-aggressive gesture to diffuse the tension. "Whoa! Hold up. You want to tell us what this hard soak is, because if it involves slapping Daniel around some more you can forget it."

Cra'th met his gaze coolly. "Har'suk is the right to take the life of the one who has stolen honour." He tossed his head towards Daniel, who was still kneeling in the dirt. "The manner of his death is for me to decide."

Jack bit down on the urge to plant his fist in the man's face. "You aren't about to decide anything concerning my team." He addressed Tiber. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? Until today, Daniel had never been to this planet. You're going to have to look some other place for a scapegoat."

Tiber studied Jack thoughtfully. "I understand your wish to defend one under your command. But it is your word against that of Kyrin's…"

Daniel's voice - his tone one of tight control - cut through the discussion. "Do you think *I* might say something?"

All eyes swivelled towards him as he climbed awkwardly to his feet. He chewed at his bottom lip for a moment before speaking. "Obviously someone is responsible for - " He hesitated a moment, grimacing slightly, his eloquence clearly hampered by his inability to communicate with his hands. "Ummm, you know - the baby and everything."

"Daniel," Jack interrupted, not without sympathy. "If you have a point?"

"Yes, I do. Have a point, that is. SG-11 was here before, right? Is it not possible that one of them…"

"There you go," Jack rounded on Tiber triumphantly, seeing where Daniel was going. "You've got yourself a simple case of mistaken identity."

"N…n…no." Kyrin's voice quavered but then grew strong. "I am not mistaken. He is the one."

Agreement immediately rippled through the crowd. Jack shook his head in exasperation and turned towards her, only to spin back as Daniel yelped his name. Oh shit! Cra'th and his goons had Daniel firmly in their grasp once again and were dragging him towards the thick wooden post outside Tiber's house. He pushed forward but was immediately held back by several pairs of strong hands. A frustrated growl from Teal'c met his ears.

"Tiber!" he yelled. "You can stop this."

The old man shook his head. "I cannot."

Jack watched in horror as more rope appeared. "No!" he protested as Cra'th looped a coil around Daniel's neck. Oh God. Were they going to hang Daniel? His gaze swept over the post as he tried to reassure himself such an act wasn't possible given its shape and size. It looked more like a whipping post, a thought that provided absolutely no comfort. However, as Cra'th tightened the rope around Daniel's neck and moved to secure the other end to the post, it became clear neither hanging or whipping were on the evening's entertainment. The post was simply there to provide a convenient tethering point, no doubt similar in intent to the stocks of medieval times. Seconds later though Jack realised an alternative danger as a gust of icy wind drove rain into his face. "You can't leave him there all night! He'll die of exposure."

Manan addressed Tiber in a low tone. "He is right, Father. Such treatment is not part of the Har'suk." As Tiber nodded, Manan stepped forward. "Cra'th! Wait."

Crath spun round, his face venomous. "What?!"

"Would you have him die of the cold tonight?" Manan asked.

An expression flickered across Crath's face that said 'yes, that would fit in with his plan quite nicely', but then a much crueller edge sharpened his features. "No. The Spring solstice is but a few days from now. Morrigan can feast upon his blood at the festival."

Manan inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Than have your men put him in the barn, otherwise he will not survive to the solstice."

Cra'th considered the suggestion for a moment, his eyes boring angrily into Daniel. Finally he gave a curt nod and tossed the tail-end of the rope to the nearest man. "Do as Manan suggests. Tether him with the cattle."

Jack renewed his effort to break free of the hands holding him as a sharp tug on the rope almost jerked Daniel off his feet. Daniel's attempt to look back earned him a cuff around the head, no doubt adding to the bruises he'd already gained, and his shoulders slumped in defeat as he was led towards a low-roofed building that presumably acted as some kind of animal shelter.

Manan stepped in front of Jack and gestured once again for his release. He nodded towards Daniel as he was pushed through a doorway and out of sight. "I will see that no harm comes to him tonight." He clicked his fingers at Cal'senja and barked something in a dialect Jack didn't understand. In response, his son headed after Daniel's captors.

