On Eagle's Wings

Part Two

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Daniel and Janet reached the castle early in the morning. They were stunned by the activities they found there. The action was hasty but not frantic; things were moving rapidly in an orderly fashion that amazed the visitors from Earth. There was a slow but steadily moving line of women and children hiking from the town up towards the hill, aided by a group of soldiers, their destination being the safe surroundings of the fierce castle walls. A team of sturdy horses pulled a wagon carrying the elderly and any villagers unable to walk. Once inside, another group awaited them and made sure everyone found a place to stay while at the same time ensuring that the villagers wouldn't be in the way of the warriors responsible for defending the immense structure.

Another line of transportation was set up with the purpose of moving vital supplies of food, blankets, and other necessities from the town to the castle. Huge bags of flour, containers of cooking oil, wooden boxes filled to overflowing with vegetables, tools, blankets, small chairs, cooking pots and dozens of other items were being handed from one person to the next, the human chain effectively moving the heavy containers upwards to the safety of the castle.

As Daniel and Janet finally reached the castle walls, they found the king awaiting them.

"Come," Alwin motioned. "The local healers need you, Dr. Fraiser." He pointed her in the direction of the primitive medical outpost. "And you, Dr. Jackson, I have something to show you that I think you will find of great interest." The king then guided Daniel back inside the main castle.

They headed straight to the Knights Hall. Even though Daniel had been in the room since the disappearance of the statue of the Silver Knight and his horse, he was still shocked by the emptiness of the platform where the statue once had stood, dominating the room.

"Come," the king rushed him, as the archaeologist held back for a brief second.

Jackson stepped forward. The black stone with silver handwriting etched into it was the only thing remaining. Daniel frowned when he read the verse, realizing it had somehow changed.

"What is that?" Daniel required, lost in his thoughts.

"We've never seen this, Sir Daniel," King Alwin confessed. "It was suddenly there."

"It's like it's following the events of the battle. Like a game or something?" Daniel asked, amazed by the inscription's sudden appearance. Sort of like those Goa'uld page changing devices, he realized suddenly, the ones they'd found in Mac hello’s horde of wonders. Turning his thoughts back to the wording, the scholar muttered the words aloud. "Dark creatures of the night... that would be what you call the NightSpirits, right?" He looked briefly over his shoulder, taking in the king's nods of agreement.

"Hopeless as it might become... uh, oh," sighed the linguist. "That doesn't sound reassuring."

"Good always defeats bad," Alwin pointed out.

"Well, yeah. But will it in this case?" Daniel scratched his head, thinking. "It says something of a path, do you have any idea what that means?"

"No," the king responded briefly.

"Glowing eyes, gee, that one I know." A shiver crawled over Daniel's spine, all the way up to his neck.

"You know of the Goa'uld? You have met them?" the king demanded.

"Oh yeah. The Goa'uld," Daniel mumbled. "We've encountered a few of them on other planets. A little too closely. You don't want to get to know them personally, Sir, believe me. They *are* as nasty as the legends say." Daniel again studied the inscription. "Beams of white... could that be their energy fields? I thought Kevan said stuff like that didn't work on this planet..."

"The Silver Knight will find a way," the king said positively. "I know he will. It is his destiny."

"Mom," mumbled Daniel. "We've defeated Goa'ulds before, although they're extremely hard to kill. I think I will go back to the library, see if I can come up with anything helpful from the ancient records."

"You do that, Sir Daniel. We shall need everyone's assistance in this battle." With that, the king marched out of the room, leaving Daniel to work in silence.

With the first signs of sunrise, the flow of alien creatures and their Jaffa masters suddenly ceased pouring out of the gate. An eerie silence fell, the alien monstrosities going quiet. Just moments later the wormhole shut down abruptly. The bunches of creatures still alive after the long night of battle retreated until they were surrounding the gate, guarded by the remaining Jaffa.

O'Neill was lying flat on his stomach on a small hill close to the human's first line of defense. With his binoculars, he methodically surveyed the enemy forces arrayed across the wide valley leading to the enormous naquada ring.

"Teal'c, do you recognize these guys?" the Colonel asked, waving a hand at the invading Jaffa who were dressed in unfamiliar armor. Their helmets were gargoyle like grotesque images, distorted creatures like the NightSpirits themselves.

"I have not seen such designs before, O'Neill, but I have heard of a Goa'uld Lord who trades in hosts and hideous beasts. His name is Mordred."

Jack swung around to stare intently at the Jaffa. "Mordred?"

"Yes. Do you know of such a Goa'uld, O'Neill?"

"Well, it's more in Daniel's line, but there's an ancient legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table..."

"Yes, I have read of that, and watched the movies as well," Teal'c interjected.

O'Neill had returned to his prone position, eyes once again fixed to the binoculars with which he was studying the alien army. "Yup. It's been a long time since I saw the movie but I think Mordred was the name of the bad guy who defeated good King Arthur."

Teal'c nodded. "I know nothing more of this Mordred than his name."

"That's okay, Teal'c. I know he's a Goa'uld, and that's all I need to know."

Sending Teal'c back to check on the weapons supply, the Colonel and the Monschau Guard Captain continued to study the enemy forces, and plan for the next phase of the battle.

"They will attack again tonight," O'Neill told Kevan, who was lying next to his new leader, observing the same scene.

"Then we will hold them back again," Kevan said confidently.

"At least as long as we can. We need enough time for all the villagers and outlying farmers to evacuate safely," O'Neill said. Rising to his feet and turning, he looked over the campsite behind them. The hundreds of warriors and knights had settled down to rest, healers were treating the injured and volunteers from the village were setting up camp and feeding the tired fighters. Others stood on guard. O'Neill nodded in satisfaction. These men were well trained and well prepared for the battle, thought the Air Force Colonel. Kevan and his king had done well. Satisfied that at last all the details of command were taken care of, O'Neill gave in to his exhaustion. "We all need to rest, Kevan, we've done all we can for now. They won't attack in daylight, at least not yet." O'Neill wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did know, with a certainty. He yawned, suddenly so tired he could barely stay on his feet. "See that someone wakes me two hours before sunset," he told the guard Captain, then found himself a spot and was sound asleep before anyone could sound a protest.

Ferretti approached, frowning. "What happened?" he asked, looking from O'Neill to Kevan.

"The Silver Knight needs his rest," Kevan said matter-of-factly.

"He hasn't slept for how long?" Lou wondered aloud.

The guard leader shrugged. "The Silver Knight will only rest when there is an opportunity, once every detail is taken care of. I guess that moment only now arrived. I suggest you also get some rest, MajorFerretti. Tonight, the battle will resume."

"How 'bout you, Kevan?" Carter joined in. She looked over to the spot where her CO was resting, then stared at the native warrior. "We can take watch in turns, so you get some rest as well."

Kevan thought it over for a second. He felt it was his job to stay on guard while his master was asleep, but he also knew the trust O'Neill had in his team, so he agreed. "Wake me one hour before you awaken my LordColonel." With that he, too, settled down for a well deserved rest.

Carter walked over to where her CO was sprawled on the ground. Taking a blanket from one of the supply wagons, she covered the Colonel, shocked when the normally light sleeping officer didn't awaken at the touch. Reaching out to touch his wrist, she checked his pulse and observed his steady breathing. With an expression that was a mixture of worry and wonder, she stood to report to Ferretti.

"He seems out cold, Sir. His vitals are strong, though. He doesn't respond to any stimulus, almost as if he's comatose."

"But he's not in a coma?" Lou requested. "Is this a late response to Fraiser's knock out drugs?"

"I don't think so. He's just deeply asleep. Very, very deeply."

"Well, he needs it, so let the man rest," Lou decided. "If we can't rouse him this afternoon, we'll have to transport him back to the castle and have Janet take a look at him. Get some sleep yourself, Major."

"Yes, Sir."

It was late afternoon. The sun was losing its daily battle, slowly being forced to approach the horizon as the daylight hours passed. Kevan was up, giving orders to his men so they were all ready for the next battle. Several men were preparing a simple but nutritious meal above the campfire.

Carter arose fit from the hours of sleep she'd caught in the afternoon, stretching her stiff muscles by performing some quick exercises.

Teal'c was standing on top of the hill, overlooking the secluded valley. No matter how convinced everyone seemed to be that the next round of creatures would arrive after dark, the alien warrior never let his guard down.

Ferretti walked over to him.

"No change?" Lou asked.

"The Stargate remains closed, but they appear to be making preparations, MajorFerretti," Teal'c pointed at the horde of alien creatures below, stirring for the first time in hours.

Ferretti looked and saw the Jaffa that were marching through the group of surviving creatures.

"I think you're right." Ferretti turned, his face grim, and headed towards the still sleeping O'Neill. Kneeling, he placed one hand solidly on the Colonel's shoulder and shook it lightly. "Now would be a good time to wake up, Sir."

O'Neill's eyes flew open. "What? Already?" The gray-haired man immediately sat up, his gaze taking in his surroundings. He was pleased to see that the knights were already preparing themselves for the next fight.

"Yes, Sir. The Jaffa are up and seem to be rallying the creatures. I don't know how long it will take for the gate to re-open, but we'd better grab some supper now, Sir, while we have the chance." Ferretti got up, satisfied O'Neill was all right, apart from the ever-so present necklace.

O'Neill climbed to his feet, greeting his two team members and immediately discussing their next plan of action with Kevan as the group sat down to quickly consume their meal.

Chewing on a lump of bread, Jack then walked over to Teal'c, standing beside the big Jaffa as he once again scanned the area himself. "We haven't got much ammo left, Teal'c," he said to the warrior from Chulak. "We'll need to use bows, swords and axes tonight. I take it you can handle that?"

Teal'c bowed his head. "It will be no problem, O'Neill. Jaffa are trained to use all weapons, even these most primitive ones."

"Sort of figured that, big guy. Good. We're going to slow them down for as long as we can. I need you to watch our right flank. Make sure they don't find a route around the river that way and surprise us. We'll have to fall back before that happens."

Teal'c nodded.

"Thanks. Kevan will take the opposite side and I've assigned Ferretti to watch our backs." With that, O'Neill hurried over to the waiting crowd of fighters to give his instructions. After outlining the plan of inevitable retreat, Jack divided the warriors into three groups, designating one group to fall back on his first command to retreat, another to go second and a third, his own, would withdraw last.

Meanwhile, the sun was disappearing rapidly and the warriors quickly swallowed the last of their meal before sending the non-combatants back to the castle.

Every warrior made sure he was prepared, wearing the right armor, carrying the right weapons, honed and ready for battle.

The sound of the gate spinning startled them into sudden action.

Following the lead of the Silver Knight, the guardsmen rushed to their horses and mounted, taking their places in line. The warriors without horses stood behind them while the archers readied their bows.

The SG teams recognized the familiar sound of the chevrons locking in place and they all inwardly counted, one...two...three...four...five...six...seven.

O'Neill kneed his mount forward, guiding Eagle to the small hill so he could see the Stargate. Nothing happened for several moments, the shimmering surface of the wormhole glittering pale blue in the darkness. All around him there was quiet, a hush through the ranks of the men, the aliens and the horses, as if everyone and everything held its breath. Then, once again, the alien things marched through the gate, creature after creature, accompanied by more Jaffa.

The whole army of NightSpirits broke the eerie silence with shrieks and growls, regrouped, and then started their attack, surging forward like a tidal wave, straight towards O'Neill and his warriors.

O'Neill drew his sword and straightened his back.

Behind him, Kevan whispered his orders to the knights; everyone ready, everyone knowing what they had to do.

The alien creatures came closer and closer, one massive Jaffa in the lead.

Jack lifted his sword above his head and let out a true warrior's howl. "For Monschau!" he shouted, and slammed his heels against Eagle's sides. The great warhorse leaped forward, responding to the Silver Knights command, and behind them, hundreds of voices repeated the cry, hundreds of warriors and horses charged into the battle.

The first clanging of metal striking metal resounded through the mountainous hills, followed by the thundering reports of gunfire.

O'Neill efficiently swung his sword, left and right, cutting down every howling creature that came within his reach. Beside him, Kevan fought his way through the mass of creatures, taking out one of the Jaffa with two quick, well-aimed blows.

Yet, as hard as they battled, for every foe they killed, it seemed two more jumped to take its place.

There were too many, far too many and Carter and Ferretti, fighting side by side, were all too soon running out of ammunition. Abandoning the now useless guns, they had to rely on different kinds of weapons. Carter drew her knife to attack a creature that was about to jump on her and Ferretti had chosen a heavy axe to swing, clearing the area around him with every arcing swing.

Teal'c solemnly strode forward with the others, sword in hand, taking out every creature that jumped at him with one single fierce swing that broke their necks. When three beasts leaped on him, he calmly threw one off, snatched the second by its neck, snapping it before dropping it to the ground, then reached with one hand over his shoulder to haul the third one over his head. Meanwhile, he kept an eye on his surroundings, remembering his task, to make sure the alien Jaffa and creatures didn't get the chance to surround them without being seen.

The once peaceful valley was awash in an overwhelming cacophony of sound: steel striking steel, howling groans of dying creatures, cries of pain of wounded warriors and the nervous neighing of the horses.

