Co-written with BadgerGater.
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions; all the powers that be, not me; This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement intended. The story is the property of the author and may not be posted without the author's consent.
SPOILERS: Minor ones to Brief Candle, Demons, New Ground, Thor's Hammer. Maybe more, we don't remember.
AUTHORS'S NOTES: The setting for this fic is based on a real village in western Germany.
With special thanks to our research assistant and tour guide, Raoul. "And we're schlossing."
Also thanks to our hardworking and diligent betas, Sandra and Tanya: we agree, they're the best!
Last, special thanks to Lesley, for providing the additional pics. It makes the story look great!!! Thanks.

This story received a honorable mention at the Abydos Gate Jack contest. Thanks, for nominating and voting, it is much appreciated. (feb 2004).

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Halfway across the galaxy from the star known as Sol, the Stargate in a secluded valley surrounded by hills big enough to be considered mountains kawooshed into life and four figures emerged.
A tall, lean man stepped through first, his brown eyes darting left and right, assessing and searching warily for danger.
Behind him, a second man, less heavily armed, floppy hat shading blue eyes, stared around in wonder.
The third figure was a woman, blonde hair tucked beneath her cap, eyes first seeking out the image of the leader, then swinging left and right to take in the details of the landscape around her.
Finally, striding through unruffled but alert, the remaining traveler was a broad shouldered, strong framed, dark skinned man carrying a staff as he strode purposefully to the side of the team leader.

"All here, Sir."
"Thanks, Carter," Colonel Jack O'Neill smiled. "So, Major, which way to the wizard?"
"The UAV showed signs of human habitation that way, Sir, over that hill and through those trees," she said, pointing ahead.
"Trees," O'Neill mumbled to no one in particular as he started walking on his team's six. "Always trees. Why couldn't we get something different for once, huh?"
"And what is it you would wish for in place of trees, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c solemnly.
"I don't know, Teal'c. Something different. Unusual." He waved a hand in the air. "Something not trees."
"I see."
"No, you don't," muttered the Colonel under his breath with a grin. He marched forward, pulling closer to the team's archaeologist. "So, Daniel, what do we know about these people?"
"The UAV didn't spot many people, Sir," Carter started.
"But lots of buildings," interjected Daniel. "They appeared to be of a primitive construction, wood and stone buildings, narrow cobblestone streets, similar to what we would see in construction from the Middle Ages."
"Not those Dark Ages again, huh?" asked Jack with a shiver, recalling that planet they'd visited not so long ago, with its no-win water-test that was nearly fatal to Teal'c. Then there'd been that damned thing about drilling a hole in that poor girl's head.
"Sort of. Hard to tell until we get a better look." Daniel was striding forward eagerly. "There were also some interesting looking symbols above the doorways of the buildings."
Jack nodded. "Signs? Like Barbershop? Groceries? Tavern?"
"Could be. But they could also be warders against evil," Daniel suggested.
"Any *sign* of evil? Guns, staff weapons?"
""No, Sir," Carter answered. "Swords and bows and arrows did appear to be on some of the designs we spotted."
"But no guns, grenades, bazookas, zats or staff weapons?" O'Neill persisted.
"None, Sir."
"Well that's a good thing." O'Neill sighed with relief. "Transport?"
"Horses."
The Colonel's eyes lit up. "Horses? As in John Wayne?"
"No, Sir, more like King Arthur."
"Oh, yeah, those Knights of the Round Tablet guys," O'Neill smirked.
Carter grinned.

Two hours later, O'Neill was lying flat on the ground on the hill top, studying the scene below through his binoculars. "So, knights, swords, bows and arrows. Looks pretty primitive," he confirmed as he handed the field glasses to Carter.
"We should never judge a culture too quickly, Jack," Daniel reminded.
"Yeah, right." Jack looked around at the quiet hillside, covered with immense, ancient looking trees. Something about it was making him suddenly uncomfortable, as if they were being watched. Slowly, he let his eyes drift across the landscape, studying each patch of shadow, checking each clump of rocks and cluster of trees. Nothing moved. Birds, or something like birds, sang in the trees and flitted across the open meadow. Peaceful, it *seemed* really peaceful, but there was something... a chill, like a cold wind playing across his face. He raised his eyes to meet Teal'c's glance, and realized from the slight lines around the Jaffa's eyes that the big man felt the same.
Something was not right in this little paradise.
"Heads up, people," Jack whispered. "There's something..."
Suddenly, bursting from the trees around them, dozens of armed humans appeared and surrounded them, aiming their bows and arrows directly at the four strangers.
"Yup, that's something," muttered O'Neil, carefully climbing to his feet while raising his hands in the air.
The natives quickly surrounded SG-1, prodding them with the tips of long bows, the kind, thought the Colonel, that reminded him of Robin Hood except these guys didn't seem to be the Merry Men. They had very serious expressions on their faces; very serious, very suspicious expressions.
O'Neill turned to the team's linguist. "Ah, Daniel, speak up. Time for your little spiel."
Jackson flashed his friendliest smile at the men who surrounded them. "Hi. We're peaceful travelers from Earth."
"And who is this Earth? What Goa'uld is that?" asked one of the natives, stepping forward.
"You know of the Goa'uld?" Daniel asked, surprised. "Earth is not a Goa'uld, it's a place, the place where we're from, and the Goa'uld are our enemies."
"So you say. And you are?" asked the man suspiciously.
"I'm Daniel Jackson, she's Major Carter, he's Teal'c, and Colonel Jack O'Neill, over there, is our leader."
"Fearless leader, that's me," smirked the Colonel with a small wave at the staring group in front of them.
The man shot an appraising look at O'Neill.
Jack smiled. "Hello," he added.
The native leader strode over to stand in front of O'Neill, looking the stranger up and down carefully, noting the odd dress and the odd equipment he carried, weapons, he assumed. "What do you want?" asked the man, coming directly to the point.
"Well, first, your name would be nice," said the Colonel, pointedly.
The man glared at him. "I am Kevan, leader of the Monschau Guard."
"And just what is it you guard against?" Jack followed up.
"Strangers. Foreigners. Those who talk too much."
"Well, we know we're strangers now, but we'd like to become friends. We're really very friendly," said Daniel still trying to talk nicely to the men who had them surrounded. "We have only peaceful intentions."
The guard leader turned to stare at Jackson. "We've heard such talk before," said Kevan, receiving nods of agreement from his men. "Why are you here?"
"We seek to form alliances with those who, like us, oppose the Goa'uld."
Jack had been quietly assessing this group, and he was impressed with what he was seeing. They were observant, guarded, serious, and professional. When he simply shifted his weight from one foot to another, a dozen eyes followed his movements, glaring suspiciously. So, okay, this bunch was alert and ready for trouble. Which meant there had been trouble, and it sounded like Goa'uld trouble.
"How do we know you are not Goa'uld yourselves? He is a Jaffa," said Kevan, pointing at Teal'c's impassive face.
"He's a good Jaffa. I know that's a contradiction in terms, but it's true," Jack answered. "He's left the service of the Goa'uld, and travels with us."
"Trickery, Captain," muttered one of the men holding a weapon.
Kevan stalked over to once again look O'Neill in the eye. The Colonel did not miss the breadth of the man's shoulders, the corded muscles in the arms, the strong hands and the catlike grace with which he walked. This man was a warrior, a fighter, Jack sensed immediately. The native looked the SG-1 leader over, from head to foot, a sneer curling his lip. "I think you are pawns of the false gods and their minions. Bind them and bring them."
Before he could stop them, strong hands grasped O'Neill's arms, pinning them behind him while something was quickly wrapped around his wrists. As Jack struggled vainly, he saw the same thing happening to his team. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.
"Look, we're here as friends!" insisted Daniel.
"My Lord Alwin will decide if you are friend or foe," said Kevan, snapping his fingers. His men obeyed, prodding the captives forward with the tip of their swords.

Under other circumstances, SG-1 might have considered the planet a beautiful one. They marched over a nearby hill and down a long, steep slope. Once at the bottom of the valley, they emerged onto a well-traveled road, passing beneath a string of guard towers that watched over the approaches to the second valley. There, along a twisting stretch of river, clustered dozens of sturdy houses. On the hill, high above the town, loomed the impressive walls and towers of a medieval castle that looked like something right off of a movie set.
SG-1 and their captors walked up to the city gate, across the drawbridge that spanned a moat, and inside the city walls. Jack had seen cities that looked a lot like this, old European cities he'd visited during a tour of duty in then West Germany, he recalled.
A crowd was gathered in a large square in the middle of the town. The team was pushed up a set of stairs onto a raised platform that was surrounded by hundreds of villagers. Standing on a second platform several feet above them, a man awaited them, unmistakably the king, dressed in fancy clothes, wearing a thin band of silver around his hair. The king wasn't a young man, although he still looked vigorous and strong, and his keen eyes were appraising the captives brought before him.
The king raised his arm, and the crowd went silent. The ruler walked forward and from his higher vantage point looked down at the four members of SG-1. "Who are you?"
"Peaceful travelers from Earth..." Daniel started.
"Don't bother, Daniel. They don't think so," Jack grimaced.
Jackson shot his team leader a glare. "Well, then you think of something better."
O'Neill turned to the bewildered looking king. "Hi. I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is my team, and we're here to get to know you."
"Why?" the king inquired suspiciously.
"Because we're friendly people," the Colonel shrugged.
"And why should we believe you?"
"Because we're telling the truth."
"And how do I know that?" The king glared at the tall man in front of him, his eyes narrow.
"You don't. You just have to take our word for it."
"Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions, you know that," Jack said, a little irritated this time.
"I am responsible for the safety of my people. There are threats at every hand..."
"Well, we aren't a threat or a danger to your people. We're the good guys."
"I think you are Goa'uld."
Jack shook his head, his patience worn thin. "If we were Goa'uld our eyes would be glowing, you know? And they're not."
"The eyes of the possessed do not always glow."
"They always glow when the Goa'uld are mad. And buster, err, King, tying me up and dragging my team around like a band of criminals makes me mad."
The king stared sharply at the strangers. "I do not know who you are, and I do not think we should trust you. Throw them in the dungeon," he said, waving at Kevan.
The guard leader and his guards stepped forward.
"Hey, wait a minute. We are *not* the bad guys here, and I don't want to visit no damned dungeon, got that?" the Colonel snapped.
Kevan shoved O'Neill angrily. "You will give your respect to the king."
Jack half spun, twisting to look back at the guard commander. "My respect needs to be earned. Not given."
Kevan shoved him again.
Jack slipped awkwardly to his knees, unable to catch himself with his hands tied behind him. The fall jarred his cap loose, the familiar headgear knocked askew.
O'Neill saw Kevan's expression change instantly from one of superiority to sudden and complete shock, and dismay. Slowly, the guard Captain reached down and lifted the cap from the Colonel's head. Sunlight glinted off the silvery gray hair.
With a shocked gasp, the crowd of hundreds went suddenly stone silent. The king's face showed amazement. The guardsmen began murmuring, slowly dropping to their knees, the crowd doing the same, and then, with a look of sheer disbelief, Alwin followed their lead. Slowly he bent his knees, dropping into a kneeling position and bowing his head.
"What the hell?" Jack looked around, stunned, stumbling upright. "Daniel? What's happening?"
"I don't know." The archaeologist's eyes were opened wide, looking around at the crowd in surprise.
"I have never seen such a thing," added Teal'c.
"Hail, Protector!" someone in the crowd shouted, and others began to do the same, chanting the words like the crowd at a football game repeating the name of the hometown hero.