"He's spending the night tied up in a freezing cold barn." Jack ground the words out angrily. "You'll excuse me if I don't find your reassurance exactly comforting." He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. "So what is this Hard Soak thing anyway?"

"Come. I will explain while we finish our meal."

Jack hesitated as Manan moved towards the main building. The crowd was dispersing now and Carter and Teal'c quickly moved to his side.

"Sir?" Carter encapsulated at least ten questions into the single word.

"Manan says no harm will come to Daniel tonight."

Carter's gaze drifted to the doorway of the barn. "You mean other than sleeping in cold, damp clothes, sir? He doesn’t even have his jacket."

Jack grimaced. "I don't like it either, Major, but right now, particularly given the fact we don't have any weapons, I think we should try to explore the diplomatic route. Then in the morning if they refuse to let Daniel go…" He gave Carter and Teal'c a meaningful look.

"Yes, Sir."

"I agree, O'Neill."

"Right." Jack's gaze returned to the retreating figure of Manan. "Can't say I have much of an appetite left, but let's go play nice with the natives. For Daniel's sake."

*********************

Inside the main hall, the Caledans were chattering nosily as they resumed their seats. Jack, Carter and Teal'c were ushered back inside and returned to their places, aware of the scrutiny they were under. Curiosity. Hostility. Amusement. The whole gamut of emotional responses was represented in the room.

Jack glanced around, trying to decide what his next move should be. At the head table, Tiber was in an animated discussion with two men of similar age. Jack felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched them. He couldn't be sure, but he sensed they were delighted by the events of the evening, and that the prospect of the Har'suk was welcome.

Manan was sitting at a smaller table to the right, his gaze concentrated on the contents of his glass. Jack considered the man for a moment, recalling how attentive he had been to Carter before things turned ugly, and the way he had protected Daniel from a night in the open. His mind made up, he picked up his wine in one hand and Daniel’s jacket in the other, headed round the room, and slipped into a seat next to the warrior. He laid the jacket across the table. "So, Manan, any chance of getting this to Daniel?”

Manan picked up his glass, drained its contents, and then gestured to a serving woman. As she refilled his glass, he muttered something unintelligible to Jack. The woman's placid expression didn't show any response to his words, but she scooped Daniel's jacket over her arm as she moved away.

“Thank you,” Jack said, hoping the jacket was actually heading towards Daniel, and that the woman hadn't just been given the best tip of the evening. “So, about this Har’suk thing?” He paused, but Manan appeared to be reluctant to do anything other than drink. "Look, we didn't come here looking for a fight. And Daniel certainly didn't come here expecting to get slapped with a paternity suite, so how about we all take a deep breath and figure out a solution to this that keeps everyone happy?"

"What is there to 'figure out'?" Manan asked. "I have seen with my own eyes that this one you now call Daniel is who Kyrin claims him to be."

"Well, where we come from, when someone is accused of doing something wrong, such as getting a young girl pregnant, they have a right to speak for themselves. Now in Daniel's case, he'd be able to explain that he wasn't responsible because he's never been on your planet before." Jack took a deep breath and congratulated himself on being remarkably restrained, given that he was resisting the urge to hunt out his P-90.

Manan frowned. "You think Kyrin does not know the father of her child?"

"I think Kyrin may be a little confused," Jack replied carefully.

"Am I confused? Is my father?" Manan's eyes narrowed. "He is the one. I recognised him myself."

“See there’s the problem. How can you have recognised Daniel when he’s never been here before?”

“I have eyes, O’Neill. You call him by a different name, but I can see who he is.”

Jack reluctantly let that go, realising pushing the issue with Manan, given the man’s alcohol-tempered mood, wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He decided to try a different tack. "So, tell me about this Har'suk thing."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Well, that guy Cra'th said something about getting to decide what happens to Daniel. Is there some kind of time frame to all this?"

"Yes. Tomorrow Cra'th will publicly announce his claim to Har'suk before the council of elders. On the second day they will announce their decision to allow his claim and on the third…"

"Whoa. Just back up a minute. The council of elders get to say whether or not Cra'th can do what he wants with Daniel?"

"Yes."

"So all we have to do is convince them that Daniel isn't the guilty party."

