Tsydon

The Sun On The Horizon 

Three 

Dinner with devils

Getting to know one's hosts 

The scent of warm oranges wrapped around Daniel’s dreams and drew him back to the waking world. He yawned hugely and with an effort, opened his eyes. Memories filtered back – an exotic city, happy people working their trades, temples, flowers… Goa’uld. He darted a glance either side of the bed, relieved to see he was alone this time. He yawned again, curiously tired considering he had gone to sleep soon after the conclusion of the intimate little dinner with Ba'al.

Daniel rolled his head to the left and looked at the private dining room, now revealed behind the once hidden wall-door Kosharta had ushered them through. It opened onto an extension of his own balcony, its turquoise curtains batting playfully in the breeze. The delicate orange blossom scent brushed past again and he followed it, rolling slowly to the side of the bed. He pushed himself upright, grabbed a silk wrap and wound it around his hips.

Seems pjs, along with underwear, haven’t evolved on Ba'al’s Brave New Planet. He gave a puritanical sniff and shuffled off to the bathroom.

Or should that be Bath Room? He shook his head at the enormous sunken tub/swimming pool/creek. The far wall of the room sported a constant waterfall, burbling down over shiny blue stones set in the wall to run along a channel into the bath which was an irregular-shaped pool, also lined with the blue stones and surrounded by potted ferns and flowering creepers that crawled up the walls and hung tendrils from the roof. It was like a mini rainforest. Daniel extended a toe and tested the water flowing through the channel. It was warm, just under body temperature and slightly effervescent. Tempted, he dropped the wrap and stepped down into the pond – bath – whatever.

The water enveloped him, simultaneously soothing and invigorating. He ducked his head under, holding his breath for long moments. Rising to the surface, he rolled onto his back and drifted, eyes closed, as the tension and uncertainty and fear of the previous day seeped away. He remained that way for a long time, brain on hold, thinking of nothing.

Finally he sensed the presence of someone nearby. He peered through half-open eyes and saw Ba'al, with a smirk on his face, standing at the entrance to the room. Daniel jack-knifed his body and stood up in the water.

“Fair morn, Daniel.”

“Yeah. Hi.” He surreptitiously looked around for a towel but couldn’t see any.

“We trust your sleep was peaceful?”

“It was. Thank you.”

Ba'al looked down at him with the faintly amused look on his face which Daniel could never properly place as either condescension or genuine humour. “Our cooks have provided lunch for you on the terrace. If you permit, we shall await you there.”

“Oh – uh, wait…. Lunch?”

“The sun is high in the sky, Daniel. We are glad you were able to find the rest your body needed after the rigours of you journey here.” Ba'al inclined his head and strolled out of the room.

Daniel stood staring at the empty archway, bemused and a little uneasy. He never slept through half the day, even after the most trying missions. Then again, he had been suspended in an unnatural state for, well he didn’t know how long, but that kind of thing had to mess up a guy’s sleep patterns. He splashed up the steps of the pool and hunted for a towel. There was nothing that looked like one, even hiding under the ferns. Puzzled, he stood dripping on the rough stone floor. There weren’t even any shelves or cupboards. Surely every society that engaged in personal bathing possessed the means to dry off? Particularly one that had such lavish baths. A gold fixture on one wall caught his eye. Stylised in the shape of four wavy lines, almost art-deco in design. Cautiously, he reached out and touched it.

From the floor and ceiling, cross-angled to come at him from every direction, delicious warm air wafted around his body, softly drying away the moisture on his skin and hair. Daniel smiled in surprise, lifted his arms and enjoyed the sensation. When he was completely dry and tingly the blowers cut off automatically. He walked back to the bedroom in search of clothing.

Elsh was there, patiently standing with hands clasped in front of him.

“Oh.” Daniel stopped short, aware he was – once again – naked in front of a stranger.

“Fair morn, Daniel Jackson,” Elsh greeted him, face impassive as ever. “My lord god Ba'al bade me to attend to your needs while you are guesting in his home. I have selected some clothes.” He indicated a sea-green shirt and pants laid out on a settee. “Do they please you? I can fetch others if they are unsuitable.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Daniel strode over to the settee and pulled the pants on. “And, thank you, but I don’t need a servant.”