"SirColonel! They're trying to flank us on this side!" Kevan yelled, when he noticed a Jaffa leading a contingent of aliens into the forest.

O'Neill pulled the reins and Eagle turned, giving his master a view over the battlefield. He acknowledged the facts, knowing they were greatly outnumbered and in a vulnerable, indefensible position.

"Ferretti, take the first group and fall back to the barrier!" the Colonel ordered. Trusting his fellow officer to follow the command, he plunged back into the fight. With the slight pressure of his knee, he guided Eagle towards a tight knot of battling humans and aliens. An obviously injured Carter was having trouble keeping two aliens off her. Charging into the melee around the Major, O'Neill raised his sword, swung it around, the movement slicing neatly through the alien's body. He watched dispassionately as the creature dropped lifelessly to the ground. Carter mouthed a silent 'thanks', then dispatched alien number two, and moved to join Ferretti.

Lou was already moving quickly, the warriors following his lead, retreating to the barriers and setting up the second line of defense. From there, they were able to concentrate on the advancing creatures that had moved around the former battle scene.

O'Neill then sent off the second group, remaining with the last band of warriors to hold back the attacking creatures as long as possible.

The Silver Knight and his warriors, the men of Monschau and the SG-teams, battled for long hours through the night. O'Neill swung the mighty sword tirelessly hour after hour, charging again and again into the thick of the swirling melee, moving in wherever an extra hand was needed. Sweat dripped down his face and soaked his shirt, mixing with blood from a dozen small cuts and clawing he suffered. Yet he seemed to be everywhere, rallying the men, assisting the wounded and the weary, never pausing, driven by the need to do his duty.

The tiring humans somehow managed to hold the attackers back from the village until dawn, although they had to retreat twice more as the night wore on. When sunrise finally slowed and then stopped the enemy's march, the defenders stopped, exhausted, worn and injured by the time the first beams of sunshine broke through the clouds.

As on the previous day, the Jaffa and their creatures stopped their attack, retreating several miles back toward the Stargate before setting up their own line of defense to stop any effort by the knights to retake the lost ground.

O'Neill set up the watches for the day, taking care that vigilant eyes were posted on all sides. He checked to see that the wounded were being cared for, most being sent back to the castle where Dr. Fraiser, Daniel and many volunteers were treating them; that the remaining fighters had adequate food and water; that the horses were fed and cared for; and finally, that each warrior was praised for his courage and perseverance.

Only then, hours after the fighting had ended, when everyone else's needs were taken care of, he finally dismounted, so weary he staggered, afraid his stiff and aching legs wouldn't support him. Giving Eagle to an eager young stable boy who solemnly promised to feed and groom the horse, he knew that Eagle would be well taken care of.

The medical personnel had already treated the most seriously wounded knights, but were still busy treating the majority of lesser wounds: scratches and scrapes from the teeth and claws of the alien creatures, small nicks and cuts from Jaffa's swords and pikes.

O'Neill found where Carter was being tended to. Both of her arms were covered with bleeding gashes from her battle with the aliens.

"How are you doing, Carter?" he demanded, worry etched on his tired face.

"I'll be fine, Sir," she ensured him. "It's only a couple of minor scratches."

"Hmmm," Jack said, stepping closer to check for himself. "Make sure that Janet looks at those once we're back at the castle, Major."

He now turned to Kevan. "Send two of your men back to Monschau to update King Alwin, Kevan. They can also escort the more seriously injured back to the castle."

"What shall they tell him, SirColonel?" asked the guard Captain.

"Tell King Alwin to expect company tonight. But not to put out the welcome mat."

Kevan, not understanding, shook his head at the strange words of the Silver Knight. "Sir?"

O'Neill waved a hand. "That was Earth humor, Captain. Tell him we're delaying the enemy as long as we can, but he'd better be ready to let us in and slam the door shut right behind us. Okay?"
"Yes, Sir," Kevan saluted, and left to carry out his orders.

After Kevan's departure, O'Neill went in search of his second. "Lou, everything all right?"

Ferretti nodded grimly. "I'm fine. We lost a lot of territory this time, Sir. I don't know if we can keep them out of the village next time."

"I know. There are too many of them, and they just keep coming. There's way too many for us to try to split up and flank them, either." O'Neill sighed heavily, exhausted from the battle and the responsibility that weighed heavily on his lean shoulders. For the first time in days, Ferretti glimpsed his CO, not the Silver Knight persona that seemed to have taken over the man. "I hope to hell the king's got all his people in that castle, and enough food and water to hold out for a while, because quite frankly, I don't know how in hell we're supposed to beat back an army like that," O'Neill waved at the multitude of creatures camped behind them, "with weapons like these," he pointed down at the sword he still carried. "I guess we'll just have to stall them until we can think of something."

"Why don't you get some rest first, Sir," Ferretti offered, suddenly worried about his CO and friend. "I'll wake you when the need arises."

O'Neill agreed only after Ferretti reassured him that he was going to take a nap himself. Within moments, finding a shady spot beneath a towering pine, the Colonel simply curled up on the bed of soft pine needles and was asleep in a minute.

The evacuation of the village was completed on schedule. Every citizen was now safely re-located inside the castle.

The cistern, a deep water storage pit under the castle, was full. While it alone should allow them to hold out for a week or more, King Alwin had nevertheless ordered the villagers to continue moving as much of the precious fluid inside the castle-walls as possible. The stream which ran beside the castle would not be relied upon as a safe water supply, Doctor Fraiser had explained to him, too likely to be contaminated during the coming battles.

During the day, the small group of injured warriors along with the two guardsmen arrived back at Monschau.

The injured were immediately checked into the medical outpost, where Fraiser and the team of local healers started their first serious round of treatment.

The king listened attentively at the report the two members of the guard gave him, nodding at their praise of the leadership of the Silver Knight.

"Well done. I am proud of the warriors of Monschau. You have proven to be resourceful and strong warriors. It is by your excellent fighting skills and the power of our new leader, the Silver Knight, that we were given enough time to move all the citizens of Monschau to safety. I have good faith in this battle, that all will turn out well."

The two warriors glowed with pride at the king's words of praise. "With your permission, my Lord, we now wish to return to the battlefield to assist the guards in defeating the beings of terror."

"Go, then men and spread my words of gratitude." With that, King Alwin escorted the two knights to the heavy castle doors, saluting them as they left.

Once again, at dusk, the battle resumed, the Stargate coming to life and spitting out its deadly travelers. The men of the guard were poised and ready, awaiting the NightSpirits with the confidence borne of battles won, sitting up straight on their horses or standing calmly in the next line of defense.

It was again O'Neill who opened the fight, and soon the steep hillsides around Monschau were once more the scene of fierce battles between the alien beasts and their Jaffa leaders against horses and humans. The forest resounded again to cries of fury, victory, injury and madness.

O'Neill hadn't changed tactics, there was little he could do but fight another delaying action, using his few precious warriors as carefully as possible, knowing they were greatly outnumbered and would stand no chance to counter-attack the aliens. Patience, he reminded himself, some unknown part of himself, the part that was the Silver Knight, assuring him that this was the proper plan, that he would in the end know what he must do to win the final battle. That was both a comforting and frightening thought, that within him lay the answers, the responsibility for protecting so many lives.

Although they were too far away from the gate to witness it themselves, they knew more alien creatures were still arriving on the planet. Even as the knights and archers killed hundreds of the NightSpirits, the enemy's hideous army never got smaller. No matter how many the guards managed to kill, there were always more.

All too soon for his liking, O'Neill realized once again he had to pull his troops back, retreating to the final set of breastworks before the entrance to the city of Monschau. Ferretti was holding the defense line, aware that they weren't able to hold back the enemy any longer. Seeing the weary commander and his guards, he fought his way forward to reach his Commanding Officer.

"They're flanking us again, Sir!" Lou yelled, once within shouting distance.

"I know!" O'Neill shouted back. He swung with the shining blade, taking out two creatures at the same time, pausing to hurriedly looked over his shoulder, searching his colleague's face. "Take the first two groups and fall back, Major. We'll follow shortly once you're in place to cover our backs."

"Yes, Sir!" Ferretti turned, using an axe to smash into every creature that threatened to jump on him as he fought his way back to his troops. Once there, he started issuing commands to begin another orderly retreat.

Even the last line of defense couldn't be saved.

While safe behind the strongly built barriers, O'Neill knew that they couldn't last here, either.

Too many creatures where closing in on them, the numbers swelling to overwhelming proportions while at the same time, the battle was taking a toll on his own forces. The number of injuries among the Monschau Guard rose alarmingly with every minute. Although determined to continue the fight, too many of them were forced to fall back to safely reach the castle and medical attention.

Carter, still holding her own with a tactic of swinging her knife around while moving swiftly, assessed the situation. "Sir? It's gonna take time to get our men back through the narrow streets of town. Maybe we can buy ourselves some time by placing some explosives on each of the bridges, over there, Sir."

O'Neill's eyes darted from one direction to the other. "Just what I was thinking, Major. I'll get Kevan ready to start evacuation of the first group through Monschau. Your job will be placing the C-4 on the left; Ferretti can take care of the right. Set the fuses, get to the castle and wait to blow it on my signal. Teal'c and I will bring up the rear together with Kevan's troop of the Monschau Guard."

"But, Sir? That's a small force... What if you get cut off?"

O'Neill looked over at her, his eyes dark and stern. "If we get cut off, Major, you blow the bridges and protect the castle."

"But..."

"That's an order, Major Carter. If the rear guard gets overrun, blow the bridges."

She blinked, nodded, and unhappily answered, "Yes, Sir," before setting off to find Ferretti to follow their orders. Meanwhile, O'Neill took off to reach Kevan and prepare the rear guard for the final stage of the withdrawal to the castle. Calling together the elite Captain's Unit of the Guard, the Silver Knight issued his orders. "Once inside town, stay together," O'Neill instructed. "Help any man who falls, we are leaving no one behind. Understand?" he asked them, eyes darting from face to face, demanding they listen, and obey.

"We're retreating to the castle, SirColonel?" Kevan asked, knowing the inevitable was at hand.

The Colonel's face was grim when he nodded. "Yes, Captain, there's no other way now. They'll be inside the city wall soon, and we don't have a chance in hell of holding them in those streets. All we can do is delay them, make them earn every inch of ground."

"Then what, Sir?" asked a knight.

"Then we'll have to think of something else," O'Neill replied grimly.

"They're in! They've breached the wall!!" came the sudden shout they all dreaded. Turning Eagle, O'Neill led the elite guard unit on a headlong charge through the streets and into the new battle raging just inside the wall. The alien creatures had somehow broken through, perhaps the brick was old or previously damaged, but a huge hole now existed, and the hideous dog-things were pouring through into the town.

The knights plunged into the battle, and O'Neill shouted at the overwhelmed foot soldiers, ordering them to retreat.

A harried, sweat drenched Captain of ground troops saluted the Silver Knight. "Sir, we did our best."

"I know you did, Son, it's okay. Go now, we'll hold them until you're inside the castle. Get your men out of here..."

"But SirKnight, we want to stay and fight."

"Not now, Captain. You and your men will get another chance. Live to fight another day. Go."

"Yes, Sir," the man saluted. Waving a hand and uttering a hoarse shout, he gathered his men together, and they trotted back across the bridge and up the hill toward the castle.

O'Neill and the guardsmen battled on, but were pushed back step by step as the wave of attackers continued to trickle through the broken wall. Then another section of wall a few hundred feet away tumbled down, and the trickle became a flood of howling, shrieking creatures and their Jaffa masters.

The alien animals were closing in on the remaining defenders who had stayed behind as the last defense. Seeing now that it was hopeless, the Silver Knight knew it was time to concede the city. O'Neill and the handpicked rear guard unit dismounted, preparing to fight in the narrow streets where the horses would be more a hindrance than a help.

"Now! Back! Everyone back, retreat," shouted O'Neill, waving the defenders away from the walls, back toward the hill and the castle. The last members of the Guard slowly worked their way backwards, closely followed by O'Neill and Teal'c, fighting side by side, weapons singing through the air in deadly arcs.

The entrance to the city was a narrow bottleneck, the tall brick walls surrounding the arched doorway allowing their passage only a few men at a time.

Just beside the entrance, the river had its own passage underneath the brick wall, and the water's flow was steady, strong, and deep.

Once inside, the remaining guards worked frantically, dragging and pushing the specially prepared barriers towards the gateway. Teal'c assisted the men, and O'Neill, still seated on Eagles' back, took the opportunity to oversee the situation and give instructions. Soon, they had blocked all but a few entryways into the streets of Monschau, and the aliens would have to cross the bridges or jump into the river in order to move on. That was exactly what O'Neill had planned. Now, even as he watched, the NightSpirits moved through the narrow streets.

"Carter," he yelled, pointing at the first stone bridge they came across. "The minute the first aliens reach the middle of that bridge, blow it! It will slow them down."

"Yes, Sir!" Carter rushed forward, understanding what her CO wanted from her, waiting patiently as the Colonel and the rear guard retreated step by step. A hundred yards from the bridge, O'Neill suddenly stopped, he and Teal'c holding the enemy as he ordered the others to make a run for the bridge. The rear guard dashed for the bridge, Teal'c and O'Neill running hard at their heels. As the humans crossed the bridge and reached safety on the other side, the first aliens started onto the structure, snarling in rage and triumph at making their enemy run.