Manan frowned. "The council has never denied a right to Har'suk. That they will have a human sacrifice for the Spring solstice…” His voice trailed off, but then he added as though convincing himself. “The evidence of guilt is before all of us. One only has to look at his face…"

There it was again. This assurance that Daniel was guilty because of the way he looked. Jack’s mind was already formulating a plan of action. "Who presides over the council? No, let me guess, your father does."

Manan nodded and Jack pushed himself to his feet, intending to speak with Tiber. Manan's hand on his arm stopped him.

"O'Neill, did you mean what you said about finding a solution that would keep everyone happy?"

Jack slid back into his seat, studying the warrior cautiously before slowly saying, "Yes."

Manan's eyes flickered towards Carter. "Then perhaps we can help one another. I could speak favourably to my father…" His attention returned to Jack, his expression questioning.

Oh boy! Carter was not going to thank him for this. Jack nodded. "I'm sure I could find some good things to say about you to the major."

The warrior swallowed another mouthful of wine. "What would you wish me to ask of Tiber?"

Jack didn't even hesitate. "We want time. Time to prove Daniel is innocent."

*******************

Voices outside the barn door caught Daniel's attention, giving him a welcome distraction from his discomfort. After being manhandled into the barn, his captors had thrown him against the wall of the nearest stall and tied the rope round his neck to a large metal ring fixed securely into the wall. Judging from the smell of the soiled straw on the floor, Daniel gathered the stall was normally home to a horse. The aroma was the least of his problems, though. He was sitting with his back to the wall, but with his hands still tied behind him it was just about impossible to find a comfortable position. No matter what he did, one set of muscles or another would start protesting after a few minutes. He’d also realised the tether around his neck was too short to allow him to lie down without choking himself, so he was stuck with sitting or standing. Not that he was likely to sleep anyway. He was already shivering with the cold, his rain-soaked pants and t-shirt providing little in the way of warmth. He was definitely in for a long, miserable night. And, damn it all, he was totally innocent of what he'd been accused of doing.

He pushed that thought aside as he strained to hear the conversation taking place outside the door. A soft feminine voice was clearly appealing to his guards. He couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded a lot like Sam. In which case, was it too much to hope that she'd come to get him released? He closed his eyes and sent a whispered prayer into the void, a childhood habit that crept out of the closet every now and again, despite his discovery that the vast majority of Earth's mythological gods were little more than alien parasites. Please, please let this be freedom on its way. His back ached, the rope around his neck had already chafed his skin, his hands were numb, and he was probably going to be hypothermic by daybreak. Oh yeah, and he really, really needed to pee. So, God, if you're up there anywhere…

A warm perfume, sweet and floral, cut through the sour stench of horse piss. Daniel opened his eyes, Sam's name forming on his lips. And found himself looking up at Kyrin. As their eyes met, she looked away, a spot on the floor just in front of his feet proving fascinating as her face flamed hot. Daniel stared at her for a moment, his disappointment causing angry words to race towards his tongue, but there was something fragile about her that made him bite them back before they hit the air. Perhaps it was the way her swollen belly reminded him of Sha're, hurt and distressed with Apophis' child within her, or perhaps it was the dark curls that framed her face. He sighed, his anger cooling as fast as it had flared. When he spoke, the only emotion that escaped him was weariness. "What do you want?"

Her voice was soft, the tone apologetic, almost fearful. “I brought your outer garment.” She put his jacket on the ground beside him, and then held out the bowl she was carrying. "And I brought Ty root. I thought, perhaps… it will help with the bruising." She brushed her fingers against her own cheek, the action one of empathy for the fresh bruises Daniel knew he sported.

His bound hands making movement difficult, Daniel pushed himself more upright, his eyebrows dancing as he considered her words. "Ty root?"

Kyrin nodded and crouched before him, holding the bowl so he could see the paste it contained. "It will numb the pain."

"How thoughtful." The snipe was out of his mouth before he could stop, part of him still all too aware that she was responsible for his current position.

"Please," Kyrin's tone was pleading. "Let me help you."

"You want to help me?" Daniel struggled to keep his anger under control. "How about telling your people the truth?"

She ducked her head, her words little more than a whisper. "I cannot."