"Hey, you, Kevlar, what's up?" The Colonel addressed the guard commander.
Kevan, on his knees like all the others, was staring at the ground as if afraid to speak. "I am sorry, Milord. I did not recognize you, Blessed One."
"Milord? Blessed One?" repeated O'Neill in surprise.
"Oh, oh. Now we *know* they've got the wrong guy," muttered Daniel.
"Protector of our people, we could not see..." Kevan continued apologetically. The guard leader, still on his knees, nodded at one of his guardsmen who swiftly stepped forward to cut the bonds holding Jack's hands. O'Neill pulled his arms forward, kneading his chafed wrists as other guards swiftly released the rest of the team.
"What couldn't you see?" Jack asked, exasperation evident in his voice.
"Your silver crown was hidden to us, we apologize for not knowing you," said Alwin, lifting his head slowly to throw an embarrassed look in the direction of the startled man.
"Silver crown? What silver crown? I'm just wearing a cap, a plain old everyday American baseball style cap," Jack said as he picked his favorite headgear off the ground.
Carter was staring around them at the king, the guardsmen and the villagers, all of whom had doffed their hats. She saw brown hair and blonde, black and red but... "Sir, it's not your hat, it's your hair. Gray hair, silver hair. I don't see any here. None."
"Right," said Daniel.
"I wear the silver band of leadership of the People," said the king, still on his knees, "but you, you are our Protector, the Silver Knight, the one we have prayed for, waited for, the one who will aid us in this crisis."
"Oh, for crying out loud..." Jack started.
"Jack, wait," Daniel whispered. "Don't throw this opportunity away. Play along a little."
"I'm not their protector," O'Neill hissed back out of the corner of his mouth while still smiling cheekily at the king.
"Well, it did get us untied and I think it's going to keep us out of their dungeon."
O'Neill nodded. "Ah, yeah, yeah, right. Protector it is," Jack whispered. Raising his voice, he asked, "Sooo, King, just what do you know about me? Huh?"
'Way to go, Jack,' Daniel thought.
"Protector, it has been many, many years since you have come to us, to aid in repelling the invaders."
"Invaders?" O'Neill asked, tilting his head.
"The NightSpirits, soon to be unleashed again by the evil Goa'uld," the king explained.
"NightSpirits?"
"Beings of darkness, they come through the ring, lead by the glowing eyed invader, attacking our village, destroying our fields, taking away those they slay, their bodies never to be returned."
"Taken as hosts," Daniel whispered to Jack.
"I *know* that," the Colonel hissed back.
"We have prayed diligently, conducted all of the rituals, but we feared you would not come. The dark days are soon upon us and the creatures will come. We have prepared the catacombs to shelter the women and children, forged weapons and carved bows, trained our young men, done all that we could to prepare, all the while awaiting your arrival."
"Look, King, I'm just a man..." O'Neill started.
"You are the Protector, he who wears the Silver Crown, wise in the ways of war, master of many weapons, fearless leader, the Silver Knight who will lead us to victory."
"Now that's a rather big job," Jack muttered.
"We are awed by your presence, Blessed..."
"Look, just call me Jack. It's easier that way," O'Neill said, uncomfortably. "Now, everyone, just get up off your knees. King, ah, I think we have things to discuss. In private."

King Alwin slowly stood, then motioned for the crowd to rise.
"This is a day of great joy!" he called out over the rising group of men and women, his hands raised high in the air like a priest bestowing the blessings to his prayerful congregation. "Our prayers have been heard and answered! Let us all celebrate. There will be a feast tonight, in honor of the Silver Knight who has come to our aid. Please, come to the great hall tonight to drink a toast to the future, to celebrate our victory!"
The crowd shouted, elated cries of joy thundering through the small town, the sounds echoed by the small, high houses.
Turning from the crowd, King Alwin invited the four teammates from Earth to follow him. With a small wave of his hand, the ruler of Monschau led the way to his carriage which was waiting for him just on the outside of town.
While the king took his place in the carriage, Kevan had gathered four saddled horses, assigning one to each member of SG-1. They all mounted their horses and followed the king up the hill towards the castle. The team stared in fascination as they neared their destination, Jack immediately assessing the defensive possibilities of the massive structure, nodding in appreciation. This was no castle for show, but a well placed, defendable fortress, perched high atop the hillside. The castle was an impressive structure with its huge thick walls, high towers and colossal entryway. Another drawbridge, over the castle's moat, plus thick, solid hardened wooden doors suspended by metal chains were meant to seal the castle off from intruders. Four heavily armed guards on the drawbridge watched over the valley and at least three members of the team made note of the other guards watching from the castle's walls and peering out from behind the archer's loops cut into the castle wall.
"Nice place," Jack commented shortly, never letting his guard down.
The four guards stepped aside to give the group enough room to pass and they saluted crisply towards the vehicle carrying their leader.
The four visitors were stunned by the size of the inner courtyard. They couldn't have guessed by looking at the outside of the castle that the inside was so huge. The stables were located on the right side, just next to the entrance. Four young boys, maybe age twelve or thirteen O'Neill estimated, quickly approached the newcomers, gently taking the horses' reins and waiting patiently for the riders to dismount. With the horses taken care of, Kevan led the humans to the building across the inner court, opposite to the small church that was also present within the castle's walls.
The building was home to elegant quarters for King Alwin and his family: Queen Katerina, and their daughters Larissa and Wilhelmina, plus numerous guest rooms, a huge kitchen, a large ballroom to entertain the guests and, lastly, the Knights Hall, an immense room containing statues dressed in shining armor and carrying shields bearing the symbols comprising family crests.
The servants and guards of the royal family were housed in smaller buildings around the inner court, set against the castle's walls.
Each member of SG-1 was shown to one of the guest rooms, and a personal servant was assigned to go with each of them to provide them with anything they might require. The king had invited them all to that evening's celebration dinner. While waiting for the meal to be prepared, the team wandered around, investigating their surroundings.
Daniel walked through the halls, eyes glazed with excitement, murmuring the single word "wow" over and over again. "Each of these tapestries, they're not only works of art, they also tell a story of a battle. And we passed a library just stuffed with books... My God, there's a lifetime worth of study here!"
"Easy, big guy," Jack soothed mockingly. "Don't hyperventilate on me, okay?"
"It *is* incredible, Sir," Carter said, her eyes shining with excitement over the sheer beauty of the place.
"In this case… I'd love to be the man who would be king," Jack muttered.
Teal'c frowned.
"Never mind," Daniel interrupted. "Did you see the Hall of the Knights? I'd like to go check it out. I could learn a lot there about these people's history and culture."
"Let's go, kids," Jack nodded. "I'd like to see what kind of weapons they use, or used, as well."
They headed for the Knights Hall and entered, slowly, with respect, as if walking through a museum. There were two doors in this room, one closed the other standing wide, and each door was guarded by a pair of statues of armored knights, each carrying a huge lance and ornate shield. The carved figures wore helmets, with the visors closed.
Teal'c stepped in front of the one on his right side, attempting to see through the small holes in the eye-shields, and raised his brows. "I have never seen anything like this, O'Neill," the big man stated. "It does slightly resemble the Serpent Guards' clothing, but it is different."
O'Neill threw another look at the knights, then nodded. "There are some similarities, Teal'c, but these were worn generations ago on Earth by King Arthur, Sir Galahad, Ivanhoe and Lancelot. I kinda like these outfits. The snakes are just … imitations, badly overdressed imitations."
Daniel had wandered off to the left side of the room where he began reading the history of the Royal Family. "Wow," he muttered more to himself than anybody else. "The castle is at least 700 years old." Unconsciously, he stared at the ceiling, briefly wondering whether the roof would come down on him any minute, before continuing reading. "The castle was built by the Monschau family, but only about two decades later it was destroyed by fire. The family rebuilt it, then it was claimed by new rulers, the ancient ancestors of this king, who bought it for a thousand golden coins. The so-called NightSpirits destroyed it three centuries ago, and the people were forced to flee, leaving the area. Returning about fifty years later, they'd again rebuilt the immense structure, aided by drawings from the old days of how the castle had originally looked."
Daniel studied the many drawings displayed on the wall. He could easily recognize the front side of the castle as it looked exactly the same in its current incarnation. He hadn't been able to see it from the other side yet, however, and he tried to visualize the whole building and its environs.
The Colonel's attention was drawn by the weapons that were hanging on the wall opposite Daniel's position. Spears and lances in all sizes bore different kinds of banners, the intricate pattern telling who the weapons had belonged to. The wall was covered with axes and swords, bows and knives, but also larger weapons such as lances, spears and primitive flamethrowers.
Carter, meanwhile, had walked over to the center of the room. Dominating the room was a life-sized figure of a knight and his horse standing on a high platform. The armored warrior was sitting on an equally fierce looking silver-grey horse, its back higher off the ground than Carter was tall, making it some six feet at the withers. The mighty charger stood as if frozen in the act of stepping forward, just two legs bearing its apparent great weight, the right foreleg and left hind leg bent at the knee, raised nearly a foot from the floor. Gleaming silver shoes were visible on the bottoms of its dinner plate sized hooves.
The knight was dressed in shining silver armor, sitting ramrod straight, as if he were overlooking the whole room, guarding it and protecting it. Around his neck he wore a beautiful silver necklace, a series of intertwined, thick, wide, gleaming links with a single small royal blue stone set in its center. In his gauntlet covered hands, the knight held the horse's wide reins made of soft white leather. The horse's back was covered by a blanket of blue and white, interwoven with silver threads, the short fringes adding to the graceful image. Atop the blanket sat a small, high backed saddle of dark leather, carved with detailed patterns of flowers, plants and trees.
Carter was struck by the beauty of the statue and the incredible detail that made it appear so lifelike she all but expected the horse to shake itself and take a step forward. Slowly she walked around the massive creature, her eyes noting every detail, soaking in the atmosphere. She stopped in her pace in front of the horse and her eyes caught a silver sign, exposed under the horse's raised left front foot.
"Hey, guys. Come and take a look at this," she called out.
O'Neill immediately turned around and walked over to her, Teal'c followed shortly, but it took Daniel a little longer to switch his attention from the castle's history to whatever Sam called him to see. The three men each admired the handsome statue, giving it their full attention now instead of just noticing it was there as they'd done upon entering the room.
Carter pointed at the sign. "Read that," she said.
Daniel stepped forward, and read out loud what was engraved in graceful black letters on the silver sign.

~~~~~
Through fields and woods he rides
His grey horse, through the days
Fierce and forceful, brave and strong
Protector of our race
~~~
His armor gleaming oh so bright
Reflecting beams of sun
Our prayers will be heard someday
Eventually he will come
~~~
We hail him and we honor him
This strong and glorious knight
As without him we are nothing
And doomed to lose the fight
~~~
Concern thyself no more, my people
Salvation is finally here
The Silver Knight arrived today
To free us from our fear
~~~~~

"Wow," Daniel added shortly, straightening his back from his bent position.
"Beautiful, huh?" added Sam.
Jack said nothing, but kept staring at the knight on the horse.
Teal'c turned around, noticing that someone was approaching them. It was King Alwin.
"I see that you have found the statue," Monschau's ruler remarked with a proud smile. "This is who we honor, he whom we have prayed for. The Silver Knight…"
Carter turned and looked at him. "It's magnificent."
"It is, isn't it?" the king agreed. "And now our prayers have been heard."
"How is that?" Daniel asked, frowning.
The king pointed at O'Neill, who hadn't turned around, but was still examining the knight in front of him. "He arrived today, just as the verse's appearance proclaims. He *is * the Silver Knight. Whether he knows it or not."