Carter stared expectantly at her CO.

His hand was raised, his eyes fixed steadily on the gargoyle-headed Jaffa who was cautiously walking across the stone bridge, his pack of hideous creatures tight on his heels. When the alien beings had reached the halfway point, O'Neill dropped his hand.

Carter's finger pressed the button.

The bridge blew, creating a thunderous sound of cracking stone and falling rock. The wails and shrieks of dying creatures followed, along with the angry shouts of those trapped on the other side of the deep river. Choking plumes of dust and smoke drifted through the air. A few seconds later, Ferretti blew the second bridge, and the center of the town was now isolated, but safe for the moment.

O'Neill watched in satisfaction as the wave of attackers halted. This would buy them enough time to reach the safety of the castle, prepare the final defense lines, and close and barricade the drawbridge.

Reaching the castle, the weary Colonel dismounted from his horse, handing the animal over to a groom. Turning to Teal'c and Carter, he began tersely issuing orders. "Teal'c, you'll work with Menden on the castle walls. I imagine they've got some sort of battering ram that they used to break down the city wall. We can't afford that here. See to it any damage to the structure is repaired quickly. Carter, you'll be working with Kevan in assigning and overseeing watches on the walls. We need alert eyes up there every second. Pick the most reliable men, women, too, to keep watch, we don't know what kind of sneak attack those things might try. Ferretti..."

Suddenly, they heard a shout from one of the soldiers atop the gate, and turned to see the man's arms waving frantically, even as the distant sounds of fighting sounded from outside the walls.

Outside? Damn it, no. O'Neill ran up the steps to join the guard at his vantage point on the walls. Everyone was supposed to be inside the castle, he thought. Reaching the side of the guard and peering over the top, Jack could see a small knot of men fighting their way along one of the narrow city streets. "Damn!" he turned as Kevan joined them. "Some of the men must have gotten cut off during the retreat. Kevan, come on!" O'Neill raced to the bottom of the stairs, grabbing his sword and turning to the weary warriors. Many were bloodied by small wounds as he was, some still gasping for air from the last frantic fight and the race to reach the safety of the castle walls. He knew they were exhausted, but he had to rely on their courage and strength once again. "I need a dozen volunteers..." Before the words were out of his mouth, a dozen and more of the men had straightened, hoisted their weapons and prepared to return to the fight.

Smiling grimly in appreciation and acknowledging their courage, the Silver Knight ordered the drawbridge lowered once more. Even as it touched down, O'Neill and the others were running toward the noise of the ongoing fight, some 100 yards away.

The small band of Monschau Guard was surrounded, fighting grimly, but even from a distance Jack could see their weariness in the way their swords swung slowly, their arms held low. With a shout of, "For Monschau!" his small force charged into the fight, beating back the surprised aliens. O'Neill lunged straight at the only Jaffa in sight, the mail-clad figure turning to deftly meet the thrust of the Colonel's sword. Blow on blow, they parried, thrust, swords clanging, fighting for advantage. Jack was quicker, the alien slower but more powerful. As they came together, the big alien pushed O'Neill, the Colonel falling to the pavement, rolling, regaining his feet just in time to deflect the alien's sword which tore across his arm. O'Neill felt the sting of the cut, felt the warm blood leaking down his arm, but pushed on, more determined now as the guards reached their comrades. O'Neill found it disconcerting fighting the alien, unable to see the eyes of his opponent through the heavy Jaffa armor, looking instead at the huge mask of a misshapen creature.

The Jaffa was pushing his advantage, using his size and strength against the lighter, weary human, forcing O'Neill steadily backwards. Jack took a step back, another, then another, letting the alien batter away at him, falling back, falling back. The big Jaffa sensed his opportunity, pressing home his attack.

From a dozen strides away, Kevan saw his leader in trouble. Desperately trying to reach the Silver Knight, the guard Captain cut and flailed with his sword, pushing toward his leader. He saw O'Neill go down, and with a cry of horror thought the Knight had been lost. But even as Kevan lunged frantically toward the Colonel, he saw O'Neill regain his feet, fighting his way forward, lightning quick sword strokes taking the alien by surprise. One quick thrust under the Jaffa's defenses, penetrating the gap in the armor, and the huge alien fell.

Leaderless now, the gargoyle-dog creatures howled, shrieked and fell into disorganized chaos.

The humans retreated. Stepping backwards, still facing the enemy, O'Neill, Kevan, Teal'c and half a dozen others retraced their steps to the castle, weapons held before them, holding the snarling enemy at bay while the other rescuers aided the wounded. It seemed without a Jaffa to direct them, the creatures didn't know when or how to attack, but held back. In their huge numbers, the attackers could easily have overwhelmed the guards, O'Neill knew that, absorbed the information, knowing it would be useful in the long battle still to come.

The group moved slowly, making its way up-hill towards the fierce structure of the castle, leaving the town of Monschau to the enemy.

At long last, after what seemed like endless hours of cautious retreat, Jack felt his booted foot touch not the brick of the street, but the heavy wood of the drawbridge. With a last rush of energy, the rear guard ran across the bridge, already lifting even before they'd cleared the span.

Once inside the castle, the men collapsed, many wounded, the others exhausted by the all out effort. O'Neill's lungs heaved with the effort of drawing breath, his arm ached where the Jaffa's long bladed knife had sliced into his arm, the blood trickling now across his hand.

Dirty, sweaty, grimy, bloody, he and all his men. O'Neill looked at them in gratitude. "Hell of a fight, boys," he said. "You can be in my Air Force any day."

When the sun rose that day, for the first time, the creatures did not draw back toward the Stargate. They stayed in the village, their loathsome noises filtering through the heavy stone walls of Castle Monschau.

The battle had changed. The siege had begun.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

O'Neill had finally given in to the others’ demands that he see Dr. Fraiser, letting her clean and stitch his arm. Her small, makeshift infirmary was packed with injured knights, other wounded fighters and a few villagers. As he entered the room, Doc turned weary eyes to him, concern forging a frown on her face as she saw blood on his arm. "Colonel?"

"Just a cut, Doc. Needs a few stitches, I think," he told her.

She pointed to a small bench near the window where daylight streamed in, allowing her to examine the injury to his arm. Fraiser studied him pointedly as she cleaned the wound with a salve made of native plants. "This local herb will numb your arm long enough for me to suture it," she told him, her eyes drawn again to the silver chain which was still embedded in the flesh and bone of his shoulders and chest. "Are you okay otherwise, Colonel?" she asked as she worked.

"Yeah. Fine. But speed this up, Doc, I've got a lot to do."

She was already reaching for her stethoscope and bp cuff. "Sir, I need to do a quick check up."

"I'm fine, except for this," he insisted, pointing at his injured arm, "and this is no big deal."

"Colonel," Doc gave him her official medical officer stare. "I'm the one who decides if you're fine or not. And quite frankly, I know you're not fine as long as that 'thing'," her eyes flicked down to the chain of power, "is still part of you, and influencing you in ways we don't know or understand."

"It's helping me," he answered her simply.

"How?"

"I know things, Doc," Jack waved his uninjured arm in the air as he tried to explain while keeping his face neutral, hiding the worry he didn't allow himself to think about, with this alien thing now a part of him. "Things that are helping me help these people."

"Well, it's also got your blood pressure and heart rate well above normal."

"I've just spent the last 12 hours fighting an army of alien critters that would make pit bulls look like lap dogs. Things like that *usually* do raise a man's blood pressure."

"I know that, Colonel, but I still don't like this."
"Whether you or I like it or not, Doc, is irrelevant at the moment. We've got a war to win first. We'll worry about this, later," his hand came up to briefly touch the warm gleaming metal encircling his neck.

Doc nodded, and finished tying the stitches in the now closed wound. "Rest, then come back in the morning..."

"No time for sleep, Doc," O'Neill answered cheerily, already on his feet and three steps toward the door. "I've got work to do..."

Fraiser watched him go, worrying more than ever about what was happening to the Colonel.

O'Neill went first in search of his team's archaeologist/linguist/scholar and all around fountain of knowledge, knowing the man would most likely be found wherever the books were kept. Jack was not disappointed. He found Daniel ensconced in the dusty library near the royal family's quarters.

"So, what do ya' know?" he asked by way of greeting.

Daniel lifted his head from his stack of books in surprise. "Oh, you're here."

"Ah, yeah. Here." The Colonel waved a hand at the rows and rows of books. "Read them all yet?"

"Not even close. But I've learned a few things..."

"Like?"

"Like the Goa'uld's name is Mordred."

"Knew that," O'Neill quipped smugly.

"You did?"

"Yeah, Teal'c figured it out."

"Oh," a disappointed frown crossed Daniel's face. "In the Mort de Arthur, popularly known as the play and movie Camelot, Mordred was Arthur's enemy..."

"Yeah, yeah, Arthur, Lancelot, Quinevere, the Round Table. Know that too."

"Oh. So, the Goa'uld Mordred apparently raids here for slaves and hosts..."

"I know that."

Jackson threw O'Neill an annoyed look. "So if you already know what I know, then why'd you come here?"
"Because I was hoping you'd know something I don't know."

"Well, I know all kinds of things you don't know," Daniel retorted. Frowning at O'Neill's smug grin, he continued, "but I don't have time to get into all that now."

Jack brushed books, papers and dust off a chair and sank down tiredly onto the seat, trying to inconspicuously cradle his injured arm. Damn thing ached, now that the numbing salve had worn off. "What I was hoping you'd know is something about how the other Silver Knights won their battles."

"Things not going so well?" Daniel asked. He'd been down here in the library all day.

"No, they're not. The NightSpirits have taken the town. We're now under siege, cut off and surrounded."

"Oh. That's not good."

"No. It's not."

Daniel frowned at the books in front of him. "Well, I've read about more than a dozen incarnations of the Silver Knight. But none of them explain exactly how he won any of the battles he won. Or how he lost those he lost."

"Well that's real helpful," Jack couldn't stop the sarcastic tone, well, okay, he admitted to himself, he hadn't tried very hard. He was too tired to be sparring with Daniel.

"I thought that thing," Jackson waved at the silver chain on O'Neill's chest, "told you everything you need to know."

"No, just sort of images, general things. Like the enemy's likely battle tactics, how to use the weapons here," Jack wearily rubbed a hand across his face. "I keep getting flashes of a place I haven't seen, though, of a big, dark room..."

"The dungeon?"

"Maybe. Probably. But I can't find the place. I don't know why it's important," the Colonel raised weary eyes to his friend, "but I know it is."

Daniel stared off into space, searching his brain for that one dim recollection. "A poem, something about a poem, a prophecy, really," he muttered, standing, digging hastily through the stack of books on the desk. "Hmmm, here, no wait," he discarded that scroll, picked up another, and began to read aloud:

"Oh, that's really helpful," Jack frowned. "More mumbo jumbo mystery."

Daniel raised his hand. "Wait, there's more."

"Oh, right, that explains everything exactly," O'Neill glared, standing and starting out the door.

"Jack, wait. This poem, it means your vision is right. Somewhere, here, there's a path."

"What path? A gate? Like the Stargate? We're cut off Daniel, there's a thousand or ten thousand of those things between us and the gate."

"Jack, somewhere, there's a path out of this castle. This poem, it's a map."

"That poem is a myth, a fairy tale."

"Yeah, like the Silver Knight and that necklace?" Daniel stared at O'Neill, willing the man to listen. "This stuff isn't exact, I'll grant you that. It's not supposed to be. But these are clues that will help us, help *you*, find what you need to find. It's as real as anything on this planet."

"Yeah, right," O'Neill waved a hand and walked wearily back to the burdens of his command.

He couldn't even nap, not today. Too many thoughts were nagging at him, irritating him, probably some of that nonsense Daniel had spouted at him.

The Silver Knight spent most of the day discussing siege strategy with the king; looking in on the guards, both the wounded and the well; praising and encouraging the warriors and the villagers; reviewing weapon supplies; checking on food and water; talking to the SG personnel and the guard Captain; seeing to a thousand details.

Just the first day, and already he was going stir crazy, trapped in the confines of the castle, Jack realized. A big place, true, but trapped none the less.

While dusk fell, O'Neill stood on the ramparts, the alien army a seething mass of darkness in the streets of the town below.

As he watched, a shaft of sunlight from the sinking orb struck his armor, flashing silver light. He heard the humans in the courtyard below exclaim at the sight, then heard the murmur of alien noise from outside the fortress, an angry hissing. An arrow, fired from somewhere in the teeming army below, fluttered past his shoulder, and another and another. Knowing the missiles were too spent to pierce the silver armor, he stood defiantly, listening to the raging enemy.

Darkness claimed the landscape. The night remained quiet for hours, and then the first attacks began. Wave after wave of NightSpirits swam the moat, crashed against the castle walls, sharp claws scaling the stone, the defenders driving them off with swords, pikes, staffs, arrows, even bare hands.

The battle raged until dawn arrived.

With the appearance of the light, the weary defenders collapsed in exhaustion.

Except O'Neill.