"Why?" Daniel demanded. "We both know I'm not the father of your baby. Why can't you tell them?"

Her eyes darted away from him and she shook her head. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Daniel replied, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "So why don't you explain it to me. Apparently I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

Hurt flickered over her face and she looked away, while he battled with feeling guilty for his snarkiness and the thought that she deserved that and more. "I'm sorry," he said, partly with genuine contriteness and partly because he knew he wasn't doing his own cause any good by alienating her further.

"You have a right to be angry," she replied, meeting his gaze again. "And you have a right to know."

"Kyrin!" Her name was barked from the door.

Daniel jerked his head round, wincing as the rope chafed his already raw skin. Cal'senja was standing in the doorway, scowling at them. The tall warrior stepped towards them.

"Do you want Cra'th to find you here? Hurry up, woman!"

Kyrin inclined her head and hurriedly set her bowl on the floor. As Cal'senja watched, she tugged at Daniel’s t-shirt, rolling the hem upwards, her eyes widening at the sight of the bruises marring his rib cage. She met his gaze, apology in her eyes.

"This will help," she whispered, dipping her fingers into the paste in the bowl.

Daniel sucked in a breath as she smeared cold, damp pulp onto his skin. Almost immediately, though, a warm numbness began to spread across his chest and down into his abdomen.

"Better?" she enquired shyly.

He nodded, wanting to ask what she'd been about to tell him, but aware both of Cal'senja's presence and that the paste was doing more than simply driving away the pain. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and an irrisistable drowsiness was stealing over him. His head bowed towards his chest, the rope pulling taut against his windpipe. No! He jerked his head back up. Was this her intention? To drug him so he strangled himself?

"Kyrin?" He forced her name through lips that no longer seemed to be under his control.

"What is wrong?" she asked.

"Can't…" Daniel desperately tried to fight the lethargy that was creeping over him, stealing his control over his limbs. His head was too heavy to hold upright, and his chin met his chest again. The noose around his neck pulled tighter still. "Can't… move. Can't breathe."

Kyrin's eyes widened in horror, and she cupped his face in her hands, desperately trying to tilt his head back against the wall. "No! The Ty Root is not meant to do this!"

It was impossible to stay upright, despite the fact the rope was choking him. His whole body was numb, and gravity was dancing gleefully on his shoulders, pressing him ever nearer to the soiled floor. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, water to horse piss. Part of his mind was taking note of the fact he was being strangled, but the other part, the much larger part, was determined to shut down. He just needed to close his eyes and sleep, because then the burning round his neck and in his lungs would stop torturing him.

"Cal!" Kyrin's cry was shrill as she turned towards the warrior and gabbled something Daniel was no longer capable of translating. Large hands slid beneath his arms, pulling him upright. He saw the flash of a knife blade and then, to his relief, the tautness on the rope suddenly vanished. Cold air filled his lungs, making him cough, then as the hands released him, he slid inelegantly sideways before flopping forward onto his stomach. He rested his head on the straw, grateful that it provided a pillow of sorts, no longer caring that it stank. He could hear Kyrin apologising over and over, but her voice was growing distant. With a soft moan, he succumbed to unconsciousness.

************************

Part 2

*************

"I don't understand it, sir." Carter returned to the table SG-1 was occupying. She slid into a seat opposite Jack, her face despondent. "They all seem convinced Daniel has been here before."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Is it possible our cloned versions visited this planet?"

Jack shook his head. "I'm sure robot Daniel has many talents, but despite being anatomically correct, getting a girl pregnant is something only our Daniel is capable of."

Carter tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Well, we don't actually know that, sir."

"We don't know what?"

"Whether our Daniel is actually capable of fathering a child. After all, he was on Abydos for a year and Sha're didn't get…" She stopped and pushed her half-full wine glass away, her cheeks colouring. "That's probably not important right now."

“No, Major, it isn’t.” Jack couldn't quite believe she'd raised the subject of Daniel’s fertility in the first place. Boy! Was that the kind of thing the SGC women gossiped about? "So, returning to the issue in hand," he said, immediately wishing he hadn't chosen that particular phrase. "What can we do to convince these people Daniel isn't who they think he is?"