"The verse's appearance?" SG-1's archaeologist inquired.
"The Silver Knight's verse is written under the horse's hoof. Normally, the steed stands on three legs, the verse hidden. But when the Protector is about to appear, the second hoof is suddenly raised."
"Okay, now that doesn't make sense," Daniel frowned. "How? Why...?"
"We do not understand the mysteries of the Protector, of how he knows when to come, or who sends him. The Magic of the ancient times is beyond our limited understanding. We only know that in our time of need, the Silver Knight *will* arrive, and his power, his courage and his warrior's skills will save us from the beings of darkness and their glowing eyed master."
"Who sends the knight? Where does he come from?" Daniel persisted.
"We do not know. We only know that his coming is foretold," the king pointed at the verse written upon the raised fore hoof of the giant horse.
"What's that necklace?" Jack interrupted, without looking back to the others.
"That belongs to you, Blessed One. It is a symbol of the power of what you are, *who * you are and what you will be. You will wear that tonight, to the feast, so my people will know that you've finally come."
Daniel turned around, examining the chain. "That's a very nice necklace. It's made of silver, with a little stone of Lapis Lazuli. Right?"
The king nodded, eyes turning to O'Neill. "It is the 'necklace of great power'. We have watched over it for you, Protector, kept it safe until you returned to us."
"You want me to wear that tonight? What if I don't?" Jack asked, finally turning around to face the king.
Alwin gave him a faint smile. "Oh, but you will. When the time is right, Blessed One, you will know. You cannot deny your destiny." With those words, the ruler of Monschau turned on his heels and walked away.

Dinner was being served in the huge dining room, where a full to overflowing crowd was seated on both sides of the long dinner table, and a scattering of smaller but equally full tables across the room. King Alwin, of course, was seated at the head of the main table, his wife and daughters on his right hand. He specifically asked for O'Neill to take the seat of honor next to him, on the left.
An enormous roasted pig lay exposed on a silver plate with an apple stuffed in its mouth, offered up as the banquet's main course. The tables were covered with loaves of bread, plates of cheeses and bowls of many different kind of fruits as dessert. Mugs of ale and bottles of wine were in abundance on every table.
Preparations for the feast were being made on the inner courtyard, and the dining group could all hear the progress. The atmosphere was one of great excitement.
During their meal, however, Jack had fallen more and more silent, and was unaware of the frowns his teammates were throwing at him. Usually, O'Neill was one to admire a good meal, and normally one to let that be known by talking a lot. The king didn't seem to notice the Colonel's silence, but with the greatest patience kept on answering the multitude of questions Daniel was firing steadily at him.
Ignoring the plate of food and the bowl of fresh fruit in front of him, O'Neill suddenly rose, his meal barely touched, turning away from the others without excusing himself or saying anything.
"Jack? Are you all right?" Daniel asked, concern etched on his face.
"Sir? What's wrong?" Carter added, frowning deeply when the Colonel didn't respond to their questions.
Inexplicably, he turned suddenly to leave the room without acknowledging them.
Teal'c silently rose to his feet. He bowed slightly in the king's direction. "Excuse me, King Alwin. I must accompany ColonelO'Neill, to be assured he is all right."
The king smiled, nodding knowingly. "He doesn't need anyone looking out for him, but certainly, if you wish, you may go with him."
Carter and Daniel exchanged worried frowns.
"I don't like this," Daniel whispered to her.
Carter nodded her head in agreement. She addressed the king. "Sir, permission to..." she started.
The king nodded. "You, too, are excused. There is nothing to be concerned about, though, friends. He *will * save us all from the NightSpirits. He *is * the Silver Knight."
Daniel and Carter rushed out the room, following O'Neill as he strode purposefully towards the Knights Hall.

O'Neill stood in front of the statue once again as if in some sort of trance. Teal'c stood close behind him, watchful, ready to act whenever it was necessary. Carter and Daniel approached silently, watching warily, not knowing what to do.
Jack stretched out one hand, standing on his tiptoes, reaching for the necklace.
"Sir," Carter objected. "What are you doing?"
"Don't worry, Carter, it's what I'm supposed to do," the Colonel answered in a strange, emotionless voice as his fingertips caressed the gleaming silver.
"Jack," Daniel joined in. "Are you sure touching that is wise? Aren't you the one always telling *us* to leave alien artifacts alone?"
"I must have it," Jack said quietly.
"O'Neill. I do not believe you should touch that," Teal'c stepped forward, attempting to prevent his CO from taking the necklace.
"Oh, come on, kids," Jack said, shocking them all as he sounded like his usual self. "It's only a damn necklace. What could possibly happen?"
"Then, Jack, why are you here? Why do you want to have it?" Daniel reasoned.
O'Neill turned around, arching a single eyebrow. "Do I? No, I don't."
"Yes, you did. You left the dinner table and came here to take the necklace. You just told us so."
"Did not."
"Did."
"Did not."
"Yes, you did. Don't you remember?" Daniel was getting really worried now.
"Sir, I think we should leave," Carter started.
"Oh, for crying out loud!" Jack threw his hands in the air. "What is wrong with you? There's nothing here but a room filled with giant sized dolls dressed up as knights from the Middle Ages. *That ,*" he pointed one finger at the Silver Knight's neck, "that is just a silver necklace. I am not these people's protector, or blessed dude or their guardian Silver Knight, no matter *what* color my hair has turned."
He fell silent again, his eyes once more fixed on the shining metal. For a moment, his hands were clenched into fists at his side, his fingers curling and uncurling. Unexpectedly, he grabbed the necklace, the movement so fast that Teal'c was unable to stop him.
"Jack!" Daniel shouted, stunned.
"It's just a necklace, Daniel." Jack simply put it on, his hands reaching back to snap the clasp as he slid it around his neck, demonstrating there was nothing wrong with it. "See?" He arranged it to lie across his shoulders and along his collarbone, the blue stone gleaming at the center of his chest.
There was a long moment of silence as O'Neill glared belligerently at the others.
Carter let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, relieved that nothing had happened. It was just a necklace and she'd just made a fool out of herself over nothing. "I'm sorry, Sir," she apologized. "It's just… this place is giving me the creeps, I think. I have no idea what was wrong with me."
"So am I," Daniel added, embarrassed. "Now, please, take it off and put it back where it belongs, would you?"
Jack grinned at his team's archaeologist. "Gee, now that's got to be a first. Daniel telling me to put something back," he said with a chuckle. Raising his hands to remove the chain, O'Neill reached behind his neck to grasp the necklace. He frowned when the thick silver chain refused to move. He tried again. It didn't budge.
"I can't get it off," he muttered, a sudden look of concern crossing his previously cheerful face.
Teal'c approached. "Please let me assist you, O'Neill." The Jaffa examined the gleaming links of metal, but saw nothing unusual. He tried to lift it off the Colonel's neck, but it would not move.
"Damn," cursed O'Neill, squirming, feeling an odd tingling in his skin where the silver links touched his flesh.
"Sir? Let me see," Carter insisted. She asked him to kneel so she could reach around his neck with more ease and bent closer. She fumbled and fidgeted with the lock, unwilling to admit that she couldn't open it or move it either. No stupid lock was going to stop her. This was just a plain silver chain, not some magical device.
"Err, Carter…" Jack murmured. "Not that I don't think this is nice having you breathing softly in my ear, but…"
"Shit! Stupid necklace. What is wrong with it?" Carter cursed.
In an instant, Jack's face changed, a grimace crossing it, and then he shuddered. Sam leaped backward with a strangled cry as O'Neill's hands flew upward to his neck, toward where the necklace lay across his chest. He moaned as the gleaming silver chain seemed to catch fire, to burn into his skin, and sink into his flesh and bones. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and the Colonel fell to the floor, writhing. For an endless moment, his howl of pain reverberated through the Knights Hall, and then his body went rigid as he let out a bloodcurdling yell, and fell silent.
"Jack!"
"Colonel!"
"O'Neill!"
They all ran to where he lay on the floor, his body gone suddenly eerily quiet and still.
"Sir?" Carter knelt and reached out a hand to touch his neck, with relief found the racing pulse, and saw his chest rising and falling in time with his rapid breaths. "Colonel?"
O'Neill stirred, fingers twitching, then one leg moving restlessly, his head swinging from side to side.
"Jack? Hey, come on," Daniel pleaded.
O'Neill's brown eyes opened slowly, looking unfocussed for a moment before gazing around in surprise. "What's the matter? You guys look worried."
"Sir, you passed out."
"Passed out?"
"Yes, Sir. You put the necklace on and then suddenly you, well, screamed and passed out."
Jack started to sit up.
"I think you should stay still a moment, Sir."
"I'm fine," he answered, ignoring the fact that for a moment he did actually feel rather dizzy, and not fine at all.
"You do not appear to be 'fine,' O'Neill," said Teal'c, pointing at the Colonel's chest.
O'Neill looked down and gasped in unison with the rest of his team. The silver necklace no longer lay atop the material of the green uniform shirt he wore. The shirt was in pieces, cut wherever the silver chain had touched it, the necklace now lying tight against his skin. In sudden horrified realization, Jack's fingers reached out to touch the chain, and tried to lift it. It refused to move. A frantic look crossed his face for a fleeting instant as his fingers dug at the skin of his chest. "It's, it's... Get it off. Get if off!"
Carter's fingers were pulling at the silver links, failing to find a purchase on the slick metal, her eyes growing wider and wider. "Sir, it's, it's embedded in your skin. Like...like it's a part of you."
"Does it hurt?" Daniel asked.
Jack slowly closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, they were shining strangely. "It doesn't hurt, not now, not at all. It feels pleasant, warm, tingling, almost alive...like it was meant to be there."
A triumphant voice from the doorway startled them all. "I told you. That is exactly where the necklace belongs." The king stepped into the room, smiling at the members of SG-1. "Come now. We must get our Knight a proper shirt, and then we have a feast to attend to. The people are waiting."
Jack stood and wordlessly took a staggering step toward the king, then another and another as his team stood watching, stunned. With each step, he seemed to gather strength as he walked toward Alwin.
"Sam, what the hell just happened?" Daniel whispered to Carter as they watched Jack cross the room. He unresistingly removed the remnants of the BDU shirt and replaced it with an ornate embroidered shirt the king handed him.
"I don't know. The necklace didn't seem to be anything but an ordinary silver necklace."
"Naquadah?" Teal'c asked.
"No, no, I felt nothing. It just seemed ordinary, until it was on the Colonel, and then it seemed warm and, and alive." Carter's eyes were huge as she looked around at her teammates. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I, MajorCarter," said Teal'c.
"We need to get him home," Carter added, a worried frown furrowing her forehead as she watched the Colonel now talking calmly with the king.
"I do not think the answer to removing the necklace is back at the SGC. I believe we must find the answer here," Teal'c disagreed.
"We still need to have him checked out by Janet," Carter stated. "Teal'c, I think you should go back to the gate and request medical assistance. You could explain the situation and have Dr. Fraiser bring whatever equipment she feels necessary. Just a second, let me ask the Colonel," with that, the Major walked over to her CO and King Alwin, Daniel following on her heels. "Sir?"
"Yes, Carter?" O'Neill turned to her, seeming normal in every way, except for the calm manner in which he was acting with that alien thing wrapped around his throat.
"Colonel, could we speak in private a moment?"
"Of course," the king bowed slightly toward O'Neill and stepped away.
"What is it, Carter?"
"Sir, you are not acting like yourself, at all. I think that necklace is affecting you somehow..."