The Silver Knight could not sleep. The vision or dream or hallucination, whatever he wanted to call it, continued to haunt him. He rested less than an hour, then began roaming the halls, the passageways, even the dark, dank spaces of the dungeon.

Four days and four nights, the battle raged while the Silver Knight hunted for the path.

"This could go on for weeks," said the king dispiritedly after the fifth night. "They continue to send troops against us, their army never growing smaller, while our men succumb to injuries."

O'Neill nodded. "Yes. We still have enough warriors to cover the walls, but thinly. The NightSpirits always concentrate their attack on one section of the wall. To counter that, I've pulled back a reserve force of warriors, archers, soldiers, and volunteers from among the villagers. Major Ferretti will command. They'll stay in the courtyard until the attack begins, then we move them in to support where they're needed. With this tactic we can maintain an adequate fighting force with fewer personnel. At least, for now."

The king waved a hand at the warrior from off-world. "Is that the strategy of the Silver Knight?"

"No, it's the strategy of Napoleon Bonaparte, actually." The king lifted an eyebrow in question. "Earth general. Great soldier, lousy emperor. Good strategy."

King Alwin looked over at his tired warriors, at O'Neill and his SGC cohorts, at Kevan and the elite Monschau Guard. "We will prevail. We must hold on until we find the answer."

Quietly, then, the council of war adjourned, the weary soldiers retiring to rest.

O'Neill once again prowled the castle. He knew the answer was here, somewhere, the knowledge just beyond his reach, right there, like a half-remembered fact lurking in the back of his brain.

At dusk of the sixth day, he still had no answers, either as the Silver Knight or as Colonel O'Neill. Wearily, Jack once again donned his armor and picked up the sword, fighting back a wave of despair as he prepared to resume the battle. Why, he wondered, why him? Why was he fated for this, another failure, this time not one that cost the life of one child, but would cost the lives of hundreds if not thousands of innocents? The Silver Knight was supposed to protect, lead, save these people, and so far he'd done none of those things.

Climbing slowly up to a vantage point on the west wall of the fortress overlooking the alien occupied village, the Colonel once again used his binoculars to scan the army massing below. He swept the field glasses across row after row of the misshapen dog-like creatures and the dozens of Jaffa who lead them. His gaze swept across a mass of logs and poles, and stopped. He turned the field glasses back, and cursed.

"Damn."

"What is it, Sir?" asked Kevan, who stood beside his leader.

"They've built some sort of catapult."

"Catapult?"

"It's a device, a machine, that can throw things, big heavy things, things like rocks and stones, that can batter a hole in the castle wall." O'Neill waved at the stack of logs which lay next to the moat a few hundred yards away. "With those, they can lay the poles across the moat, use them like a temporary bridge to span the water."

Even as O'Neill watched, he heard the groaning creak of the catapult being readied, and the whistle of something massive cutting through the air. The impact of the stone against the castle wall rocked the great structure.

The Silver Knight was immediately on his way off the turret, taking the stairs two at a time. "Menden! Teal'c!" he shouted, racing toward the spot where more rocks were pounding steadily on a segment of castle wall. The two men met him in moments.

"O'Neill?"

"Colonel?"

"We need to shore up this area, reinforce it however you can from inside," the Colonel ordered.

"Yes, Sir," responded Menden and the Jaffa, gathering the village blacksmith and others to aid in working on the wall.

The courtyard was in chaos, frightened villagers running in all directions, horses in the nearby stable neighing in fear, warriors moving into position along the walls which shuddered with the crash of each missile. O'Neill shouted an order at a nearby guardsman. "You, get these villagers moved back over there," he waved to the far side of the courtyard. Pointing at another guard, "see to it there are grooms with the horses. We'll move them if we have to."

Order began to overcome the chaos.

The creatures chose that moment to launch their attack along the south wall. Ferretti moved in his reserve force to assist the beleaguered defenders. Even as they fought through the long hours of the night, they could hear the constant thump of missiles striking the west wall. They grew accustomed to the steady rhythm- a shuddering crash, long silent moments, then another crash. A giant crack now marred the huge stone wall.

And then the NightSpirits' tactics changed.

The thunder of rocks striking the outer walls stopped. O'Neill paused in the middle of issuing orders to Kevan, apprehensive at the sudden silence. "I don't like this," he muttered, looking around worriedly. "Something..."

The next missile missed the castle wall. For a moment, O'Neill was thankful that the thing had overshot it's target. It arced over the massive fortress, a ball of fire landing harmlessly in the courtyard.

Fire! Damn, they were trying to set the place on fire! Turning to Kevan's second, the Silver Knight ordered, "Luka, muster whoever you can find, villagers, even the women and children, for a fire brigade. Use the sand to smother the flames if you can. Use the water sparingly."

"Yes, Sir," the man saluted and ran to his task.

"Kevan, I need a couple of your best archers, on the west wall, five minutes ago," O'Neill ordered.

The Earth phrase confused him. "Sir?"

"Get a couple of your best archers on the wall as soon as you can. We need fire arrows. Maybe we can give them back some of what they've sent us."

The Colonel climbed back onto the walkway along the wall, pacing impatiently as he helplessly watched the enemy preparing to fire another flaming missile at the castle. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him, a pair of men carrying long bows saluted him. "SirKnight?"

"Can you hit that with a fire arrow?" O'Neill pointed at the catapult's wooden structure.

"Yes, milord," they answered in unison. Arrows wrapped in tar soaked cloth were set ablaze, and the archers swiftly pulled their bowstrings taut, releasing the arrows with a twang of vibrating string. The first flew true to it's target, embedding the point into the structure of the wooden weapon. The flames smoked, then died away. A second arrow, a third and a fourth, all hit the target but failed to ignite the wood.

"Damn, they must have used green logs," the Silver Knight muttered angrily. Staring out over the ramparts once again, eyes narrowed, he surveyed the enemy forces. Making up his mind, O'Neill turned once more to the guard Captain. "I need volunteers, as many mounted knights as we can gather, to make a sortie."

"Sir? A sortie?"

"A sortie. A move against the enemy."

"But why? We can't defeat them out there," Kevan wondered.

"We need to get at that catapult. We won't last 24 hours in here with that thing flinging rocks at the walls or fireballs over them." Even as they talked, a second flaming missile landed near the stables. Luka's volunteers went immediately to work dousing the flames, hurriedly shoveling sand over the burning materials. "We can't hold them off for long like this. We don't have enough personnel to fight fires *and* man the walls. And once they breach that wall, they'll be in. So we have to stop that thing."

"But how, SirColonel?"

"Well, Carter has a little of that C-4 left. We're going to go on the offensive. At dawn, I'll lead a charge and once outside, we split up, down those two streets on this side of the bridge. The main force goes left, and hopefully draws most of the attackers that way. Then we send a small group quietly to the right. We only need one man to get to that infernal machine, plant the C-4, and get the hell out."

"I shall plant the explosives," Teal'c offered, having joined the strategy conference.

"No," O'Neill disagreed. "We need you here to work with Menden on the wall. I'll go."

"Sir, you cannot!" objected Kevan. "You must not risk yourself so foolishly."

"It's not a foolish risk, Kevan. We know the creatures don't like the daylight. This whole battle has been fought in the dark of night. So we take advantage of that. Draw the enemy toward the feint. Make it look like we're trying to get to the river, to water. That should fool them. I'll sneak away, and plant the explosives." The Colonel looked sternly at the young guard Captain. "It will work, Kevan. It has to. We can't withstand another night of this bombardment."

"I understand, SirColonel, and I will follow your orders, but I do not like them."

O'Neill nodded. "Fair enough. Now, let's get our force together, and see to it they get some rest before dawn."

The chosen warriors rested as much as they could over the next three hours, despite the noise of the battle. Just before dawn, they quietly mounted their horses, mustering silently behind the portcullis. At O'Neill's nod, the gate was raised, and the drawbridge lowered. Even before it was completely in place, the Silver Knight kneed Eagle forward, the horse charging across the bridge, his hoof beats ringing across the old wood. Fifty knights galloped behind, swinging left, as if to make a circling movement toward the river.

A Jaffa spotted them. Above the rattle of steel and the ring of shod hooves on stone, O'Neill heard the alien's shout and saw the waving arm. From the corner of his eye he spotted the first of the NightSpirits leaping forward. Though the enemy quickly swarmed toward the knights, they seemed less aggressive; perhaps their eyesight was poorer in the light? O'Neill wondered, even as his sword cut through the first attacking creature. Soon though, he had no time to think, only time to fight, wielding his sword steadily as the men pushed back the aliens.

They reached the cross street. O'Neill slipped further and further to the side of the battle. More attackers were charging in to join the fray, the malformed creatures focused on the battle. Checking once more that no one was watching, the Colonel dropped Eagle's reins, slid from the saddle, and jogged down the narrow street, once again thankful for the lightweight armor of this world.

The street he had chosen was little more than an alley winding its way among the ancient stone buildings of the town. Fifty yards down the way, he suddenly heard the scratching sound of approaching creatures. He ducked into a doorway and waited, holding his breath while they passed. The creatures were intent on joining the fight, oblivious to their surroundings. At the rear of the group, a single Jaffa hurried to keep pace. An especially large and loathsome creature trotted closely at his side. Jack pushed back further into the doorway as the animal stopped, raising its head and sniffing the air, a low whining cry coming from its throat. The Jaffa peered around, then uttered a snarling, guttural word, cuffed the beast and commanded it to move forward.

The animal cast one last longing look at the doorway where O'Neill stood concealed, then with a low growl turned and rejoined its master.

Jack breathed. Damn, that was close, he thought. Too close.

Time was passing, he had to hurry. Once again heading up the alley, he moved steadily but stealthily, peering cautiously around each corner until he was within sight of the massive, towering machine-- a structure of logs cut from giant trees in the nearby forest, a sling and a collection of pulleys and counterweights, a primitive but effective war machine.

A dozen NightSpirits lay sleeping in the shadows around the base of the catapult. Jack used precious minutes watching. All seemed deeply asleep. There was no sign of a Jaffa or other guard. Quietly then, O'Neill drew his sword and stepped forward, slipping along the edge of an old house to the base of the catapult. With his left hand he stuffed a chunk of C-4 against a support strut, inserted the timer, set it to three minutes, and turned to leave.

He'd taken only a dozen quiet steps when suddenly something materialized out of the shadows in front of him, a hideous creature, slavering, growling. Jack backed up one step. The creature emerged into the light, blinking, its head turning from side to side, confirming O'Neill's suspicions that the light hampered its vision. It seemed to be sniffing, as if trying to locate the human by smell. Hesitantly, it stepped forward.

O'Neill was mentally counting off the seconds. He didn't have time to stand here. Making up his mind, he leaped forward, the fierce swing of his blade nearly decapitating the creature. Before the alien animal's body hit the ground, the Silver Knight was running down the alley, toward the battle and his comrades.

Behind him, the NightSpirits awakened, howled and gave chase.

He knew he couldn't outrun them.

Rounding a corner and momentarily out of sight of the aliens, O'Neill raced for a doorway, throwing his shoulder into the door, forcing it open. Once inside what turned out to be a small shop, he pushed a chair and table to barricade the door, then searched out the back exit. That would slow up his pursuers, he hoped. He only needed a few more minutes.

Out the back door, breathing raggedly, Jack forced himself to walk. Running would be too noisy, draw the creatures to the sound. Quiet steps, quiet Jack, he ordered himself, quashing the desire to run. He'd gone another hundred yards when his internal clock warned him to duck. He braced himself in a doorway, hands over his head, just seconds before the C-4 went off.

With a thunderous roar, the street beneath his feet lifted and buckled with the power of the explosion. Debris rained down out of the sky. The unearthly shrieking of the aliens grated against his ears as he turned and ran again, straight toward the sounds of battle.

By the time he could see the fight, he was forced to cut a path through swarms of the creatures. Jack whistled and saw Eagle suddenly appear at the mouth of the alley. A NightSpirit lunged at the horse, claws extended, but the animal whirled and kicked out with its hind legs, flinging the creature though the air. Another attacked the horse from in front, but the stallion reared up, crushing the alien with steel shod forefeet. O'Neill's sword whistled through the air as he thrust, jabbed, swung the blade right and left in his battle to reach the horse and the other fighters nearby.

He could hear the hoarse shouts of the knights now, see them, knew he was close, knew he'd make it. He slashed at one creature, jabbed at another, kicked a third out of his path.

Something snared his leg. Sharp teeth bit through the joint of the light mail he wore, tearing flesh just above his ankle. "Arrgggh," he shouted, jabbing at the animal, but the damage was done. He could feel his own blood flowing down into his boot. He staggered, limping forward, the creatures swarming now, blocking his path, drawn by the sharp, coppery scent of fresh blood. O'Neill stumbled backwards, his back against the wall of a shop, thrusting defensively with the long bladed sword.

Again and again, he drove them back as sweat rolled down his face, his arms growing heavy with exhaustion. He couldn't hold them off much longer, there were too many.

A hideous thing with six inch tusk-like teeth leaped on his left arm, locking its jaws around the armor protecting his flesh, but its weight disrupted his defense. Another lunged in from that side, snapping at his heels while a half dozen others drew steadily closer, so close he could smell their fetid breath, hear their breath rasping above his own desperate gulps for air.