Before either Teal’c or Carter could reply, Tiber's voice called Jack's name across the hubbub of conversation. Jack glanced up and saw the elder beckoning him towards the top table. Shooting his team-mates an optimistic look, he climbed to his feet and went to join him, accepting yet another glass of wine as he took a seat. Tiber raised his glass towards him, then drank deeply. He set the glass down, gave a generous belch, and then fixed Jack with a beady eye. "My son has requested that I listen to your petition. What would you ask of me, O'Neill?"

The direct question almost caught Jack off guard, but he quickly marshalled his thoughts. "Well, at this Har'Suk thing, I'd like an opportunity to explain why it is impossible for Daniel to be the father that baby."

"I see." Tiber continued to study him intently. "Do you not think it strange, O'Neill, that many in the village recognise him, yet you and your team deny his identity?"

"Yes, I think that's strange," Jack replied cautiously.

"And would not a simple explanation be that you are lying about who he is to protect him from facing judgement?"

"As simple an explanation as Kyrin and her brothers looking for a convenient scapegoat."

"Scapegoat?" Tiber asked. "You used this word earlier. I am not familiar with it."

"It means someone who is blamed for something he hasn't done."

"Indeed," Tiber replied. "However, all have seen him and all know that he is the one responsible."

Jack blew out an exasperated breath. "Okay. I can't explain why you all seem to think Daniel has been here before. But at least give us a chance to prove he hasn't, because believe me, you have the wrong man tied up in the barn."

"Then what exactly do you want, O'Neill?"

"Let me send Major Carter back through the Stargate to see if she can find a reason for the confusion over Daniel’s identity."

Tiber considered for a long moment. "Very well. You may send her. But I do not understand what you hope to achieve."

"What I hope to achieve is some way of convincing you Daniel isn’t the man you want," Jack said. He stood and inclined his head. "Thank you."

" Your gratitude is not required.” Tiber picked up his wine glass and eyed Jack coolly. “Morrigan has clearly blessed us with a suitable sacrifice for the spring solstice. The Har'Suk will continue, O'Neill, and the one you now call Daniel Jackson will be put to death. "

*******************

The three free members of SG-1 were awake before dawn the following day. Jack had slept badly, his dreams punctuated with nightmare images of Daniel dying. The archaeologist had unfortunately given his imagination plenty of fodder - throwing himself in front of a staff weapon on the very first mission to Abydos, being crushed to death beneath a rock fall in an alien mine, apparently vapourised by a volcanic vent on Nem's world. Jack shivered. Daniel had been dead far too many times already. This mission was not going to add to his gallery of one hundred and one different ways to take the life of an archaeologist.

He scrubbed a hand across his face in an effort to make himself more alert, and then turned his attention to Carter, who was standing at the door ready to leave.

"Change of plan," he said abruptly, causing her to swing round to face him.

"Sir?"

"I want Teal'c to go to the 'Gate with you." Jack winced as a tremor of premonition danced along his shoulders. "If one Kyrin's brothers gets wind of what you're up to, they just might try to stop you. Let's not take any risks, okay?"

Protest flittered across Carter's face, presumably because she didn't feel she needed a chaperone, but she bit down on the emotion and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Jack turned towards Teal'c. "Stay at the 'Gate until Carter returns, then make sure you both get back here safely."

Teal'c nodded, then frowned. "I do not like travelling without my staff weapon."

"I know," Jack said. "But somehow I don't think the Caledans are going to hand us back our weapons while they've still got Daniel tied up in that barn. They know only too well we'd blast our way straight in there and get him out."

"I concur," Teal'c said.

Carter nodded. “We can bring more weapons back, sir. Or even reinforcements…”

“I suspect any weapons you bring back will be confiscated the moment you step through the ‘Gate. As for reinforcements,” Jack considered for a moment. “Explain the situation to Hammond. I’m still hoping we can find a diplomatic solution to this, but if we can’t, then tell him a back-up plan would be appreciated.”

“Yes, sir.” She pushed the door open then looked back. “Tell Daniel we won’t let him down.”