"Well, you're wrong. It's not."
"With all due respect, Sir, how do you know that?" Carter demanded.
"Major, I'd know if I was feeling oddly."
"Would you, Sir? You're definitely acting oddly. You are not at all concerned about that thing being embedded in your skin. It's certainly doing something. I'd like you to come home with us so we can have Dr. Fraiser check you over."
"No way, Major. These people are about to be attacked, and they need some military advice and assistance. One of our main goals as a first contact team is to make alliances and forge friendships, right, Daniel? Well, that's what I'm doing. Allying with these people. Help 'em out and they'll be our friends."
"Sir, I'm sorry, Sir, but you are *not* acting like yourself. Please come back with us..." she pleaded.
"Carter, I've already told you no."
"Then will you allow me to ask Janet to come and check you out? We could send Teal'c back for her..."
O'Neill ran a hand through his short, gray hair. "Sure, why not? Janet could probably help these people set up infirmaries or hospitals or whatever they'll need once the war starts."
"The war, Sir?" Carter asked, face troubled.
"The war. With the NightSpirits. Once those things start coming through the gate, there will be a war on this planet, an all out war." O'Neill waved his hand in the air. "Sure, invite Doc. Her skills will come in handy. Have her bring along a couple companies of Marines, that wouldn't be a bad idea, either, Major."
"Sir?"
"Just kidding, Carter. Now, I'm keeping the king waiting. We all are, actually. We'll send a squad of guards with Teal'c to the gate."
"We?" The Major's face was even more worried.
"We. The king has named me the Commander of the Monschau forces, something he'll make public in a few minutes, so I can send a couple of men along with Teal'c." The Colonel motioned to one of the pair of guards at the door and quickly told him to send three men to escort his teammate to the gate. The man saluted O'Neill, then turned crisply and left. Turning back to Carter, he ordered, "Now come on, we've got a feast to attend," and with that, O'Neill turned and left his team behind, following the king.
"That was weird," said Daniel softly, looking at Carter.
"Way too weird." She turned to the Jaffa. "Teal'c..."
"I shall return to the gate as swiftly as possible, and inform GeneralHammond of the situation."
"Good. Daniel and I will stay here and keep an eye on the Colonel." As she turned to follow O'Neill back to the banquet hall, Carter paused. "Tell the General we need Janet here in a hurry."
"Yes, MajorCarter," Teal'c nodded, and left, three guards trailing in his wake.

O'Neill and the king stepped together back into the banquet hall. As they entered and walked between the long rows of tables occupied by a mix of warriors and villagers, a low rumble began to pass through the crowd. The keen eyed locals couldn't miss the necklace that gleamed on the visitor's neck, showing through the specially made, low necked shirt which allowed the necklace to be easily viewed.
"It's him!"
"The Silver Knight!"
"It's true!"
"He's here. He's here!"
Reaching the main table, which was set on a raised dais so all could see the king and their visitors, King Alwin and the Colonel stepped up and turned to the crowd.
"My people!" The king raised his hands for silence, and the crowd obeyed, the huge room with its hundreds of diners going silent. "Tonight, we praise all the Gods for bringing us the Silver Knight. He has returned as the prophecies foretold. Though the dark days are upon us, and we are threatened by the beings of evil, we shall prevail, because he will lead us to victory. I, King Alwin Leopold Hahn, ruler of all Monschau, present to you Colonel Jack O'Neill, champion of Monschau, and Commander of the Guard."
"Ah, that's a little flowery, King," O'Neill muttered in a low whisper.
"The Silver Knight is a great warrior, and a humble man," the king acknowledged O'Neill with a nod and small grin. "Tonight, we celebrate! The prophecy has been fulfilled! The Silver Knight his arrived!"
The crowd cheered.
The king raised his glass, "A toast. To the Silver Knight! To Victory!"
The crowd echoed his words, and everyone in the hall drank deeply from their glasses of wine and mugs of ale.
Carter and Daniel listened to the speech from the back of the room. "I don't like this, I don't like this at all," Carter murmured.
At a motion from the king, the two remaining members of SG-1 quietly made their way to the front of the room, and returned to their assigned places at the main table. Unlike before, when the Colonel had only toyed with his food, O'Neill now ate a hearty meal, all the while talking animatedly with the king and the guard Captain, Kevan.
Carter barely touched her food, too worried to eat. Daniel ate little as well as he tried to talk with those around him, and learn more about the people, and about the war they all seemed resigned would come at any time.
"Do you not like the food, Major Carter?" asked Kevan, when he noticed she wasn't eating.
"It's fine. I'm just a little worried, Captain, about my commanding officer," she admitted carefully.
"You should not worry. Your Colonel is the Silver Knight, and he will lead us to victory."
"Look, Kevan, I know you have this prophecy, but Colonel O'Neill is not a knight. He's not someone who wears armor or fights with swords and bows and arrows. And I don't see how effective armor and swords would be against Goa'uld weapons."
"Goa'uld power weapons will not work here."
"What?" Voices stilled around them at her loud exclamation. Staring around her, Carter lowered her voice. "Staff weapons and zats don't work here?"
"Do you mean the long staff like Teal'c carries? And the small hand weapons, you call those zats?"
Carter nodded. "Short for zatnickital."
"They do not work here, either kind. It is why the enemy sends his army of NightSpirits, swarming beings of evil who attempt to overwhelm us with sheer numbers."
"But that doesn't change the fact that Jack isn't trained as a knight, doesn't know your weapons." Daniel protested.
Kevan was still smiling. "Is it not true that O'Neill is a great warrior among your people?"
"Yes," Carter agreed.
"O'Neill is truly the Silver Knight. He will know The Way."
"How can you be so sure?"
"You came through the gate, a silver crowned warrior in the lead, as the prophecy foretold. The necklace of power accepted him, and he it. The time has come, and the rest of the prophecy will be fulfilled. So it has happened in the past, so it happens again."
"But Kevan," Daniel asked, "when I read some of your history in the Knights Hall, it seemed your people didn't win every time. They've been driven from the valley in the past. Didn't you have a Silver Knight then?"
"Yes, a Silver Knight led us then. But he died."
"He died?" Daniel's face look troubled. "I thought the Silver Knight was invincible."
"No. Some battles are lost, and we are forced to retreat. But we know in the end the Silver Knight will lead us to victory with his great skill and strength. Until then, each Silver Knight is master of his own fate."
"So Jack could die?" Daniel queried.
"Sometimes as our leader, the Silver Knight must sacrifice himself for his people. We understand."
"Ah, we don't," Daniel was staring at Kevan.
"The Silver Knight leads us in battle against the forces of darkness. It is his Destiny, his great Quest. And sometimes his Fate. Only the Gods know the outcome."
"Oh, boy," muttered Jackson.
Carter continued the questioning, still keeping one eye on O'Neill who was animatedly talking with the king as he devoured his dinner. "So what happens when the Silver Knight *does* survive?"
"Some have remained here, among our people, to be revered and honored throughout the remainder of their lives. Others have returned home."
"Other knights have come through the Stargate, then?" Daniel raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Yes, once, long ago, a knight came through the gate, like O'Neill."
"What happens with the, ah, necklace?" Daniel's hand waved at his own throat.
"Once the battle is won, and the power is no longer needed, the necklace will become dormant, until it is needed again."
"So Jack will just be able to take it off and put it back on the statue in the hall?" Daniel looked over at Sam, disbelieving.
"Yes," Kevan nodded.
Daniel and Sam exchanged glances. That, at least, was one less worry. They knew the necklace *could* be removed.
Kevan turned to the guests with a smile, raising his glass of ale in salute, "To the Silver Knight, O'Neill!"

Teal'c, accompanied by three of the locals, arrived at the Stargate to dial home. The three men gaped in astonishment at the blue squirming liquid that emerged after Teal'c pushed six symbols and the point of origin of the planet as the last symbol. They murmured at each other, frightened, exchanging uncertain looks, not knowing what to do. Their orders had been simple, though, and given by the Silver Knight, so they would obey.
"Come with me. There is nothing to fear," Teal'c motioned them with a slight gesture of his hand and, once he was sure the three warriors were following, stepped into the wormhole.
On Earth, the three strangers were escorted to temporary quarters as Teal'c quickly informed the General of what had occurred in Monschau. Dr. Janet Fraiser was present in the briefing room as well, along with Major Louis Ferretti, the commanding officer of SG-2.
"So, from what you've told me, the people on PX6-842 are living in circumstances comparable to the Middle Ages, with horses, swords, bows and spears. There's a king ruling the world and they have an enemy they call the NightSpirits," General Hammond summarized.
"That is correct, GeneralHammond," Teal'c nodded.
"And those NightSpirits are?" Hammond asked.
"They were called beings of darkness. They appear to be the soldiers and slaves of an as yet unknown Goa'uld. They come to this world to enforce their control on the population, as well as to seek and collect new hosts."
"You have no idea which System Lord we're dealing with here, Teal'c?" Ferretti joined in.
"I do not."
"Those people basically have nothing to fight the Goa'uld with, then," Hammond concluded. "They won't stand a chance."
"It is said that a great warrior, one they call the Silver Knight, comes to aid them in the battle and will lead them to victory, GeneralHammond," Teal'c informed the commander of the SGC.
Ferretti sniffled. "Hmpf. Whoever that is, what will he have to bring against the destructive and powerful troops of a System Lord?"
"The inhabitants of this planet have come to believe that O'Neill is their Silver Knight, MajorFerretti."
Louis' mouth fell open.
The General inhaled sharply, stammering, "What?"
"O'Neill is the only human being with silver hair. The king is convinced that O'Neill is indeed the Silver Knight of their legends, a master warrior who has come to lead them," the Jaffa tried to explain.
"These people believe the Colonel will fulfill their prophecy because of the color of his hair?" Hammond asked in astonishment.
"Yes, GeneralHammond. And O'Neill has begun acting strangely, as if he were indeed this knight of their prophecy," Teal'c added.
"What do you mean, acting strangely?" Fraiser demanded, looking questioningly at the only present member of SG-1.
"O'Neill has placed a silver chain around his neck, a necklace that belongs only to the Silver Knight. We attempted to prevent this, but were unsuccessful." The Jaffa threw an apologetic glance at General Hammond.
"So? What kind of necklace?" Ferretti asked, wondering what could possibly be so bad about that.
"The king called it the necklace of great power," Teal'c explained. "As soon as O'Neill put it on, it seemed to catch fire and sank into his flesh and bones. We were unable to remove it."
"What?" Fraiser called out, shocked. "It's sunken into his flesh and bones?"
Teal'c faced her. "I have never seen anything like it before, DoctorFraiser. O'Neill put on the necklace, then cried out in great pain and lost consciousness. The necklace now is part of him, embedded in his body. He now truly believes he is indeed Monschau's Silver Knight."
"You haven't been able to convince Colonel O'Neill that he is under the influence of some unknown device?" Hammond frowned worriedly.
"We have not."
"Sir," Janet faced the General. "I strongly recommend we bring the Colonel back to the SGC. Immediately. I need to examine him, run some tests..."
"O'Neill refuses to leave the planet, DoctorFraiser," Teal'c interrupted. "He feels the urgent need to help these people, but he agreed with MajorCarter's request that I escort you back to Monschau, along with any equipment you may need."
Janet stared at the General. "Sir? With your permission?"
"Permission to accompany the medical team as well, Sir," Ferretti joined in. "Whatever Colonel O'Neill has gotten himself into this time, I'm sure he can use our help."