This is it, he thought, this is one ugly way to go...

A cry sounded suddenly behind him. Teal'c, Kevan and a half dozen knights charged down the alley, shouting, weapons swinging, driving the creatures before them, forcing them to retreat.

O'Neill straightened, whistled again, and Eagle trotted to him. The Colonel swung up into the saddle, turning the horse to join the others as they moved back to the battle, calling the retreat now, their goal accomplished.

The Silver Knight was rescued, the catapult destroyed. Castle Monschau had bought another few days reprieve.

Dr. Fraiser was waiting for the Colonel who limped into her infirmary, leaning on Teal'c's strong shoulder. Which one of them, doctor or patient, looked more worn and exhausted could have been debated, but neither had the energy for unnecessary talk. O'Neill sat silently while Doc cleaned and stitched the cut on his leg.

"Sir, you should rest," she advised.

"I've got a castle to defend, Doc."

"You'll defend nothing if you collapse from exhaustion," she warned.

"Okay, I'll catch a nap."

"More than a nap, Colonel."

"Nap's the best I can do, Doc," he said, standing, weaving with exhaustion, but forcing himself to limp away toward his quarters.

His quarters. He'd barely seen them over the past week since they'd been under siege in the castle. Not even bothering to remove the sweat stained bloody clothes he wore, Jack collapsed on the bed, immediately asleep.

Ten minutes later, Daniel and Sam arrived at the infirmary.

"We just heard the Colonel was hurt," the Major asked Janet, looking around the room cluttered with pallets occupied by wounded soldiers.

"He was here, but I sent him to his quarters to rest," Doc explained.

"Nothing serious then," Daniel said with obvious relief.

"Well, sort of," Doc countered. "He suffered a leg wound which needed more than a dozen sutures. Nothing life threatening. But his vitals are still off and he's clearly exhausted. I don't know how he keeps going-- in the middle of the battle all night every night, then taking charge of all the details every day. I don't think he's sleeping more than an hour or two at a time, if that."

"I know. I've found him roaming the hallways at all hours, when he's supposed to be resting," Daniel noted.

"And I've never seen anything like his demeanor during the battle." Sam shook her head. "It's like he's on autopilot, swinging that sword, hand to hand combat, hour after hour, all night last night and the night before, and for how many nights before that. All the others take breaks, switch posts, but he doesn't." She ran a hand through her hair, "It's not human."

Daniel was staring at the two women, his eyes suddenly going wide. "Berserker."

"What?" Doc asked, confused.

"Legendary ancient warriors, they were called berserkers," Daniel explained in rapid fire speech. "Berserkers were humans who fought tirelessly, savagely and then when the battle was over, they'd just collapse, rest for a few hours. When the battle resumed, they'd just fight on and on."

"No one could do that under normal conditions," Doc mused, "but..."

"But what, Janet?" Sam asked.

"Well, it does tie in with the Colonel's elevated vitals, and with those first blood test results, after he put the necklace on. His adrenaline levels *were* high. That could cause a man to fight on past normal exhaustion, despite injuries, then collapse when the effect wears off."

"So the necklace of power is pumping him full of adrenaline?" Daniel queried.

"Or causing his own system to overproduce adrenaline," Doc looked up at the other two, a frown crossing her face. "Either way is bad for the Colonel, overloading his system. Sooner or later, he'll crash, and crash hard."

He awoke hours later. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew someone was in the room with him. O'Neill opened his eyes a narrow slit and recognized Daniel's form draped across a chair, a book in his lap. The Colonel stretched and sat up, looking around, checking his watch to see that he still had time before nightfall and the resumption of the battle.

"Hey, you're awake," said Daniel.

"Ah, yeah, got things to do," O'Neill was already swinging his legs to the floor, grimacing as his injured ankle flared with pain.

"Hurts?"

O'Neill shrugged. "Nothing much. It'll be okay."

"Doc's worried about you."

"Doc's always worried about me. That's her job."

"Well, then, she's more worried than usual. About the stress..."

"This is a stressful situation, Daniel," the Colonel snapped. "We're surrounded by a couple of thousand bloodthirsty creatures straight out of some horror movie script, lead by Jaffa's controlled by a Goa'uld who's here to harvest hosts, kill the warriors and in general make life unpleasant for any survivors. We're trapped in a castle, under siege, and we're going to run out of food and water if I don't think of something. Soon." He combed a hand through the spiky silver hair. His voice softened. "They think I'm their savior, I'm supposed to have all the answers. But I don't have any answers, or at least not the right ones." O'Neill sat back down on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling more tired than he had before his rest. He hadn't slept well despite his exhaustion, because of the dreams, the dreams that wouldn't leave him alone, the dreams of an echoing cavern, darkness, quiet, and the sound of his own hammering heart.

"Well then, maybe I've got an answer for you."

Jack's head snapped upward. "Let's hear it."

"I've found another poem."

"Oh for crying out loud, Daniel, not another one of those vague, 'the Silver Knight's the hero but we can't tell you how, nana nana nah nah' things." O'Neill waved a hand dismissively. "I don't want to hear it."

"But this one's different. It has directions. Sort of." Daniel read from his notebook:

"That's directions?" Jack groused.

"Well, I thought we could go to the Knights Hall and see if this leads us to anything," Daniel glanced at O'Neill expectantly. "It's at least a place to start."

The Colonel stared back a moment, then shrugged. "What the hell. Can't be any more of a waste of time than what I've been doing..."

The two men from Earth, joined by Carter and Teal'c, headed down to the Knights Hall. At the entranceway to the huge room, they all stopped, looking around.

"So, where do we start? We're at the Knights Hall," Jack tipped his head, questioning Daniel.

"I'm not sure. I thought maybe you'd know."

"Right," O'Neill snapped sarcastically, and limping, stalked down the middle of the long room, past the rows of weapons and armor, down to where the Knight and his horse had stood. He sat down on the edge of the platform, head in his hands. Jack tried to force his thoughts into some sort of order, tried to call up the flashes of memory that had come to him in his dreams since he'd put on the silver chain. Staring at the intricate pattern on the floor, he let his mind drift. Dimly, he could hear the other members of SG-1 talking softly as they walked around the walls of the room, looking for something.

In front of him, as he stared at the floor, he suddenly recognized a pattern, a familiar pattern, etched into the swirling design of inlaid stone. How could he not have seen this before? It was obvious. There, that series of turns, that seemed like the path he'd used to go down to the old wine cellar, to the old door that the castellan had told him was simply an unused ancient storage room.

Jack stood, saying nothing, walking silently out of the hall, and down the corridor, taking the first door on the right.

The others stared after him.

"Sir, where are you going?" Carter demanded.

He didn't answer, didn't acknowledge her question.

"I think we ought to follow him," suggested Daniel, and they hurried out into the hallway just in time to see O'Neill disappear into a doorway. "Go forth, then right," the archaeologist repeated the words of the ancient text as they followed Jack. "Then down..." and before them they saw O'Neill already treading down the stairs. They were right on his heels when he emerged into the dim cellar. Grabbing a torch from the wall near the door and lighting it, O'Neill walked past the huge barrels of wine, and toward the old doorway.

"What?" Daniel asked.

O'Neill turned to him. "I.. It just seems like I should come here." Jack handed Daniel the torch, then grabbed hold of the rusted handle of the ancient door. He pulled. Nothing happened.

"Let me assist, O'Neill," said Teal'c. Using his great strength, bracing a foot against the wall, he pulled, the muscles in his shoulder bunching with the strain. Dust sifted out from around the edges of the door as it rocked, creaked and then slowly shifted. Jack added his hands to the effort and together they pulled the door, moving it inch by inch, until it stood open far enough for the team members to slip through.

Daniel had lit a second torch, handing one to O'Neill, keeping the other for himself. Jack suddenly felt light, felt right, felt he knew this was the right place. Confidently, he stepped forward, brushing cobwebs out of the way.

They were in a tunnel. The walls were rough carved, the ceiling more than seven feet high. The floor sloped gently downward for half a dozen steps, then a series of wide, easy steps carried them down. Daniel had counted more than sixty steps when O'Neill stopped.

Another door. Again, Teal'c and the Colonel combined their strength to open the ancient wood.

This time, they emerged into a huge room, a giant echoing cavern.

"Wow," Carter marveled, turning all around to look. The room had to be 50 feet across, 10-12 feet in height, and perhaps another 40 feet in length. "We've got to be 100 feet under the castle, at least. Probably at the level of the valley floor. I think this is a natural cave. See, over there, stalactites and stalagmites," she pointed at icicle like structures growing down from the roof and up from the floor. But here, in the middle, there were none. Or perhaps long ago they'd been broken or cut away.

O'Neill, followed by his teammates, walked unerringly forward toward the far end of the chamber where there seemed to be a small alcove. Seven steps led up to a small platform and an archway, like a doorway, that seemed to lead nowhere. Behind it there was only solid rock.

Carter was gazing around, then spied a small upright pedestal set near the wall. Holding the torch aloft, she walked toward it and stopped dead in her tracks. "Holy Hannah!" she breathed.

Daniel, following Jack, spun to look at her. "Sam? What?"

"It's a DHD!" The Major was marveling at the device in front of her as Daniel hurried over to peer over her shoulder. "It's a DHD." Her hand slid across the familiar orange-red oval dome, like an upside down bowl, in the middle of the slanted top of the pedestal.

"But there aren't any symbols," he objected.

"It doesn't need any," Jack said, quietly. "It doesn't lead to another planet. It leads out of the castle."

"What?" Daniel looked puzzled. "What good would that do? Everyone could leave here and go where? The Goa'uld and his army would just follow."

"Not everyone," O'Neill's eyes were alight with sudden inspiration. "A strike force, a surprise attack from the rear, split the enemy forces, drive a wedge through their defenses. Knights, horses, archers, warriors, we all go through this gate. This is the path." The Colonel threw his fists into the air. "Yes!!"

By the time they emerged from the underground cavern, it was nearly dusk, and Kevan and the guards were nearly frantic with worry over being unable to locate the Silver Knight.

"SirColonel, we must ready the defense," he reminded his leader.

O'Neill was smiling. "Yes, Kevan, one more night. Then, we take the path to victory."

"Sir?"

"We've found the path. We'll need 24 hours to prepare. So tonight we must once more defend the walls, and make preparations for the final battle. Now, tell King Alwin I must see him at first light. We'll plan our strategy then."

"Yes, m'Lord," bowed one of the pages and hurried off to find the king.

Another night of battle ensued. The enemy, having been unable to breach the walls with their catapult which was now destroyed, had returned to their previous all-out mass assaults against a section of castle wall. This time, they attempted to scale the cliff face on the north side of the castle, their long claws digging into the stone, clinging to each tiny crack or crevice. The Monschau forces fought grimly, giving no quarter, using every weapon and tactic at their disposal. Archers fired arrow after arrow, each well aimed shaft ending the life of one of the misshapen creatures. Steaming cauldrons of hot tar and boiling oil were dumped down the castle walls onto the gargoyle-like things. Only a few successfully made the arduous climb and those were easily defeated, skewered by the defenders' spikes or slashed by swords.

At sunrise, the night's battle concluded, O'Neill met with King Alwin, Kevan, the other Monschau Guard officers, Teal'c, Ferretti, Carter and Daniel.

As soon as they were all assembled, the Silver Knight began. "We've found a secret passageway out of the castle."

"What?"

"That's impossible!"

"There is no way out."

"But there is. From the wine cellar, an old doorway, and stairs down to a cavern, and a, um, a portal, like the Stargate, that will take us out into the forest, about here," O'Neill pointed to a map on the wall, indicating the spot that he somehow knew was right. "We'll go in the dark of the night, wait until dawn when the creatures begin having trouble with the light, and launch a three pronged surprise attack from the rear. Speed and stealth is of the essence. I'll lead one attack force, driving toward the command post, which seems to be here," O'Neill indicated another point between the town and the Stargate.

"Kevan will take another wing, and cut them off from the gate and further reinforcements, while Teal'c will lead a charge from the rear. Major Ferretti will launch a simultaneous break out from the castle. This will be a hard, fast battle. Give no quarter. Converge on the Jaffa. These werewolf-whatevers don't seem to know what to do without the snakes to lead them, so concentrate on taking them out. It will make the NightSpirits less aggressive and more vulnerable."

The Colonel turned to his teammates. " Carter, you're in charge of keeping the castle secure. Daniel, you'll help Doc with the wounded." O'Neill, the silver chain of the necklace of power gleaming in the reflected light, glanced around the room. "This is our chance. We take them by surprise, crush them in a pincer maneuver, and take back the gate and the town. It won't be easy. But I've fought beside you for a week and more now, and there's not a man of the Monschau Guard I wouldn't trust with my life." He looked out the small window and into the courtyard, at the women and children clustered there. "They're depending on us," he said softly, turning back to the warriors, meeting their gaze with his own. "We can't let them down."

Though excited by the Silver Knight's news, the exhausted warriors of Monschau took their rest during the day, knowing it would be a long night of battle. At dusk, as it had for eight days now, the battle resumed, the alien creatures throwing themselves at the castle walls. The defenders once again fought grimly on, buoyed by the knowledge that they would soon have their chance to strike back.