Jack had no reply to that. He simply nodded, then moved to the doorway and watched them set off in the direction of the Stargate. He glanced at his watch, estimating how long it would take them to cover the five miles of rough terrain. It had to be at least a two-hour walk.

He was just about to go back into the hut that had been assigned to SG-1 when he saw signs of movement in the main hall. Moments later Manan appeared with Cal'senja at his side. He strode up to Jack with an air of urgency.

"You must come immediately. The Har'suk will begin as soon as the sun rises and Cal'senja cannot rouse your friend."

"What?" Jack felt his stomach lurch. "You said Daniel would be fine!"

"I watched over him all night," Cal'senja protested. "He slept peacefully, but this morning I can't wake him."

"Crap." Jack muttered a few additional swearwords under his breath as he headed towards the barn. With Manan and Cal’senja in his wake, Kyrin’s brothers did not attempt to block his path, and he burst unimpeded through the guarded doorway, frowning at the dark interior and grimacing at the stench. "Where is he?"

"Here." Cal'senja stepped past Jack to indicate the stall.

Quickly Jack pushed by him, sucking in an angry breath as he saw Daniel lying face down on the soiled straw, his jacket thrown over his shoulders, and his hands still bound behind his back. He dropped quickly to his knees, checking for breath signs and a pulse. To all intents and purposes, it appeared Daniel was simply slumbering like a baby on a feather mattress. Cautiously Jack ran his hands over Daniel's body feeling for any obvious injuries such as broken bones. Everything seemed fine, so he risked rolling Daniel onto his side. That at least elicited a mumbled protest, but still Daniel didn't wake.

"C'mon, Danny. Rise and shine." Jack gently patted Daniel's right cheek.

Nothing.

He tried again, a little harder on the cheek and louder with the voice. Still nothing.

Manan edged closer. "O'Neill! Time is passing."

Jack shot Manan a dark look. "I don't suppose you have an alarm clock?" He vainly patted the archaeologist's face once more. “Daniel!” Dark thoughts about internal injuries and shock sneaked into his mind. Daniel could be a heavy sleeper at the best of times, but this morning he was way beyond that; he seemed to be totally dead to the world. What the hell was going on? Jack glanced up at Cal’senja, who was watching his attempts to rouse Daniel with a detached air.

"He's been like this all night?" Jack demanded.

The young man nodded. "Tiber's wine can be too strong for those not familiar with it."

"Right," Jack muttered under his breath. "Blame it on a hangover and not the fact he had the crap beaten out of him last night."

"You must wake him now," Manan said, his tone urgent. "The Har'suk requires his presence when the sun is fully risen."

"Yeah, yeah, so you keep telling me." Jack started over with his physical examination of Daniel. Airway fine. Heart rate slow but steady. He pushed Daniel’s t-shirt up, his eyes narrowing at the bruising on Daniel’s torso as he carefully checked for broken ribs and evidence of internal injury. A smear of dark green pulp on Daniel’s chest made him briefly wonder what Daniel had been rolling around in the previous evening, and how whatever it was had gotten under his shirt. More importantly, though, there didn’t seem to be any evidence that Daniel was injured beyond the darkening bruises.

Jack blew out an exasperated breath, partially relieved at not finding anything obviously wrong, but still concerned at Daniel's unresponsiveness. Perhaps Cal'senja was right about the wine. After all Daniel's tolerance for alcohol was often impaired by the allergy shots Fraiser gave him, and Jack knew she'd been trying something new on him recently.

"Hurry, O'Neill!" Manan urged him again. "It will do him no favour to keep the council waiting."

Uncertain what to do next, Jack's gaze fell on a bucket of water standing near the animals' drinking trough. He grimaced to himself as the obvious course of action formed in his mind. No, he couldn't do that, could he? He wrinkled his nose at the stench in the stall, and couldn't help but observe Daniel smelled none to sweet himself. Of course with his hands tied behind his back, there were certain personal functions Daniel couldn't be expected to perform, and sometimes needs must.

Okay, that settled it. He'd be doing Daniel a favour, and he really couldn't think of any other course of action. His mind made up, Jack didn't hesitate any longer. Under Manan's watchful eye, he flicked Daniel’s jacket to one side with his foot, then picked up the bucket and emptied its contents over him. There was a long moment of silence, then the air filled with some extremely colourful Abydonian expletives.