Hammond nodded in approval. "All right. Doctor, prepare a small medical team for immediate offworld deployment. Doctor Warner can take over in the infirmary. Major Ferretti, I want SG-2 ready to gate out in one hour as well. Your orders are to assess the situation, assist SG-1 wherever necessary and to bring them home safely. And Major, you are to take over command from Colonel O'Neill if the need arises, is that understood?"
A grim look of determination settled onto Ferretti's face. "Yes, Sir."
"Dismissed. Good luck, people," Hammond concluded.

The festivities at Castle Monschau kept the three remaining members of SG-1 occupied until far after midnight. O'Neill hadn't talked with the others much, the king and his guards keeping him busy all night.
Daniel had been talking to many villagers, and had a pretty fair idea how these people lived and what they feared; the Goa'uld and his NightSpirits being their major threat. From the information he'd gathered, known to all through tales passed down from father to son and mother to daughter, the as yet unknown Goa'uld emerged through the Stargate on this planet, along with his army of NightSpirits. His guards were dressed in black armor, riding black horses and wearing black masks, commanding the fearsome beasts. The Goa'uld himself rode a fierce blood red horse: that was the only difference between the leader and his servants. When they came, they drove the villagers together, surrounding the people, destroying everything within their reach, setting crops, barns, shops and homes on fire. Once satisfied that the people were terrified into obedience, the troops would select dozens of the young and healthy residents from among the frightened and defeated villagers, taking them with them as they retreated to the Stargate. None of those people had ever been seen again.
The last time the NightSpirits had honored the planet with a visit had been about 40 years ago, as near as Daniel could figure. The cycle of arrivals was known, foretold by the appearance of a star constellation, and this year was the year. For over six months now, the king and villagers had been preparing for battle, and praying for the Silver Knight to arrive.
The evil black troops were expected to come through the Stargate any day now.

Sam, meanwhile, had been unable to pull her attention away from her Commanding Officer, worried as she was about his well-being. It bothered her that on the one hand he seemed so incredibly in control, but on the other hand he was not acting at all like his usual self. Normally, the Colonel would be the most suspicious of them all when it came to any kind of alien technology, yet the necklace that had nestled itself around his neck didn't seem to bother him.
It bothered her.
The Colonel acted as if he *was* this Silver Knight in person, the king was convinced he was and the more she observed her CO's behavior, the more Sam, too, believed that the necklace somehow had transformed him into the Legend she'd been told about.
How on Earth was that possible? Okay, right, she wasn't on Earth obviously, but there was no explanation for this, none at all. Magic? She was a scientist and she didn't believe in magic. Sure, as a kid she'd read The Lord of the Rings and other fanciful tales of magical beings, wizards, warlocks, and the battle between good and evil. Fun to read, but totally impossible. 'Then again,' she reminded herself, 'any rational person wouldn't believe what you do for a living, Sam, traveling to other planets, battling glowing eyed monsters with powers that would appear to be magical at first glance...' Carter shivered. She hated things she couldn't explain from the rational viewpoint of science. And this, this was totally irrational and unexplainable.

Colonel O'Neill had been discussing tactical maneuvers with the king and Kevan, strategies to defend the town and plans to get as many people as possible to safety when the NightSpirits finally arrived. Only now and then catching a few words of that conversation, Carter was stunned to hear her commanding officer use terms and tactics unknown to her and the military they belonged to, yet appropriate for the situation and circumstances they were dealing with here. Where had the Colonel learned that? How did he know?
It had to be the necklace of great power. It somehow influenced the person who was wearing it, yet Sam was certain it wouldn't have had the same effect if either Teal'c or Daniel had put it on. If only Teal'c came back soon with Janet and some of her staff. Maybe they could run some tests, determine the necklace's abilities, figure out what it was doing to the Colonel, and most importantly, how to get if off.

At last, the crowd started to leave as the grand celebration came to its end and everyone had eaten and drunk their fill. A few who had overindulged staggered out, assisted by some of the other villagers. The hall was emptying rapidly, and it was only then when Sam's face lit up. Teal'c had returned and he had Janet, three nurses and Major Ferretti's SG-2 with him. Relief overwhelmed her as she walked up to them.
"Teal'c, you're back. Thank goodness," she greeted the Jaffa. "Janet, I know it's really late but I want you to examine Colonel O'Neill before we all turn in for the night."
Dr. Fraiser's eyes were already scanning the area and she soon found the gray haired Colonel, although he looked different in that embroidered shirt and without his cap. O'Neill had spotted the new arrivals as well and his eyes met hers briefly. He said a few words to the man sitting next to him, then rose and approached her.
"Hi, Doc. Glad you could make it. I need you to set up your stuff over there, along the castle's walls," he waved a hand at the spot. "We really can use your help." He turned to SG-2, placing a friendly hand on Ferretti's lean shoulder. "Louis, my man. Couldn't resist a good fight, now could you? Happy to have you join us. They'll be plenty for us to do soon. Daniel..." O'Neill looked around until his eyes locked on the archaeologist. "Daniel, take SG-2 to the guestrooms and make sure they're settled in, okay?"
Fraiser exchanged looks with Sam, after visually inspecting the silver chains that appeared to be part of O'Neill's body. "Colonel?" she approached him, her outstretched hand ready to cautiously touch the necklace.
O'Neill turned. "What? Oh, I'll call some of the local healers. They can help you get started."
"No, Sir. I need to examine you first."
"Oh, for crying out loud, Doc. I'm fine," he protested.
"I insist, Colonel," Janet stated firmly.
O'Neill sighed. "Why did I agree to getting you over here?" he complained. "All right, but make it quick. I've got things to do."

Despite O'Neill's continuing protests that he didn't have time for the doctor, Janet managed to keep him corralled for two hours, running every test she could perform in this primitive situation. Every one of the Colonel's vital signs, test results and reactions was normal, right in line with what she knew to expect.
Shaking her head in a combination of relief and worry, she finally gave in to his demands to be allowed to get back to work, and watched him hurry away from the corner of the great hall that she and her team had commandeered as the makeshift medical center.
The moment O'Neill left, Carter was at Fraiser's side. "Janet, what did you find out?"
"Nothing."
Sam's worried frown didn't ease. "Nothing? How could you find nothing? He's got that alien necklace wrapped around his neck, and he doesn't even seem to care!"
"Well, okay," Fraiser conceded, "he does have that silver chain around his neck, and from what I can tell, it's embedded clear into his collarbones and ribcage. Nothing I know of short of major surgery would remove it. And I'm not even sure *that* would be sufficient. I tried to scrape a bit of the metal off one of the links of the chain, for analysis, and I couldn't even make a scratch on it."
Carter was pacing in front of the diminutive doctor. "Two hours and that's all you found out?"
"Look, Sam, I could only bring limited equipment with me, whatever was small enough to carry, and that will run off batteries. The best tests, like an MRI or a cat scan, are impossible here. So there's a lot more that I *don't* know than what little I *do* know. All I can say is that every test I ran gave absolutely, right on the mark normal results for the Colonel, if anything, a little better than usual. He certainly acted like his usual self, and he knew the answers to every question I slipped into the conversation. I did take some blood and tissue samples, though, and I'll need someone to send back through the gate, but I found *no* indication of anything abnormal, except for that necklace he's wearing..."
"But Janet..." Sam protested.
"I don't know anything else. Except that he's adamant that he won't leave. There's no way we could get him to give up this mission and leave this planet except by sedating him and carrying him back through the gate. And frankly, from what I've seen around here in only the past couple of hours, the reverence these people hold for him and their absolute belief that he'll save them, I can't imagine that they would let us take him back."
"No," Sam nodded in agreement. "So?"
"So, for now, we wait. And watch." And worry, Fraiser added silently.

Lou Ferretti was worried too.
The Major had worked with Colonel O'Neill before, hell, they'd been on that fateful, nearly fatal, first Stargate mission together. Ferretti knew O'Neill was one damn fine officer, the best CO he'd ever had the privilege to work with, an officer he'd tried to pattern himself after, to live up to O'Neill's high standards.
Today, he was scared.
It was too weird, the way O'Neill had just fit himself into this primitive society, the man's complete disregard for the gleaming silver chain around his neck. The Colonel distrusted alien technology, so why had he put that damn necklace on? Why didn't he see how it was affecting him? He should be freaked about the damn thing, but instead he was calmly planning the defense of a castle. It was all too much, like being in the middle of some movie set, a castle and horses and Jack O'Neill as the conquering knight in shining armor.

The Colonel and Kevan, after consuming a hasty breakfast of something like oatmeal, headed for the armory. Jack hadn't slept all night, yet he didn't feel tired, not at all. In fact, he felt full of energy. Hell, his knees didn't even ache, and he'd been on his feet for what, 36 hours straight now? Wasn't that odd, some inner voice questioned? Quickly, he dismissed the worry. He had a job to do, a thousand jobs to do if he was going to save these people from the NightSpirits.
Arriving at the armory, a large room off the courtyard of the castle, O'Neill stopped to hear the report of the sergeant at arms before proceeding to inspect the weapons room. The place was packed full of swords, daggers, staffs, crossbows, longbows and thousands and thousands of arrows of wood and steel. Row after shining row of gleaming metal, sharp tipped iron and steel hung neatly on the racks and walls.
"You've done a great job," the Colonel told the armorer.
"Thank you, Protector," said the native, bowing, beaming at praise from the Silver Knight. "Now, Sir Knight, we must get you outfitted. I have prepared your weapons and armor."
Jack followed the man into a small alcove, and there, laid out on a table, were the Silver Knight's armor and weapons. The armor was much lighter what he remembered reading about on Earth, O'Neill noted as he picked up one of the gleaming gauntlets. Hadn't a knight's armor on Earth looked much like this but weighed hundreds of pounds? This was lightweight, like aluminum, but strong. Trinium, perhaps? He made a mental note to ask Carter. She'd know.
Returning his attention to the weapons, he examined a pair of finely crafted, yet deadly daggers; a blunt short sword; and a shield that fit perfectly over his left forearm. O'Neill, however, was immediately drawn to the massive sword. The hands of a 21st century modern warrior of their own accord seemed to know what to do, knew just how to grasp the handle. He was surprised at the light weight of the huge thing as he raised its four foot length. Gazing at the gleaming silver steel, noting the intricate carvings decorating the blade, he hefted it experimentally. The leather wrapped hilt seemed to fit his hand, his long fingers wrapping around the grip as if they'd performed that task a thousand times. A grim smile cross his lips as he realized how right, how natural this weapon felt in his hand. It belonged there, he thought with amazement.
The guard Captain walked in, a small smile playing across his face at the sight of O'Neill surveying the Silver Knight's equipment. "Perhaps, Sir Knight, you would like to practice with your weapons?" suggested Kevan.
O'Neill nodded, hands still gripping the sword. The Captain of the guards smiled and signaled for one of the young pages to bring the other weapons.
Not knowing how he knew, yet so confident he did not wait for the others, O'Neill left the armory, turning unerringly left and down a long corridor, then through a doorway to the right, emerging into a small hidden courtyard. At his appearance, the clatter of ringing steel as sword clashed against sword on the practice ground stopped suddenly, a hush gripping the small collection of knights who now paused in their training. All eyes were turned to the man with the short cropped silver hair.
"I will be your training partner, My Lord," offered Kevan, emerging from the doorway behind O'Neill.
The Colonel grinned. "Sure, but just call me Colonel or O'Neill."