Sometime after midnight, Kevan began pulling back the knights. The ranks were greatly depleted from the hundreds of warriors who had started the battle, he thought sadly. Knowing the all-out battle was set, the ambulatory injured had left the makeshift hospital and volunteered for duty on the walls or offered to join the strike force. Kevan had taken on as many as he could to fill the ranks, posting most on the castle walls to replace those who would follow him and O'Neill through the gateway.

The chosen men donned their full armor, leading their horses, forming a long line behind O'Neill. The Silver Knight led Eagle through the Knights Hall, down the corridor, through the narrow doorway, the great warhorse dipping his head to enter. Stepping carefully down the stairs to the wine cellar, striding between the giant wooden barrels full of the strong spirits, then through the passageway and down the second long flight of stairs, they began to gather in the great cavern until it was full to overflowing.

They were eerily silent, even the horses seeming to catch the nervousness of their masters, the men speaking only in muted whispers. Finally, when all were in the cavern, O'Neill walked to the DHD. Removing the glove from his right hand, he touched the four corners of the device, each one beginning to glow, a corresponding light coming to life on the corners of the archway. Finally, he set his hand on the orange center of the pedestal. The familiar kawoosh of plasma roared forth, then settled back, shimmering across the archway.

O'Neill placed a hand on Eagle's bridle, walked up the stairs and stepped into the wormhole.

The familiar seconds of disorientation, and then he was somewhere else, stumbling in the darkness, Eagle snorting his fear but following.

Behind them, each knight tightened his grip on his horse's reins and walked to and through the portal, unerringly following the Silver Knight.

The attack force moved silently through the dark woods with O'Neill and Kevan leading the troops. Their escape from the castle hadn't been discovered, and soon they reached the spot where the troops of aliens and Jaffa were waiting, surrounding the castle's front side. Safely hidden between the trees, O'Neill dismounted and squatted down, crawling forward to the top to once again look over the valley beneath.

He hissed at what he saw. "Damn," he cursed, briefly looking over his shoulder as Kevan joined him.

"What is it, SirColonel?" Kevan asked before he could see for himself.

"Ferretti was right. Damned Goa'uld bastard..." O'Neill muttered.

Among the alien troops, they now could clearly see one man, dressed in blood red clothing, sitting on a reddish brown horse. He appeared to be the leader as he was snapping his orders at the Jaffa and the Jaffa were moving swiftly, relaying those orders to their charges.

O'Neill fastened his field glasses on the figure, studying him. The man wore gaudy, jewel encrusted and gold inlaid armor, a blood red feather plume bobbing above his helmet. His monstrous horse reared as the alien rider jerked harshly on the bit. As he shouted more orders at the Jaffa, O'Neill caught a momentary glimpse of flashing eyes.

"That must be Mister Snakehead himself," cursed O'Neill. "They're building a battering ram. I'd say their plan is to break through the castle doors."

"But they are solid, LordColonel," Kevan objected.

"Solid enough, I'm sure, to keep them busy while we slam the backdoor on them," murmured O'Neill, not convinced that the doors would hold forever. He carefully scanned the enemy camp once more. "They have no idea we're out here, Kevan. Let's go." Crawling back, O'Neill motioned for the Captain to follow and they sat down, discussing their plans one final time.

"Kevan, you take a third of our men, sweep around and attack from that side," O'Neill ordered. "Teal'c, you'll be charging into them from behind. I'll take them from this side and once we've drawn them closer, Ferretti will open the castle doors and come through with the remaining troops. We'll have them surrounded."

The warriors nodded determinedly. The plan was elegantly simple, but efficient and most of all, it should be effective.

"Be sure to keep silent and stay out of sight. They don't expect us to be out here. Remember, surprise is our biggest advantage. We have to make use of it," O'Neill warned. "I'll give you forty minutes to reach your positions, and then we move at dawn, got that?"

"We will be ready, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed.

Kevan was self-assured. "We know the area well, SirColonel. We will not be discovered."

"Good. Take every precaution. Let's do it, people."

Forty minutes later saw the troops in position. At the appointed time, Teal'c opened the battle, his troops charging in from behind the enemy lines, taking them completely by surprise. As the enemy reeled, wheeling to face this new threat, Kevan's troops joined the battle from their right, while O'Neill's squad struck from the left.

Aided by the shock of the sudden attack from unexpected quarters and the arrival of bright daylight, the NightSpirits were caught off-guard, unable to rally as the guard forces rolled into and over them like a tidal wave. The alien creatures, cut off from the gate and reinforcements, fell back into the town, finding themselves now trapped between the castle and the fierce onslaught of the three-pronged human attack force.

The guardsmen focused on the Jaffa, taking them down one by one, leaving the alien creatures leaderless.

Realizing his entire force was in danger, the Goa'uld roared furiously, shouting his orders as the Jaffa ceased their activities on building the battering ram and turned to join in the fight.

As Jack's troop charged into the battle, he saw the Goa'uld draw out a huge dark-metal sword, steering his horse straight through the battling creatures and humans. His direction was unmistakable, he was aiming directly at the one in silver, riding a silver-gray horse, leading the troops from the left side.

O'Neill looked up. His eyes briefly met the alien's glowing ones and, determinedly, the human gripped his sword more tightly in his hand. With his knees, he pushed, steering Eagle back toward the Goa'uld.

The blood red horse and the gray approached each other from opposite sides of the melee. As if everyone suddenly sensed what was going on, creatures, Jaffa, guardsmen and other humans pulled back, making room, making a path for the two leaders to meet.

They rode together, circling warily, warriors assessing the opponent.

Then, with a flash of silver and a hoarse shout, they charged. Swords rang and clashed, the warriors both staggering from the impact but clinging to their saddle as they swept past each other, pulling the reins to spin their horses to turn around and attack again.

The Goa'uld paused, glared at his opponent, then howled and kicked his horse in the ribs.

Jack took in the reaction of the Goa'uld, softly patted his horse on the neck and whispered something into the steed's ear. Eagle jumped forward and the two warriors battled again, sword striking against sword, neither of them willing to yield.

After three rounds of charging into each other with neither giving ground, the fourth time when their swords clashed, they stayed locked together, swinging their weapons repeatedly, the ringing of steel against steel drowning out the sounds of the battle still taking place around them.

Blow after blow, they fought until arms were weary and lungs could barely draw air.

O'Neill drew first blood when at last his looping strike sliced through the Goa'uld's clothing, tearing into the snake's leg above the knee. Screaming in rage, Mordred returned the blow, leaving a bleeding gash on the human's arm. They were both well-trained, fighting well and neither appeared to be losing the battle. Attack. Parry. Thrust. Defend. Slash, cut, jab, sword colliding against sword, striking cold steel armor and vulnerable flesh.

The Goa'uld swung his sword again, a lightning blow too fast for O'Neill's answering parry, getting under the human's defense. Jack jerked back but not in time, and he took a solid blow to his ribcage that nearly unseated him. Just in time, he managed to regain his balance, but the snake was pressing his advantage, raining blows against the Colonel's up raised weapon. Suddenly, the Goa'uld's blade flicked low, catching the edge of O’Neill’s sword and it was ripped from his grasp, flying through the air.

Mordred laughed in triumph. "I have you now, little man!"

A loud hissing from the crowd was the response to the Goa'uld's words, afraid as they were for the Silver Knight's welfare. O'Neill didn't react, just steered his horse away from the Goa'uld, ready to turn with his knife already in his hands.

"My Lord!" Kevan's shouting drew his attention and O'Neill briefly looked up just in time to catch the heavy long axe Kevan had thrown to him. In one fluid movement, the Silver Knight swung it into the approaching Goa'uld's path. The axe hit the Goa'uld's torso, burying itself deep into the alien's chest. Mordred screamed as the force of the blow propelled him from the saddle.

Gracelessly, the red clad alien hit the ground, struggling to gain his feet.

Jack didn't hesitate. In one fluid move he was off his horse, sliding to his knees beside Mordred as he drew one of the deadly daggers and thrust it home into Mordred's throat.

The Goa'uld shuddered and collapsed, unmoving.

The remaining creatures howled at the realization that their leader had fallen at the same moment the humans’ thunderous shout of triumph rang across the valley.

The Silver Knight pushed himself to his feet, knowing the battle even now wasn't over. Swaying with exhaustion as he lifted his foot into the stirrup, O'Neill forced himself back into the saddle. Once astride the gray charger, he wheeled Eagle, and rejoined the knights. Kevan let out a great shout of victory, his troops following him and the leaderless enemy's chaos was complete. It was now a matter of pushing their advantage and the guards embraced the opportunity, driving the enemy back, slaying all those bloodthirsty creatures who refused to surrender.

The few surviving alien creatures attempted to withdraw back to and through the Stargate, but only a few dozen of them succeeded. The even fewer remaining Jaffa tried to fall back without putting up a fight, but they were hunted down as well.

The Monschau Guard, flushed with victory, hunted down the last of the creatures, clearing the enemy from their land, then returned to the town, shouting in triumph.

With O'Neill and Kevan leading, the victorious troops rode back toward the castle where the king and the remaining villagers welcomed them as heroes. The people were shouting, cheering, crying, waving. It was like a giant victory parade through the streets, like a tickertape parade just without the tickertape, thought O'Neill, as the grateful residents of Monschau poured out of the confines of the castle to hail the slow procession winding its way up to the castle.

He looked around at the smiling people, and then down around him for his teammates. Teal'c, Carter, Ferretti and the rest of SG-2 were among the warriors, Daniel and Doc standing beside the king and his family, waiting for the victorious army to arrive.

They'd made it, O'Neill thought thankfully. They'd all made it, driven back the aliens, killed another snakehead, and saved these good people.

At last, Eagle's long strides carried them into the castle courtyard and up to the podium. O'Neill dismounted from the warhorse, the mighty animal dropping its chin to nuzzle his hand. The Colonel then stepped away, striding toward the platform and the smiling king.

Jack's steps slowed and he stumbled, feeling suddenly unutterably weary, like his boots were made of lead. For some reason, everything appeared to be happening in slow motion, and the sky seemed to have gone dim. Kevan was in front of him, stopping, turning back with a questioning look. Funny, he could see Kevan's lips moving, but he couldn't hear any sound above the roaring in his ears. Wow. The crowd was really cheering loudly... and then he felt his knees buckle as his vision wavered and darkened and consciousness fled.

The Silver Knight crashed toward the ground.

Kevan cried out, reaching out to O'Neill, grabbing the collapsing Silver Knight mere seconds before he hit the ground.

The cheering crowd gasped as one, and went silent.

The king, despite his age, raced down the steps toward O'Neill, Dr. Fraiser and Daniel Jackson on his heels.

"Colonel?" Janet was immediately kneeling beside Kevan, staring in dismay at O'Neill's crumpled form. "Colonel O'Neill? Can you hear me?"

He didn't answer. Doc was just reaching for her stethoscope when Kevan, who was supporting the Colonel against one knee, pulled his hand away from O'Neill's side. It was red with blood.

"We didn't know." Kevan's face was lined with worry. "He did not say he was injured. It must have happened when he fought Mordred." Kevan looked apologetically at the king. "We did not know."

Fraiser pushed the stethoscope against the Colonel's chest, listening intently. Her sure hands felt for the pulse at his neck. "We need to get him to the hospital. Now!" she ordered.

Kevan, Luka, Teal'c and Ferretti quickly lifted the wounded man and gently carried him into the castle.

The jubilant spirits of the crowd vanished as they stood, whispering to one another, wondering if the Silver Knight had sacrificed himself for them.

Once in Fraiser's makeshift hospital, O'Neill's armor and clothing were quickly removed, revealing a nasty, bleeding gash across his side.

"Janet?" Daniel asked, worried. "Shouldn't we take him home?"

She was already busily scrubbing her hands, readying the antiseptic they'd made from local alcohol mixed with a native herb, frantically trying to decide how much she could do for him here under these primitive conditions. She had to stabilize him before she could even think of taking him back through the gate for more intensive medical care. "I have to get this bleeding stopped now, Daniel. There's no time. He won't make it to the gate." Even as she spoke, she was already packing the wound with bandages, using pressure to try to slow the bleeding. She had to go ahead and suture the wound now and hope she had the luxury of worrying about a possible infection later. If he was still alive.

Four worried people were waiting outside Castle Monschau's primitive hospital, with Daniel quickly filling in Carter, Teal'c and Ferretti.

"He just collapsed, Sam," the linguist said, his brows lifted in a deep frown. "It was a nasty, deep puncture wound in his side, as far as I could see."

Sam took in the worried looks exchanged between Ferretti and Teal'c, knowing they had witnessed the fight. "What happened out there, Sir?" she asked Ferretti.

"He killed the Goa'uld," Ferretti shrugged.

"What?" demanded Carter in surprise.

"O'Neill battled the Goa'uld in one-on-one combat," Teal'c explained. "They rained blows on each other for many minutes before the Goa'uld succeeded in dislodging the sword from O'Neill's hand. It was Kevan who came to his aid by throwing an axe to O'Neill. He caught it and struck the Goa'uld an unexpected blow. Mordred was mortally wounded and his forces were then easily defeated."