"Good morning, Daniel," Jack said, hiding his relief under a heavy layer of fake casualness. The swearing stopped and an extremely pissed off Daniel pushed himself awkwardly into a sitting position. "Sleep well?"

Daniel blinked up at him with an expression that suggested Jack was a dead man walking before replying slowly, "Yeah, just great. Remind me to add this place to my holiday guide.” He licked his lips, his gaze sliding to Manan, then back to Jack. "Something tells me you haven't come to let me go."

"Errr… no. Your presence is required at the Hard Soak, although I guess we've kind of already done the soaking part," Jack tapped at the empty bucket with his toe, and shot Daniel an apologetic look.

"S…s..sam and Teal'c?" Daniel's teeth began to chatter thanks to the cold air and his damp t-shirt.

"Carter's gone back to the SGC to see what she can find out about SG-11's mission. Teal'c is playing chaperone between here and the ‘Gate." Jack leaned forward and helped Daniel to his feet, addressing Manan as he did so. "Is it really necessary to keep him trussed up like this?" He scooped up the discarded jacket, and wrapped it round Daniel's shoulders as best he could, feeling guilty at being responsible for adding to Daniel’s trials.

"You will have to appeal to Cra'th regarding the manner in which he is held during Har'suk," Manan replied. "Now come quickly."

"What's going on, Jack?" Daniel asked as he followed Manan towards the door.

"Apparently Cra'th gets to announce your crime to everyone this morning. The good news is that Tiber agreed to Carter's little expedition. She's going to find some way to prove your innocence."

"You know I’ve been thinking of suggesting to Hammond that we limit ‘Gate travel to worlds that have heard of innocent until proven guilty,” Daniel complained. “Remind me to send him a memo.”

Jack grimaced. "We're going to get you out of here, Daniel. Right now, though, I'm just trying to figure out how to do it without killing a whole lot of other innocent people, okay?"

Daniel swallowed and nodded. "Not killing people would be good. Not being killed is pretty good too." He blinked as he stepped into bright sunlight. “Whoa! Kind of bright.”

Jack’s fingers had already folded around his sunglasses, but as he caught Daniel’s reaction to the light, he quickly dropped them back into his pocket, not wanting to further emphasise the difference in their situations. Instead he joined Daniel in squinting as, ahead of them, Manan gestured towards a footpath that led into the trees immediately behind the barn.

"Hey, hold up!" Jack stopped, catching Daniel's arm. He loosened the rope around Daniel's neck, lifted it over his head, and threw it back through the barn doorway. "I think we can manage without that."

"Thanks," Daniel murmured.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the chafed skin around Daniel's neck. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah," Daniel replied quickly, stretching his shoulder muscles as best he could. "Feeling much better now."

Manan was setting a brisk pace, and aware that Daniel was hampered by his hands being tied behind his back, Jack hovered at his side in case he required a steadying hand. For a few minutes they walked in silence, Jack trying to convince himself the cause of the rope burn was innocent. Trying and failing.

"Things get a little rough last night?" he asked, uncertain that he wanted to hear Daniel’s reply, but needing to know exactly what his team-mate had suffered.

"Actually…" A furrow appeared between Daniel's eyes as he frowned. "Listen, Jack, there's something I need you to do."

"Yeah?" Jack didn't miss the fact Daniel hadn't answered his question.

"Speak with Kyrin for me."

"Kyrin? The woman with the…" Jack mimed having a large belly.

"Yeah, her." Daniel glanced towards him. "She came to see me last night. I think she was going to tell me something about what had gone on when SG-11 were here, but Cal'senja interrupted before she got a chance."

"Daniel, she's the one who condemned you!"

"I know! But… there's something about her, Jack. I just get the feeling that…" Any further coherent conversation from Daniel came to an abrupt end as his gaze fell on their destination. In the centre of a clearing was a ring of standing stones, but unlike similar circles on Earth that were weather-worn and battered, these stones were like new, their corners perfect ninety-degree angles and their surfaces etched with runes.<