"Yes, Sir Colonel," said the guard Captain, selecting a weapon from a rack of swords along the courtyard wall as O'Neill removed his jacket and the long sleeved tunic. Slowly, Kevan walked out to the middle of the training yard, facing O'Neill, their feet shuffling across the sandy soil as they slowly circled, each sizing up his opponent. "I shall start easily, my... Colonel," Kevan offered.
A grin crossed Jack's face. "That's nice. I'm a little out of practice," he stated, his sure movement contradicting his statement as he expertly swung the blade upward to parry Kevan's first tentative strike. The Captain pulled back, assessing his opponent, then thrust the blade forward again. The Colonel easily countered the blow, his sword ringing loudly as it made contact with the Captain's weapon. O'Neill spun, making a second strike and a third, so quick that Kevan was forced to his knees, the tip of Jack's blade at his throat.
O'Neill, with a grin, backed away.
The guard Captain climbed to his feet, warily eying the unlikely knight who stood before him. Truly, this man who said he had never carried a blade before must have within him the power and knowledge of the legend, because in just three strokes he had defeated the best swordsman in Monschau as easily as if his opponent was an untrained, green boy.
The dozens of knights watched in amazement as O'Neill bested their champion again and again.
Atop the castle wall, unseen by the Colonel as he worked up a sweat in mock battle after mock battle, Major Carter looked on in stunned disbelief as O'Neill defeated them all, one challenger after another, giving advice and encouragement to the knights he bested.
Finally, Sam left her vantage point and went to find Dr. Jackson. After a lengthy search, she finally discovered him in a book-lined room deep within the castle, engrossed in reading, his fingers trailing swiftly across the page, his lips moving in concentration as he studied the unfamiliar script.
"Daniel?" Sam paused at the door, peering into the dimly lit room.
"Oh. Hi, Sam," he barely lifted his head from the book he was studying. "This is fascinating. It's the history of Monschau, telling of previous raids by the Goa'ulds, dating back hundreds if not thousands of years," he explained, waving a hand around him at the stacks of books.
"Daniel, I was just watching the Colonel..."
Jackson lifted his head this time to meet his teammate's gaze, something in her tone worrying him, her expression worrying him even more. "What? Did something happen to Jack?"
"No. Well, sort of. I mean, he's down in the courtyard, training with the knights. Defeating them."
"Yeah, he's good at hand to hand combat. I've seen him take down guys twice his size and half his age," answered the archaeologist with a shake of his head. "And he's certainly teaching them moves they've never seen on this planet before."
Carter ran a hand through her blonde hair. "Actually, Daniel, he's not fighting hand to hand. He's sword fighting."
That announcement brought Daniel's abrupt gaze upward, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Sword fighting? Jack?"
"Yes. He's defeated every champion they've got."
"But where did Jack learn how to use a sword?"
"That's just it, Daniel. I don't know," Carter paced worriedly. "I mean, he's a natural athlete, and he's good with all kinds of weapons, Special Forces teaches the use of all sorts of weapons, anything that might be available in any situation, but a medieval broad sword? No way." She shivered. "But he's down there, swinging that sword like he carries one every day. Defeating warriors who *do* carry one every day."
"Look, Sam, there's got to be some reasonable explanation..."
"I know that, but I haven't seen one." Her eyes met his. "Have you found anything here? About this Silver Knight?"
Jackson nodded. "Oh yeah. Lots. One appears about every 40 years or so, at the same time the Goa'uld stage their great raids. I don't know why they'd time things like that..."
"Actually, there is a reason for that," Carter jumped in, glad to find something about this place that had a logical scientific explanation. "This planet has a unique extended orbit. It takes a really long time to make one complete revolution around its sun. Now, you know on Earth, a year is based on one revolution of our planet around the sun, or 365 days. A 'year' here is something over 14,000 days or equal to about 40 Earth years. During most of those years, roughly 39 out of the 40, the Stargate can't be used. It's like K'tau, where we had to override the gate protocols to connect..."
"But we didn't do that this time..."
"No, but only because we made contact during the right part of the planet's cycle, when the Stargate here is accessible. In fact, we tried dialing this address before, a couple of years ago, and couldn't get through. So I put the coordinates into the cold dialing program, and it was only a month or so ago that we got a hit..."
"Like Bedrosia. "
"Exactly," Carter beamed. "So, if most of the time we can't connect with this gate, then neither can this Goa'uld."
"Okay, he couldn't come through the gate, why didn't he come in a ship?" Daniel inquired.
Sam shook her head. "There's a heavy radiation belt in this solar system. Unless he's got a mother ship, and as a minor lord he probably doesn't have one, he wouldn't want to try flying in this system."
Daniel nodded, absorbing the information, his gaze dropping once again to the scattering of books on the table. "So, if what I'm reading here is true, the same Goa'uld has been raiding these people for hundreds of years?"
"Well, we do know that some of them are hundreds of years old. With the sarcophagus, and a steady supply of new hosts, we don't know how long one actually could live, under the right conditions." Sam's eyes were bright with excitement. "Certainly hundreds of years, maybe even thousands. Who knows?"
"So this one, whoever he is, returns every 40 years, harvests a new crop of hosts for himself or to barter to other Goa'ulds, and then goes back to wherever it is he comes from?"
Carter nodded in agreement. "That would seem logical. But," she cocked her head as another question occurred to her, "why haven't these people just, well, closed the gate? Or buried it? They seem to be pretty intelligent."
"Ah, actually, Sam, they have. Or they tried. It took them a while to figure out where the glowing eyed ones were coming from," Daniel explained, leafing through one of the old handwritten books. "And then they tried to block the gate, but used only dirt and small rocks. They had no way to test it, because there's so many years between activations. And, of course, a simple earthen barrier won't stop a connection. It gets vaporized by the plasma jet when the gate's activated. The people thought it was magic. They were afraid to try again. Many years later, they attempted to leave guards. They were all killed, again probably vaporized if they were lucky, taken as hosts if they weren't," Jackson explained with a shudder. "Either way, their attempts to block the gate didn't work. It held more 'magic' than they had the ability to overcome."
"So where did the Knight come from?" Sam asked.
"I haven't found that out yet," Daniel waved a hand around the room. "There are so many books. Some are so old the writings have grown faint, others were damaged when the castle was destroyed hundreds of years ago. The answer is in here, somewhere, but I don't know where." He pulled the glasses from his face, pinching his nose between two fingers, his eyes already tired from squinting at the tiny, faint writings on hundreds of pages. "So what do *you* think?"
"The people believe it's magic."
"Well, I know you don't buy that."
"No, I don't. But I don't have a theory. Yet. I'll find an answer," Carter promised. "If we have enough time."

The morning's training session was over. Jack O'Neill had spent three hours swinging the mighty silver sword, and he'd found the workout refreshing. Hell, he'd taken on every one of the knights of the guard, defeated all of them, and he *still* wasn't tired. He knew that should worry him, and yet, he pushed aside the strange thought. He was ravenously hungry, however, all that exercise giving him a huge appetite, so he found his way to the kitchen and charmed the cook out of the makings of a super sized sandwich. He wolfed down the concoction of bread, cheese and sliced pork, washing it down with half a pitcher of cold milk.
After lunch, he spent several hours with the king, going over the list of stores to be sure the fortress held adequate supplies of food for the people, fodder for the horses and cows, and weapons for the warriors. A spring beneath the castle provided a steady supply of fresh water. The walls of the castle were thick and sturdy. Ferretti's team was working with local stone masons to repair one area that might be weak, but otherwise, the defenses were ready. The king and Kevan had even planned a serious of barriers or breastworks along the valley floor to slow the invaders.
"You've planned well, Sir," O'Neill told the king as they concluded their meeting.
"Thank you, Protector. My people have, sadly, had much practice in preparing for battle." Alwin waved the Colonel to the door. "Now, I believe Kevan is waiting. He wishes to take you riding before supper."

The stables were tucked up against one side of the castle wall near the gate. Kevan stood waiting, holding the reins of a tall, sturdy, roan warhorse. O'Neill looked around, wondering where his mount was, figuring perhaps a page was going to bring him a horse. However, when the Colonel approached, the Captain of the guard handed the reins of his horse to a stable boy, and walked towards O'Neill.
"We must get your steed, Sir Colonel," Kevan explained, turning toward the Great Hall.
"What, you keep some horses in there?" Jack asked in astonishment.
"Only one, my lo--, Colonel," the native answered cryptically, leading the way through the large banquet room and into the Knights Hall. Kevan turned expectantly to O'Neill. "Claim your steed, Sir."
"Ah, I don't see any horses..." Jack looked around in confusion, and then understood. He didn't know where the knowledge came from, only that he suddenly knew exactly what he needed to do. He walked to the center of the hall, to the spot where the Silver Knight's horse stood. The horse no longer bore its rider, the armor and the statue of the knight removed now from its back, but the saddle, bridle and trappings were all still in place.
Without hesitation, O'Neill stepped up onto the stone platform next to the mighty beast and raised his hand to stroke the underside of the horse's jaw. The form, surprisingly, began to warm, like real flesh. "It's time to awaken, mighty Eagle. The Silver Knight calls," he whispered into the horse's ear.
He saw a tiny shiver waver through what he had thought was a statue of a horse, a small shudder. As he watched in astonishment, the two raised feet sank slowly to land upon the platform with the ringing sound of steel shod hooves striking stone. The great brown eyes blinked, and slowly the head turned, as if the animal was appraising him. A silken soft muzzle reached out to touch his outstretched hand, the mighty creature blowing a gentle breath across O'Neill's skin, drawing in a great lungful of air as if inhaling the scent of its master. With a whicker of recognition, the velvet muzzle dropped again to nuzzle the Colonel's hand.
"He knows his master," said Kevan softly from across the room, a smile lighting his face. "I did not think to ever see this in my lifetime, to see the great horse come to life. I thought it was only a tale told to entertain children. The Silver Knight himself comes but rarely, and not all can awaken the great horse."
O'Neill stepped off the platform, the huge horse following meekly behind him like an oversized dog, Jack thought with a smile. Each step of the steel shod hooves rang across the stone floor as the animal paced majestically beside its master, out of the Knights Hall, through the banquet room, and out into the courtyard.
The castle and its hundreds of inhabitants were silent as they watched the scene, disbelieving. At the sound of the ringing hoof beats, everyone had left his or her work, from the king himself to the knights, the blacksmiths, the stable boys, even the cooks. No one here had ever before seen the great horse come to life.
Oblivious to the watching throng, O'Neill walked back toward the stable and waited while Kevan reclaimed his own mount. With the lithe grace of someone who rode everyday, the Colonel jumped up into the stirrup and swung aboard the mighty warhorse. Only then did he look around and see the silent gathering, watching. "Nice horse," he commented with a smile, and lifted the reins, cantering out through the gate, over the moat and into the village.
O'Neill and the guard Captain spent the remainder of the afternoon and the early evening reconnoitering the approaches to the castle, the village streets, the roads leading to the village, and especially, the road from the Stargate to the village, the route the attackers would follow. The Colonel stopped often to assess the terrain, to consider how best to use the natural landscape to aid in defending Monschau, and to gain an understanding of this area that would all too soon become a battlefield.

In mid-afternoon, a courier entered the main hall of the castle. Spotting the unusual clothing of the alien healers, the young man jogged across the hall, and saluted a small woman dressed in green cloth. "I have a message for the Healer, Doctor Fraiser," he stated with a bow.
"That would be me, soldier," Janet told him.
The young man handed her a package, saluted and left again.
Janet took the packet and headed back to the makeshift hospital ward she and her staff had spent the day preparing. With the help of a contingent of local women, they had set up beds and rolled bandages, and well, truthfully, not much else, other than arranging the few supplies she'd been able to bring with her, and a second shipment of medicines that had come through the gate in mid-morning. She'd sent the Colonel's test results and blood and tissue samples back through the gate for analysis then, too, and this should be the results.