Carter's mouth fell open. "The Colonel fought a Goa'uld with a sword and an axe? Holy Hannah..."

"And the aliens lost their leader," concluded Daniel, nodding in understanding.

"Once the snake was dead, the invading force fell apart, everyone scrambling to save himself, or it-self," Ferretti added. "It's been just a matter of driving them back since then. Those creatures are pretty much helpless, without someone telling them what to do."

"So the Colonel was hurt during his battle with the Goa'uld, then kept right on, helping with the mop up," Carter assumed. "He must have lost a lot of blood..."

"He has," a soft voice startled them. The group had been so occupied by their conversation that they hadn't heard Dr. Fraiser approaching them.

"Janet!" Sam exclaimed.

"Doctor Fraiser," Teal'c intoned with a nod.

"Doc? How is he?" Ferretti asked, eager for details on O'Neill's condition.

Janet tiredly raised her hands in the air. "As I said, he lost a lot of blood. I've got nothing left to replace it... Major," she addressed Ferretti. "Your blood type matches that of Colonel O'Neill. Can you please come with me?"

Ferretti jumped in her direction. "Of course, Doc."

Sam stared at Fraiser in surprise. "Janet, isn't a direct transfusion pretty risky? I don't know a lot about it but..."

"I don't have a choice," Janet answered grimly, "unless I just let the Colonel bleed to death."

Even more worried now, the other SG teammates watched as the pair rushed back toward the Colonel's room, wishing that there was something they could do, too.

An hour later an exhausted Dr. Fraiser emerged from O'Neill's room for the second time. The remaining members of SG-1 looked expectantly at her, searching her face, hoping to find some good news there before she spoke up.

"We've got him stabilized. The transfusion helped. I wish I had more blood to give him but Ferretti has donated more than he should already. The sword made a deep puncture wound in his right side. I've managed to stop the bleeding and got the wound closed. I think there's some damage to one of his ribs but without the proper equipment, I can't be sure, and at this point, frankly, that's not a major concern. He did tear out all the stitches from the old injury on his arm and I had to re-suture that.

"His condition is complicated by his overall poor condition. He's clearly suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. Worst of all, I still have no idea what that damn necklace is doing to his system or how we're going to get it off of him. I do think it's contributing to his overall weakness." She shook her head in frustration. "I've got no saline left, no pain medication either, everything was used treating all the injured. He really, really needs fluids."

Carter stepped forward. "I'll sit with him and try to get some water into him. Is he awake?"

"No. As I predicted, once he crashed, he crashed hard. I don't expect him to wake up for hours. But anything you can do to help, Sam, would be appreciated. My 'staff' is already stretched pretty thin, here, with all these wounded." The doctor nodded at the blonde Major, who was already heading toward where the Colonel was resting.

"Why can't we take him home?" Daniel wondered.

Fraiser shook her head. "Not yet. I can't risk it. This was makeshift surgery, and jostling him around to transport him all the way back to the gate could cause the bleeding to start again. He needs to rest, heal, and regain some strength first. As soon as possible, though, we're absolutely out of here."

"Dr. Fraiser, I could return to the SGC and fetch additional supplies," offered Teal'c.

"I heard Kevan tell the king it's still dangerous out there, roving bands of the creatures are still roaming through the forest," Daniel warned. "The locals are taking care of things but it will be a while before it's safe to attempt a return to the gate."

"It's not necessary to take such a risk, anyway, Teal'c." Doc nodded at the Jaffa. "Under those conditions, it would take you too long to make the trip. We'll be on our way home before you'd get back. If the Colonel continues to hold his own, I expect we can leave first thing in the morning."

"I will see to transportation then," Teal'c stated, turned and left.

"Daniel," Fraiser now said to the last waiting person. "A troop of guards is going to escort Penda, the local healer out to the woods to pick some fresh herbs. According to what I've heard and seen over the last week the herbs have both sterilizing and numbing effects. Maybe you can accompany him and bring some samples back? The Colonel really needs it. And we'll want to take some along home with us, too." She managed a weary smile.

The archaeologist nodded and left to search out the Monschau healer.

Fraiser turned and walked back to the Colonel's room. She found Carter sitting next to the sleeping form of O'Neill. She was slowly squeezing a small cloth soaked with water above the injured man's face, allowing drops of liquid to roll into the parched mouth. On the adjacent rude bed, Major Ferretti was resting, allowing his body to rebuild the amount of donated blood.

"Is he taking the water?" Fraiser asked softly, lifting the Colonel's wrist to take his pulse.

"Yes, little bits at the time. Is he going to pull through? He looks so pale, Janet," Carter asked worriedly.

Janet sponged the injured man's face and neck, then looked up to meet Sam's glance. "I think so. He's tough. He has survived worse than this. And we all know he never gives up."

Carter bit her lip while nodding, never stopping the continuous dripping of water, carefully watching if her Commanding Officer swallowed the much needed fluid.

The festivities in and around the castle went on, although the crowd was somewhat subdued by the knowledge of the injuries to the Silver Knight. Many of the villagers had witnessed his collapse in front of the king.

People were already moving out of the castle and back into the city of Monschau, surveying the damage, cleaning up the streets, removing the barriers and collecting the dead bodies of alien creatures and fallen comrades alike. The guards had set up an interment site far outside the city where they buried the Jaffa in a mass grave. The remains of Mordred's misshapen creatures were unceremoniously stacked and burned to prevent disease. The bodies of the fallen knights and other native warriors were gathered inside the church where women prepared the bodies for their final honorable memorial and priests prepared for the burial ceremonies in the church's cemetery.

Once the city was cleared of all visible proof of the ferocious battle that had been waged there, and declared safe, the women and children were being helped back to their homes. Kevan led a troop of volunteers who continued to sweep the surrounding the forests, valleys and fields for any remaining enemy stragglers.

It would take the exhausted people of Monschau many weeks to completely finish the huge task of clearing the area and repairing all the damage done to the houses, bridges and castle walls, but they were determined to rebuild, buoyed by their victory and the knowledge that they were finally free of their fears.

The only downside was mourning for their fallen comrades and fearing for the health of their leader.

It was already late that afternoon when Kevan and his weary troop of guards returned at last to the castle, having decided to call it a day and allow his men a proper rest.

The guard Captain needed to check on his leader, to see how the Silver Knight was doing, to see if he could do anything to help. Tiredly, he dismounted from his horse and led it into the stables.

Looking around he was shocked to see that Eagle, the Silver Knight's powerful horse, was missing. Grabbing the shoulder of the first stable boy he came across, he turned the lad around. "Where is Eagle?" he demanded, worry evident in his voice.

The stable boy stammered, "We don't know, Sir. Honestly. The Silver Knight's horse was here all morning, and then suddenly he was gone. No one saw anything. He just vanished."

"What do you mean, vanished? How can you just lose a six foot tall warhorse?" Kevan barked.

"We have searched the area, Sir Kevan... Eagle just disappeared...'tis the truth, Captain," the stable boy murmured.

Kevan frowned, and then hurried toward the castle's hospital, fearing the worst. He knew the horse came to life with the arrival of the knight. He didn't know what would become of the mighty horse if the Silver Knight died, and he was suddenly terribly afraid he was about to find out.

Relief overwhelmed the guard Captain when he reached the hospital and found his leader still alive, although looking awfully pale and weak, still profoundly unconscious, and tucked under a stack of warm blankets.

Carter was once again back at her bedside post beside the Colonel. She'd taken a brief rest with Ferretti filling her place for a few hours that afternoon. The Major looked up in surprise at the visitor. "What's up, Kevan?" she asked the warrior approaching her.

"Nothing," stumbled Kevan, taking in the sleeping man in front of him. "I was afraid he might have... How is he?"

"Holding his own," said Carter, meanwhile wiping a cool cloth across O'Neill's face. "He's lost a lot of blood, but we've been able to replace some of that. Your healer has treated his wounds with a mixture of herbs to fight infection. We need to take him home, though. He needs more medical care than the doctor can provide here."

Kevan sighed. "Eagle was missing. I was afraid..."

"That the Colonel had died?" Carter understood. "Well, he hasn't. But how could his horse be missing?"

"Have you checked the Knights Hall?" Carter and Kevan looked up at the third voice interrupting them. It was the king arriving to check on the Silver Knight's condition.

"The Knights Hall?" Carter asked in surprise. "Do you mean the statue?"

"Of course," Kevan said, his face lightening up. "His task is fulfilled. It makes sense!" He sighed in relief. "Good Lord, I thought we'd lost the Knight's horse..."

At that moment Daniel Jackson came running in, excitement shining through in his blue eyes. "Guess what I've just have found?"

"The horse is back in the Knights Hall, once again a statue on the platform," Carter said, smiling at his enthusiasm.

He was startled by her reaction, disappointed they already knew his big news. "Yes! How did you know?"

"Eagle was missing from the stables," Kevan explained quickly.

Daniel's voice was still filled with excitement. "Not only is the 'horse' back, there's another inscription, with a poem, on the platform." The archaeologist pulled a notebook from his pocket and read from his scribbled notes. "It says:

Daniel shook his head in frustration. "I still haven't figured out how the inscriptions change."

Alwin grinned. "It is the power of the legend."

"What happens next?" Jackson asked.

The king smiled, not surprised but still pleased at the question. "Now there is but one more task to fulfill and then the Silver Knight can rest, too." Alwin turned to leave, ignoring the puzzled frowns the people of Earth were throwing at him. "You will see. The last part of the legend will be fulfilled." The king nodded down at the injured Colonel. "He truly is *the* Silver Knight."

That night, the team shared one final meal among their new friends, celebrating the victory with the Monschau Guard's first rank of knights, the king and his family.

Janet remained at her post with the injured, and sat down next to O'Neill who had finally begun to show signs of awakening. He was tossing and twisting restlessly, patches of sweat appearing on his shirt, and he didn't settle under her touch like he normally did.

Placing a comforting hand on his arm, she started talking softly to him, hoping that would help. "Easy, Colonel. It's okay. You're going to be fine. We'll take you back home tomorrow morning. Just relax and try to rest, Sir."

He fought to open his eyes and sluggishly blinked at her.

"Colonel O'Neill? It's okay, Sir. It's Dr. Fraiser," she tried to calm him, gently rubbing his arm.

Without acknowledging her existence he struggled to sit up, brushing the blankets away.

"No, Sir. Stay down. The battle is won, all of your team is fine. You've been hurt, you need to rest," she warned, moving her hand from his arm to his shoulder to push him back on the bed.

He was stronger, though. He absentmindedly pushed her arm away, unwilling to give up and managed to sit up, swaying dangerously.

Janet jumped up, grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him. "Please, Colonel. Lie down. You're not strong enough to be up yet," she urged.

He did not listen. Without looking at her, O'Neill moved, swinging his legs off the bed and standing. His eyes appeared dazed, looking without really seeing, yet he started walking, stumbling dizzily, weak from his injuries and the already growing fever from the wound in his side.

Realizing he wasn't paying attention to her and that alone she wasn't strong enough to stop him, Janet slid her arm around his waist and supported his weak body, wondering what the Colonel was up to. Without giving up, she continuously spoke to him, softly pleading with him to turn around and get back to bed.

He didn't listen to her.

They moved, slowly but steadily, the Colonel leading them. Every time Fraiser tried to redirect him, he became agitated and pulled stubbornly away. She could see he was certain of where he needed to go, so she gave up on the futile task of trying to stop him and instead concentrated on helping to keep the weary Colonel on his feet.

They crossed the inner courtyard, encountering no one as all the people were enjoying their celebration supper. Awkwardly, O'Neill pushed on, stumbling determinedly, straight toward the Knights Hall.

The pair staggered to the middle of the great room, Janet now staring in awe at the statue as for the first time she saw the silver horse, standing tall and fierce, gracefully poised on the platform.

The beauty of the statue took her breath away. "Colonel?" she looked back at her patient who had shook himself free of her support and was now struggling to approach the mighty horse.

"Colonel, what's wrong? What do you need?" she asked.

He didn't answer her. Slowly O'Neill lifted his arms above his head then moved them backwards to his neck and with one single movement he pulled the glowing silver necklace loose.

Fraiser drew in a shaky, relieved breath. O'Neill was free of the alien device!

Almost too weak to continue, the Colonel leaned against the horse and extended his arm with the now brightly glowing necklace in his hand. Slowly, he slid it around the horse's neck and sighed softly before bonelessly collapsing to the floor.

"Sir!" Janet called out, rushing forward. She dropped to her knees next to the fallen warrior and frantically felt for a pulse. Relief overwhelmed her as she found one, a bit irregular and fast, but there nonetheless. Next, she turned her attention to his neck, collarbone and chest, astonished to find the skin unbroken, the bones apparently whole, looking as if the alien device had never been there. Her brow furrowed, Fraiser couldn't even find so much as a scratch left as a remainder of the necklace of power that had been firmly embedded into the Colonel's skin, muscles and bones for almost ten days now.

Amazed but concerned she tried to wake him but was unsuccessful. Deciding quickly on a plan of action, the small female doctor sprinted out of the Knights Hall, ran straight toward the royal dining room and threw the doors open.

"Teal'c! I need your assistance," she called out without apologizing for the interruption. Not wasting time waiting for an answer, she turned on her heels and ran back, knowing the Jaffa would follow her immediately.

Not only the Jaffa ran close behind her, but the remaining members of SG-1 along with Lou Ferretti also hurried into the Knights Hall, concern etched on their faces.

Teal'c needed no words but immediately lifted the still form of O'Neill from the cold floor, cradling him gently in his strong arms and heading straight toward the hospital.

Doctor Fraiser quickly informed the others of what had happened.

They all glanced at the necklace, which was now neatly hanging around the horse's neck, little blue sparkles of light shimmering on the Lapis Lazuli stone in the middle.

Daniel reached out and touched it, feeling the slight warmth that still clung to it, but even as he stood there, the light within the stones faded away and the metal cooled.

Janet rushed back and found O'Neill already bundled deep into the warm blankets, the Jaffa standing vigil next to the bed. Her patient was asleep, calm now, completely unaware of the commotion around him. The Colonel didn't stir at all as she checked his vitals once more.

"Well, that was weird," Fraiser sighed, relieved to find her patient still stabilized. He was running a fever from infections on both his side and arm, but under these less than sterile conditions, that was to be expected. Aside from that, she couldn't find any negative side effects from the now removed necklace and that was one less worry. "We need to keep the infection under control and keep the fever from rising any further tonight, then we'll be taking you home first thing in the morning, Sir," she told him.

The king, Kevan and an honor guard of knights were waiting for their departure early in the morning. Four volunteers stood beside the king's carriage, several of the village women having turned the inside into a comfortable bed stuffed with soft cushions and packed with warm blankets.

Teal'c carefully carried his CO from the hospital bed to the carriage and placed him gently inside, confident that O'Neill would be comfortable during the trip back to the Stargate.

Silently the people of Monschau watched, praying for the well-being of this man, their Silver Knight, the hero who had saved them.

King Alwin and Kevan shook hands with SG-1, SG-2 and the little healer from Earth.

"Our gratitude is immense, our words of thanks are but idle mutterings compared to what you, our dear friends, have done for us," proclaimed Alwin, his voice filled with emotion. "The people of Monschau are forever grateful, and will sing your praises." The crowd roared its approval, and cheered. "Please, warriors of Earth, know that if there is ever a time O'Neill or the people of his world would desire our assistance, we would be honored to answer the Silver Knight's call, without question. So we pledge our honor and our friendship to the Tau'ri, forever. "

Daniel stepped forward, speaking for the rest. "Thank you, King Alwin. We are honored to have helped you and to call you and all your people our friends. Trade between our worlds will help make both Earth and Monschau strong."

The king nodded into the direction of the carrier. "Now, please, take the Silver Knight home and keep him safe. He is a good man and we are forever in his debt. He has changed history for good and saved our whole people. When he has recovered from his wounds, we ask that you honor us by returning to share a feast of victory with our most honored guests." The king searched the female doctor's eyes. "A victory feast, without being interrupted this time," he smiled at her.

"We would be most happy to return," accepted Daniel with a slight bow. "We'll see you within a couple of weeks, then."

With the final goodbyes said, the small group and the honor guard left the castle, wending their way through the winding streets of Monschau, across the secluded valley and into the once again peaceful forest, heading back to the Stargate.

At the Stargate, Kevan led the knights of the Monschau Guard to stand as honor guards beside the great gate, each man holding his sword aloft in salute as the Silver Knight was carried into the wormhole by his friends.

Jack slowly opened his eyes. Searching his memory, he tried to recall where he was and what had happened, but his tired brain cells weren't being very cooperative. Vaguely, he thought he recognized the infirmary and just before the velvet darkness claimed him his last thought was to question what he'd done now.

The next time O'Neill surfaced he managed to keep his eyes open a little bit longer, though they still stubbornly refused to focus. His mind was as fuzzy as his vision, and he knew he ought to recognize the voice he heard but he couldn't figure out who it belonged to. Soft, gentle hands touched him, probing him in the abdomen. A fresh cold cloth touched his face as he twisted, turning in the direction of the welcome relief. He was hot. So hot. And so damn tired...

"Colonel?"

Jack turned his head towards the voice, realizing he'd dozed off again. He tried to open his eyes, but they fell shut again, his eye lids seeming to weigh about a ton or two.

"Come on, Sir. Wake up," the voice insisted.

Why? He was too tired, damnit.

"Sir? Open your eyes. You can do it," the voice was a bit louder now.

In fact, sounded like someone yelling in his ear, making his head pound painfully. He groaned and tried to turn away, then suddenly wondered where he was and why. He hadn't slept through his watch now, had he?

He forced his eyes to open, determined to keep them open this time and blinked a couple of times before recognizing the gently smiling face of Dr. Fraiser, who was leaning over him.

"That's it, Colonel," she encouraged him. "Good to know you're still in there. How are you feeling?"

He blinked again then frowned, searching his memory, unable to find anything that could explain why he was in the infirmary once more feeling like he'd run the Boston marathon, twice, carrying a full 45 lb. field pack. Make that two field packs. Or four.

"Crap," he cracked, shocked at the weakness of his voice. He tried to lift his arm to rub his aching forehead, only to discover the appendage was heavily wrapped in bandages, pain flaring through the injured limb. Using the other arm, hooked to IV-lines that were just long enough to allow him the movement, he managed to press the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Okay," he croaked hoarsely. "What happened?"

Fraiser grabbed a glass of water, put a straw in it and slid one arm under the Colonel's neck to lift him a bit so he could sip. "Long story, Sir. Everybody is all right, though."

"Good," he mumbled then sank back into the soft pillows. "I think I'll finish my nap, then..." With that he lost another battle against the exhaustion that had a firm grip on him, dragging him back to peaceful nothingness.

Every time he came back to the land of the living, Jack managed to stay awake a bit longer. By the fourth day Janet arrived to find him sitting up in bed, propped up by half a dozen pillows, still looking pale, but lucid and alert for the first time since they had returned through the gate. Daniel was sleeping in the chair next to the bed, the archaeologist's head leaning forward on his arm, his arms resting on the bed. Teal'c and Sam were having a simple breakfast in similar chairs at the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, Colonel," Doc greeted O'Neill with a smile. "You're looking much better today. How do you feel?"

"Not too bad," he answered truthfully. "Aside from a huge hole in my memory..." Jack nodded in the direction of his team. "They told me what has happened, but... I've got no recollection of it what so-ever, and frankly, it's all a bit difficult to believe."

Janet approached the bed to run a quick vitals check. "That's okay, Sir. Don't worry about it. We've run all possible tests and there's no trace of any damage done by that necklace. You're all clear. Now," she lifted the bandage on his side to inspect the wound underneath. "Your fever has come down, the infection is clearing and you seem to be healing nicely. How about starting some physical therapy today? I don't intend to keep you here any longer than I have to."

Jack looked stunned. "Well, that's a surprise, Doc."

She glared.

He added, quickly, "But a nice surprise."

Sam giggled. Daniel awakened to the sound of laughter. "What?"

"Morning, Daniel. Slept well?" Jack asked sincerely.

"Jack! You're awake!"

"Nothing gets past the boy genius..." Jack sighed and grinned.

Janet smiled at hearing the return of the usual bantering among the team. "I'll leave you guys picking on each other. I've got work to do. Colonel, I'll send someone by later this morning to get your rehab started. Make sure to get plenty of rest, though."

Three weeks later, SG-1 stepped through the Stargate, arriving on the familiar planet once more.

"Which way to King Arthur's Court, Carter?" Jack asked, smoothing his baseball cap on his head.

"It's King Alwin's Court, actually, Sir," she smiled, "and it's that way," Sam pointed.

They hiked through the forest, crossed the valley and approached the city of Monschau. Jack jerked to a halt, lifting his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to peek underneath them at the incredible scenery in front of him. "Wow. Looks like some old German town," he said. "Cool castle. Wonder if they sell timeshares?"

"You don't recognize this place?" Daniel asked in surprise.

"Nope. Doesn't ring any bells," Jack said. "So this is... "

"Monschau. Oh, yes. We fought the alien creatures and Jaffa in the valley, and the town, for many days," Teal'c confirmed. Pointing to a spot on the far side of the valley, he added, "And it was there you slew the Goa'uld, Mordred."

Jack looked around him, disconcerted by his inability to remember. He searched vainly for anything familiar, trying to match what he saw with whatever memories he knew lay hidden somewhere deep in his mind. Finally, unsuccessful, he gave up and motioned Carter to lead on.

"The Knight! The Silver Knight has returned!" The shout echoed through the town, preceding them as they climbed the path to the castle, Sam leading slowly to be sure the walk didn't overtax O'Neill. Sure, the Colonel *said* he was feeling fine, but he'd been severely injured, nearly died, and he was still recuperating. Janet, in fact, had charged her with seeing to it that the Colonel didn't overdo things.

The cheering continued, spreading from shop to shop, house to house, street to street, up the hill toward the castle. A shouting cheering throng was soon following them through the small streets of Monschau.

"Friendly folks," said O'Neill dryly, looking around. As he walked, he noted the strategic advantages and disadvantages of the setting, seeing how the river ran through town, a natural barrier splitting it in two. Some of the bridges were collapsed, many of the buildings showed large cracks and other damage, and in one area the paving stones of the winding street were badly warped and heaved. He wondered what had happened here. Again, nothing came to him.

A smiling Kevan suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Milord Colonel!" he saluted, greeting his former leader, eyes shining with joy. "We are honored to have you among us again. When you left, we feared for your life."

O'Neill stared at the man in front of him, searching for something he could recognize, and then helplessly shrugged.

"O'Neill doesn't remember anything," Daniel quickly informed the leader of the Monschau Guard.

Kevan frowned. "Oh. Well, it does not matter." He waved a hand around at the guard who accompanied him. "We remember, and that is what is important. Please, let us escort you to the castle."

The group silently approached the huge structure of Monschau's castle, once again overwhelmed by the fortress's imposing beauty.

Carter smiled. "It's such a beautiful place," she said.

Kevan looked proud. "And it will be. Forever. Now that the NightSpirits are defeated."

They crossed the draw bridge. The four guards before and on the bridge saluted the visitors before bowing gracefully at the gray haired man.

It made O'Neill feel very uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to know him, and he knew no one.

King Alwin was waiting, a courier having alerted him to the arrival of the Silver Knight and his men.

"Welcome, Protector! I am pleased to see you have fully recovered from your wounds," the king greeted them, bowing slightly to O'Neill.

"Yes, well. Thanks. King... Alwin," Jack hesitated, not knowing what to say or how to behave in front of a king.

After exchanging the usual greetings, the king led them straight to the Knights Hall. "Come," he said. "Before Kevan shows you to your quarters, there is something I must show you."

They all stepped inside the cavernous chamber, immediately seeing the full statue of the Silver Knight, once again high on its platform. The Knight's dented, battle worn armor had been replaced now with a ceremonial garment of silver cloth, finely woven in intricate patterns. Daniel pushed forward to study the embroidery, noting a pattern of rings that looked suspiciously like a Stargate, another design that looked identical to the silver eagles that denoted the rank of Colonel in the United States Air Force, ones he'd seen often on O'Neill's shoulders. The intricate stitch work showed hideous gargoyles, mighty swords, knights in battle, and at their center, a knight with a silver crown standing victorious over his foe.

The mighty silver-gray horse also had shed his battle armor, and now wore a ceremonial saddle cloth of shining black shot through with silver threads.

The necklace of power no longer hung around Eagle's neck. Instead, it now rested upon the chest of the warrior who sat astride the horse. Daniel stepped to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the warrior's face. Where before, the first time they'd seen the statue, the face had been obscured by the knight's visor, now the figure's face was shadowed by the oversized hood that was attached to the brightly embroidered, flowing robe the Silver Knight wore.

"You changed this?" Daniel asked, turning to Alwin.

"We did not. We simply let what was to happen, happen," he answered cryptically, a small smile on his face. "And the prophecy has been fulfilled," the king added, pointing once again to the horse.

Underneath the horse's raised left foreleg was a black marble plaque, etched with graceful silver lettering.

Daniel knelt and read aloud:

"That's it, isn't it?" Carter asked, breaking the silence. "The end of the legend..."

King Alwin smiled at her. "A legend never ends, my dear. That's why it is a legend. I do think the storyline stays this time, however."

Daniel's face lit up. "This is amazing. Eagle's wings... of course! Look at your insignia, Jack!"

Jack raised his brows. "Yes? So? What?"

"The horse's name. Eagle. Colonel..." Daniel rambled. "It all makes sense. Just one of four, that would mean us, SG-1."

Carter looked doubtful.

"It is possible," stated Teal'c.

The king just smiled.

"Well, whatever it means, it sucks," commented Jack.

Everybody turned to face him, surprised.

"What, Sir?" Carter asked.

"Why?" came Daniel's question.

The silver haired Colonel nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "Ever since I was a kid I dreamed about being a knight, and all. You know, Ivanhoe, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table kind of thing. Riding horses, carrying swords, battling the bad guys... Finally, my dreams come true. I'm the hero of a whole planet and I *don't* remember a thing."

>>> THE END <<<