Opening the folder, the doctor read through the results once, and then again. Normal, all normal, except for a moderate elevation in O'Neill's adrenaline levels. These were the most routine test results she could expect, even under optimal conditions. Baffled, Fraiser read the report once more, hoping there was something she'd missed, but she found nothing.

An hour before supper, SG-1 minus its CO, SG-2 and Dr. Fraiser gathered for a meeting in the Knights Hall.
"Where's the Colonel?" Ferretti asked.
"He's still riding, with Kevan, inspecting the defenses I guess," Carter explained.
"Riding? I didn't know the Colonel liked horses."
Carter shrugged. "Well, that one liked him," she pointed at the empty platform.
Ferretti stared. "But, but wasn't that a statue?"
"I guess not," Dr. Jackson interjected.
"So the Colonel's out riding that fancy horse?"
"Yup," Daniel added. "Didn't you see him go? I thought everyone in the whole castle was there to watch."
"No. My team and I along with Teal'c spent the day helping repair that weak spot in the castle wall, along the riverbank," Ferretti explained. "Damn dirty job. But we got things shored up, thanks to Menzen, here. Pretty good engineer for a geologist."
Capt. Menzen shrugged. "Changed my major halfway through college, Sir. And stone is stone, even here. I think the repairs should hold."
"Good, I'm sure the Colonel will be pleased to hear it," Carter seemed uncertain.
Ferretti looked around at the SG personnel. "So, what did we learn today people? Dr. Fraiser?"
Janet reported on her efforts to set up the infirmary; Daniel briefed the others on what he'd read of the history of Monschau; and Carter informed the team of her findings on the planets' odd orbit and why the gate worked only sporadically during the 40 year long Monschau 'year.'
"I discovered something else, today, too," she added. "Unlike the medieval armor of Earth, the weapons here are extremely lightweight. They're a mixture of trinium and a local ore I've never seen before. The bottom line is, knights here aren't helpless off their horses. It's incredible. There could be hundreds of uses for this in our own weapons and technology."
"What about the story you heard, Major, that the Goa'uld power weapons don't work here?" Ferretti inquired.
"I haven't got an answer to that, yet, Sir, but I sensed an unusual amount of naquadah around the gate." Carter turned to the Jaffa. "Teal'c, is it possible that there could be a device on or around the gate that would somehow damage or deplete naquadah powered weapons?"
"That is possible, MajorCarter. Remember, in the cave on Cimmeria, my weapon would not work."
"Because of Thor's Hammer!! Right." Carter's brain was already whirling with ideas.
"Is this an Asgard protected planet, then?" Lou asked.
"It might be. I'll keep working on this, Sir," Carter promised Ferretti.

O'Neill and Kevan returned to the castle as dusk was descending over the hills to the west, the sunset painting the sky in vivid bands of orange and gold. The Colonel led his mount into the stable himself, seeing to it that the extraordinary horse had a large and comfortable stall and was offered the finest hay and grain. Only after Eagle's needs were seen to did O'Neill leave the stable.
They were too late for supper, the others having already eaten, but once again, feeling intense hunger as if he'd eaten nothing all day, the Colonel charmed the cooks into providing him with a large plate of leftovers from the evening meal. He devoured them like a starving man.
That's where Major Carter found him, sitting alone at one of the long tables in the banquet hall. "Hello, Sir."
"Hey, Carter. How was your day?" he asked brightly between mouthfuls of warm bread slathered in butter.
"Ah, fine, Sir. And yours?"
"Rather extra-ordinary, really," he smirked. "A little sword fighting, a little horseback riding..."
"I didn't know you were expert in either of those, Sir."
A strange look crossed his face, then disappeared so quickly Carter wasn't sure she'd really seen it. "Ah, neither did I, in fact," Jack chewed diligently on another huge bite of bread and cheese.
"I was watching the knights, when you were training with them. You're very good, Colonel. Sir, where *did* you learn to handle a sword?"
Again, the slightly puzzled frown flitted across the lips, then was gone. "Don't know, Carter. Does it matter? I just know what I know. Picked it up somewhere along the way, I imagine..."
"Sir..."
"Major, look, I've had enough of worried frowns and furtive glances for one day between you, Fraiser, Ferretti, even Daniel. You look at me like you don't even know me."
"I'm not sure we do, Sir."
"And what does that mean?" he glared.
"It means that none of us are sure what that thing has done to you!" she answered, pointing to the silver chain across his chest.
"It's done nothing," he answered softly.
"Sir, that thing is exerting some kind of influence over you, the swords, the horse, it's bizarre, Sir. We'd like you to go home with us..."
"Doctor Fraiser cleared me."
"No, Sir, she didn't," Carter insisted. "She checked you out, as much as she could here, but her tests aren't complete. And while your test results were nearly normal, Colonel, quite frankly you ought to be freaking out over that piece of alien technology imbedded in your chest," she finished with a shiver.
"It's not alien technology, Carter, it's just a symbol."
"Sir, I know better, and so do you." Sam stood, casting one last worried glance back at O'Neill, and left.
Jack stared after her for long moments, thinking. He knew this whole thing was odd, knew he was doing things he shouldn't by all rights be doing, knew that he somehow knew things he couldn't possibly know, and yet, he also knew, deep inside, that what he was doing was right. He was protecting these people. He was a warrior, a military man; he'd had spent his whole life preparing for this test. He would not fail these people. They were counting on him.

Carter hurried through the maze of hallways to the guest quarters, knocking on the door to SG-2's suite. "Major Ferretti?" she called impatiently.
He opened the door and waved her in. SG-2, Teal'c, Dr. Fraiser and Dr. Jackson were sitting on cushions scattered around the large room. "What did you find out, Carter?"
She slumped against the wall, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "He wouldn't listen to reason. It's like he's there, but he's not really *there*. He's ignoring the obvious. Like with Kinthia, back on Argos."
"Maybe the necklace is drugging him somehow?" Daniel looked over at Janet.
"If it is, it didn't show up on any of the tests," the doctor answered "The only anomaly I found was a moderate elevation in his adrenaline levels. Even that could be considered normal under the stressful conditions here, preparing for battle against the Goa'uld."
Ferretti looked around the room at the worried faces of SG-1, and took a deep breath. "General Hammond authorized me to take command if the Colonel refused to follow his orders to return to the SGC. I'd guess the time has come."
"So what are we going to do, Major?" Carter wanted to know.
"We forcibly take him home."
"How?" Teal'c's voice was as solemn as ever. "O'Neill will not go willingly, nor will these people allow us to take him away."
Ferretti looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the worried faces. "We'll move tonight. Doctor, you'll have to sedate him. We carry him to the gate and take him home."
"There are Monschau guards stationed at the Stargate," Teal'c reminded.
"Watching for incoming travelers. I don't think they'll try to stop us, as long as we don't let them see it's the Colonel with us." Ferretti once again glanced at each worried face. "We'll get the Colonel home and straighten out this mess. We go at 0100. Meet here."

At 0100 the SG-team members reassembled in SG-2's quarters. Ferretti quietly explained his plan. "Carter, Teal'c, Delgado, you're with me and the Doc. The rest of you wait for us at the castle gate, by the moat. We grab the Colonel, meet you there, and hike it for the Stargate. Keep quiet. If these folks find out we're kidnapping their hero, we're in trouble. Got it?"
Heads nodded. The two groups silently left their quarters, separating in the hallway.
Ferretti's team slipped down the hall toward O'Neill's quarters. With dismay, Lou saw light under the door. Shrugging, making a finger in front of his lips shssing motion at the others, he tapped softly on the door. "Colonel?" he whispered.
The door opened, O'Neill peering out. "Ferretti?" he said quietly. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."
Ferretti covered his surprise. "I, ah, saw your light. Wondered why you were still up, if you needed some help, Sir."
"No, Lou. Just couldn't sleep. Working on things," he answered, turning back into the room, waving a hand at the table littered with plans, drawings of the roads, village streets, and castle defenses. "I've got a lot to do."
Ferretti followed him into the room, Fraiser on his heels. Just as she reached forward, needle in hand, O'Neill caught the flicker of motion and started to turn. The doctor jabbed the needle into the Colonel's shoulder, quickly injecting the sedative.
"What the hell?" His eyes glared angrily at her, then rolled up in his head, and he slid toward the floor, Teal'c's quick hands saving O'Neill from hitting hard.
The men nodded silently at one another, Teal'c and Lt. Delgado hefting the Colonel's unconscious body, following Carter out the door and down the hallway. Quickly, they were out of the living quarters, moving to the castle gate through the quiet, cloaking darkness. The rest of the teammates were waiting, and they all moved quickly away from the castle, through the town and toward the gate.
They traveled for hours through the darkness, meeting no one, their optimism growing by the minute. O'Neill had not yet been missed in the castle. Their plan was working, Ferretti thought with sudden optimism.
Approaching the gate at last, Ferretti called a halt to check on the whereabouts of the guards. Teal'c and Delgado set the Colonel's limp body down on the grass beside the road. Hastily, Doc pulled out her stethoscope and checked O'Neill, nodding.
"Everything okay, Doc?" Ferretti asked.
"He's fine. But I had to give him a pretty big dose of sedatives to be sure he'd go down, and in a hurry. I just needed to reassure myself. He should be out for three or four more hours at least." Fraiser stood, tucking the stethoscope back into her pocket. "We can go on anytime, Major," she turned back to Ferretti.
"There are just four guards at the gate, MajorFerretti," Teal'c reported.
"Good, we'll just walk..." Ferretti started.
In that instant, O'Neill was on his feet, backing away from the others. "What the hell were you doing?" he shouted. "Drugging me?"
Fraiser was stunned. There was no way the Colonel should be awake, much less on his feet, considering the dose of sedatives he'd been given. "Colonel..." she took a step towards him, still stunned over his sudden revival. He must have been faking it, pretending he was still unconscious, waiting for a chance to make his break. But he *shouldn't* have been awake. No way, not with the hefty dose of medicines she'd injected. "Sir, please..."
"Doc, stay back." There was warning in his rough voice.
"Colonel, Sir, this is for your own good," Carter tried to explain, hoping to keep O'Neill talking long enough that the others could encircle him.
"Drugging me is supposed to help me?"
"Jack, you are not yourself," Daniel soothed.
"I sure the hell am."
"No, Sir," Ferretti stated.
"Back off, Lou," the Colonel ordered. Raising his voice, he shouted, "Guards? Over here!"
Just as the guards turned to respond to O'Neill's call, something else happened.
With the clank of metal on metal, the inner ring of the gate began to move.
A single chevron locked, and glowed amber in the darkness.
O'Neill and the SG-team members all stopped, staring at the gate.
The Colonel turned to Teal'c. "Was anyone from the SGC coming?"
"No, O'Neill, GeneralHammond would allow no one else to come here until we had ascertained your status and whether there was danger to others. He would send no one, even if we were to fail to return."
"Damn, then, that means they're here!" the Colonel cursed. "Guard!"
One of the gate guards raced up to O'Neill and saluted.
"Sound the alarm," the Colonel ordered. "Awaken the knights. The NightSpirits are coming."
The wailing tone of a horn sounded, echoing down the valley. Within seconds, the watch fire atop the first hill flared into life, and seconds later, before the gate had even stopped dialing, the second erupted into orange flame, and then the third as well.
"The signal has been sent, Sir Knight. The guard will come."
O'Neill looked around in dismay. "How long, soldier?"
"We had not anticipated their arrival so soon," the man stammered. "It will take an hour for the first defenders to arrive."
"Well, your first defenders are already here." O'Neill looked around, picked the youngest of the gate guards. "You, son, back to the village as fast as you can. Be sure the word is spread. Evacuate the village into the castle. Be sure the defenders follow my plan. I'll keep my team here as the rear guard. Tell Kevan to hurry." The Colonel patted the young man on the back, watching as he raced for the horses, leaped aboard, and galloped away toward the town.
"Sir..." Carter started.
"Not now, Carter. We've got a war to fight." Jack looked over his small band of defenders. "Daniel, take Doc and get back to the castle..."
"But.."
"No buts. She'll be needed there. There will be casualties. Go. Now. That's an order." Turning away from the civilian and the doctor, he added, "SG-2, Teal'c, Carter, we set up a skirmish line here. We may have an initial advantage, they won't be expecting modern weapons fire. Guards," the three remaining guardsmen had retrieved their bows, "join the line." He watched, making sure everyone was in position.
"No one fires until I do," he warned.

The gate kawooshed, a loud noise in the quiet darkness of the woods. O'Neill fervently wished for a pair of night goggles to help him see, but with his eyes adjusted to the darkness, aided by the small light of a crescent moon, he could actually see more than he expected.
For long seconds nothing happened. Jack could hear the harsh breathing of the men and woman clustered behind the stone wall the defenders had erected weeks ago in the shadow of the trees. O'Neill heard shuffling feet, a quiet cough, then something was pressed into his hand. A gun, Ferretti's 9mm, was there on his palm, and his vest, the pockets stuffed with ammo. Shit, he hadn't even remembered he was unarmed.
The silence lengthened, and then something came through the gate.
Something not human.
In the darkness a hundred yards behind them, the guards' horses snorted in fear at the unfamiliar smell.
Even the humans could pick up the scent, something stale, something that smelled musty, damp and old, like death and dying.
The gate rippled again, and another 'thing' stepped through. Short, dark, a moving lump of coal black the size of a large dog. Then something taller, erect, human or at least human-like, a Jaffa possibly, armor glinting in the faint light.
The defenders held their breath, afraid any sound would betray them.
The Jaffa said something in deep, guttural tones, and then the dark creatures at his feet emitted something like a cross between a howl and a shriek and surged forward.
One of the bowmen fired, impaling one of the black lump things with an accurately aimed arrow. The creature emitted a high pitched wailing shriek, echoed by the others, more coming through the gate now in a steady stream, dozens of them, until the air was nearly unbreathable with the smell and their high pitched chatter assaulted the ears.
Once again, they surged forward. O'Neill held his fire another long moment, but more and more of the grotesque creatures marched from the gate. He aimed at one of the dark lumps and fired. It crumpled, a half dozen or more appendages flailing madly as it howled. A volley of shots echoed his. The charge faltered, retreated, then surged forward. "Keep firing!" he ordered, as the valley reverberated to the sound of gunfire and shrieking, dying alien creatures.

Janet Fraiser stopped at the sound of gunfire behind them. Pausing, hands on knees, bent over at the waist to draw in breath, she felt her heart hammer.
"Oh, damn," said Daniel in the darkness beside her, turning to look back at the way they'd come, wishing he was back there to help. His teammates, his friends, were back there facing whatever those things were. He'd seen drawings in some of the books in the musty old library, but he hadn't been sure if the crude pictures had been true to life depictions of some terrifying unknown beasts, or simply fanciful depictions of the hellish natures of the creatures. Either way, he was worried about his friends. He felt for the pistol he carried, checking to be sure it was there, and loaded, an instinctive movement that Jack had drilled into his head.
The gunfire continued at a steady, controlled pace. No panic. None of them would, they were all good soldiers, experienced, and Jack was there to lead them. Even if he wasn't quite acting like himself, there was no one who would be calmer, steadier.
"Come on, Janet, we better move," Daniel said after a couple of minutes.
Fraiser cast one last worried glance behind her, then hurried up the road after Jackson.

They didn't stop coming.
Wave after wave of the otherworldly dog-like creatures tumbled out of the Stargate. They reminded O'Neill of the replicators, except these weren't mechanical horrors, they were grotesque biological ones, like dogs crossbred with gargoyles, something straight out of some horror movie.
The invaders didn't seem to be reacting to the unexpected resistance. Maybe they weren't so unexpected then, Jack thought, keeping a watchful eye on his small band of defenders.
The bowmen were running out of arrows. He tapped the first on the shoulder. "Retreat to the next barrier. We'll join you there," he ordered, and the man accepted gratefully, taking the other guards with him.
Now it was only the seven from Earth, firing in a steady, unhurried rhythm, keeping the creatures at bay.
Jack checked his watch, the faintly luminous dial bright in the darkness. Twenty minutes? That was all? It would be a long time before reinforcements arrived, too long at this rate. He didn't want to give up this first line of defense, but knew he had to retreat in order to save his small band of defenders.
"Pull back, to the next barrier, back at the curve in the road," he told them, making sure each knew their destination. They worked an orderly retreat, pulling back in stages, covering each other until they safely reached the next set of breastworks, crouching behind the stacked logs on either side of the road.
"Lou?" O'Neill asked SG-2's leader.
"Ammo will be a problem in a bit, Sir. I'm down by half."
"Damn," O'Neill cursed. "Carter?"
"Same here, Sir."
"Conserve what you can, then. Short bursts or single fire only. We need to hold them off as long as we can," the Colonel ordered.
The gate was still spewing aliens. There were more Jaffa emerging now, too, joining the attack wave. Shit, this was not good, Jack mused. While a single, well aimed bullet could kill one of the small creatures, a lone bullet rarely stopped an armored Jaffa. These were coming through in full battle gear, helmets included, most carrying swords, some toting odd, sharp tipped staff weapons that didn't fire, but were used like pikes. Multiple bursts of gunfire were needed to take down each one of the Jaffa.
"Sir, they're flanking us!" shouted SG-2's Lt. Delgado.
O'Neill didn't want to issue this order, either, but again, he knew he had to. This was just a delaying skirmish, not a full blown battle. The goal was to slow the enemy until reinforcements arrived. Choking back his dislike for another retreat, but knowing it was necessary, he again called for a withdrawal. "Okay, then, retreat, half-mile, back to the creek. Go! Go!"
Another orderly retreat, another half mile of ground lost already. O'Neill swore, but could do nothing to stop the alien horde.
However, this time, at this bulwark, there was good news. Within moments of reaching the barriers at the stream O'Neill heard, above the sounds of battle, the distinctive rumble of a multitude of shod hooves. Kevan and his knights had arrived, a hundred veteran soldiers.
"Hold your fire," O'Neill shouted as the knights thundered past his exhausted team, charging into the terrifying throng of aliens and Jaffa. Swords lifted and swung, reflecting the moonlight. Warhorses reared and kicked, crushing the enemy. Even without the gunfire, the sound was deafening-- the shrieking, howling aliens; the shouts of the knights; the whinnying horses; and the clatter of steel striking steel.
One of the pages galloped up to Jack, handing him the Silver Knight's sword and shield and the reins of the grey stallion. His weariness suddenly gone, O'Neill threw himself into Eagle's saddle, sword in one hand, shield in the other, and joined the knights in the midst of the wild melee. He knew what to do. Guiding the warhorse with knee pressure, he attacked a Jaffa, one mighty swipe of the sword cutting through armor and nearly severing the alien's head. Jack jerked the weapon free and went after another and another.
Pausing to wipe the sweat on his forehead that threatened to trickle down and block his vision, he spotted a cluster of aliens that had pulled a knight from his horse. With a cry of rage he pushed Eagle into the throng of creatures, slashing alien flesh with every sweep of the steel blade. One of the gargoyle/dog thingies leaped onto his horse's back, but O'Neill crushed its skull with a swat of the shield. He fought his way forward to the other knight, dropping his shield to reach down and pull the guard up onto the safety of Eagle's broad back.
Jack suddenly realized he could see better now. Dawn was beginning to color the sky to the east, pale streaks of light that illuminated the road where the guard's fierce charge was pushing back the enemy. The aliens were retreating, the knights following them, advancing as far as the next set of breastworks, the line of downed trees where SG-1 and SG-2 had been unable to hold them a half-mile from the gate.
There, Kevan called a halt, pulling his men in behind the defenses, then turning to O'Neill with a triumphant grin. "We've stopped them, Sir!"
"For now," O'Neill answered grimly. "They will be back, and more. But for now, we have held our own." He let a small smile soften his face as he raised his voice to address the warriors. "Good work, guardsmen," the Colonel praised them. "You have shown your courage and dedication. We have won our first victory, but we will need many more to win this war." Extending a hand to the knight who rode behind him, O'Neill helped the wounded man down to the ground. Reinforcements had arrived now, more knights and bowmen and medical personnel. All around them, the tired fighters were dismounting from horses that had run themselves to near exhaustion to reach the battle in time.
Looking out of place amid the throng of natives, Ferretti and the other SG team members stood watching O'Neill and the guards. The Major pushed his cap well back on his forehead. "Well, boys and girls, we've just landed ourselves smack dab in the middle of a war."

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.

~~~~
Prepare thyself, my people
Salvation is finally here
The Silver Knight has come to us
And will free us from our fear
~~~
The Silver Knight is leading us
That is why he has come
Follow him and fight with him
The battle has begun
~~~
Evil comes in its true form
Dark creatures of the night
To challenge us and challenge him
Is he our one true Knight?
~~~
Hopeless as it might become
Good always defeats the bad
The Silver Knight will find the path
Or so the foretell said
~~~
Glowing eyes of hate
Enclosed by beams of white
Can be defeated by no-one
Except the Silver Knight
~~~~

"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.

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:

~~~~
The Silver Knight shall lead the way
From dark of night to light of day
The power of the circle turned
Defeat to victory, as we learned.
~~~
Despair not, valiant warriors all
The Silver Knight stands straight and tall
Leads a mighty force, at his beck and call,
Slays the evil, from the darkened hall.
~~~~

"Oh, that's really helpful," Jack frowned. "More mumbo jumbo mystery."
Daniel raised his hand. "Wait, there's more."

~~~~
Search high and low, never despair
The path is dark but it is there,
Awaiting just the Knight's sure hand
To lead the weary, victorious band.
~~~~

"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 ran 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:

~~~~
From the Knights Hall go forth, and right.
Then down, and up to win the fight.
Trust, believe and follow him true
The Silver Knight will lead us through.
~~~~

"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:

~~~
Its task fulfilled, its duties done
The mighty horse has done its best
The enemy defeated, the battle won
Eagle's deserved its rest.
~~~

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.
"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:

~~~~
No man of this land can forever close
the glowing eyes of hate;
but from the stars on eagle's wings
this man sealed the enemy's fate
~~~
A crown of silver he will wear
A lion's heart of courage rare
A stranger, yet a man of grace,
A warrior from a distant race.
~~~
One we shall know by many names
blessed is our Silver Knight,
he has lead our land to times of peace
and victory in the light.
~~~
A crown of silver he will wear
A lion's heart of courage rare
A stranger once, but evermore
Our Silver Knight, just one of four.
~~~
His time among us will be brief
He cannot linger here
His own battles must be fought
All for his homeland dear.
~~~
A crown of silver he will wear
A lion's heart of courage rare
A man of honor, born to fight
Saved us all: the Silver Knight.
~~~~

"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 <<<