“My lord god Ba'al bids me serve you, Daniel, and so I shall.”

“Right… what else would you do?” Daniel muttered sarcastically. Obviously the guy was still working on that total-obedience-will-be-rewarded-with-a-snake plan. He pulled on the loose shirt and padded out onto the balcony.

The twenty-foot wide expanse of polished marble was bordered by curling wrought-iron balustrades, which supported a shady verandah of flowering clematis and looked out over an elegant jumble of other balconies: isolated gardens clinging to the white walls, ponds, trees and in the distance through a gap between two sections of palace, Daniel caught a glimpse of the main gates. Orange and cumquat trees bloomed in large glazed pots, all heavy with flowers and fruit. Half-hidden in the greenery, Ba'al reclined in a padded couch set about with small tables laden with food.

“The potted fish is particularly good this season,” he commented.

Daniel perched on the end of another couch. He cut a slice of a pie layered with different vegetables and nibbled it bit by bit, aware that Ba'al was watching him with that intense, interested look.

When the pie had finally been consumed, he looked up at the Goa'uld. “So.”

Ba'al’s smile deepened.

“What do you have planned for today? Visiting a school? The elderly? Maybe tour a hospital? Or don’t the people of Tsydon get sick?” Daniel found his irritation building as Ba'al’s stare turned speculative.

“We shall do as We promised, Daniel. You shall record a message to your people and We will despatch it with all haste.”

“You could just send me home, you know,” Daniel replied, a tone of not-wholly-unintentional steel creeping into his voice.

“We do appreciate your frustration, Daniel. We do hope that soon you will see the importance of the task We are undertaking.”

“Well, forgive me if I’m sceptical. Most of your kind that I’ve met have been more interested in trying to kill me, not talking to me.”

“May we enquire exactly who amongst the System Lords you have met, Daniel?”

Daniel poured himself a glass of the cider he was swiftly becoming attached to, and sank back into the couch. “System Lords I have met,” he mused. “Well, there was Ra, as you know.”

“Yes. Tell Us, what do you remember of Ra? He was ever a recluse and difficult to draw into alliances.”

Daniel shrugged. “Well, we met, he killed me, brought me back to life, we chatted, then we blew him up. Not much to say really. Where was I? Ah, yes, then there was Apophis… lyin’, scheming’, no-good-for-nothin’, slimey, over-dressed stylemonger-.” He cut off the rant with a pang in his chest, aware he was suddenly channelling Jack.

Ba’al let out a bright laugh. “Yes, he is one We have never had much time for. Tell Us, Apophis has not been heard of or seen for some time. Do you think We should seek him out and enquire if he will support Our plan for peace?”

Daniel felt his face turn stony. He got up and walked over to the balcony. “He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Ba'al didn’t sound overly upset.

“Well, I doubt even a Goa'uld could survive an uncontrolled descent into Netu on a Hat’ak crawling with Replicators. Do you?”

“No. I would find that improbable.” There was an undertone of glee in Ba'al’s voice.

“In fact, most Goa'uld I’ve met are dead, now,” Daniel bit out, impatience rising. “Sokar, Cronus, Klorel – well, he’s in a jar somewhere, hopefully – Amonet, Hathor. In fact, I’m seeing a pattern here….” He glared at Ba'al.

“Hathor?” Ba'al leaned forward, puzzlement creasing his face. “We had heard a rumour of her return from exile.”

Daniel shrugged and turned back to the view. He wasn’t about to give Ba'al any more information he didn’t already have.

“Well, no matter. We have a number of allies who will stand by Us in Our bid for peace. Including Yu, whom We believe you also have met. To that end,” Ba'al trailed off. He stood and Daniel turned to look at him. “We have communications We must attend to. This evening We would be most pleased if you would grace Us with your presence at a banquet – in your honour – where We may introduce you to the members of Our court and household.”

Daniel sighed, annoyance building in him. “Can’t we just get this over with?”

Ba'al moved to stand in front of him, just a little too close for comfort. “We have heard you are an accomplished diplomat for your people, Daniel. You must appreciate that negotiations such as those We are now engaging in, will take time but the result shall be more than compensatory.”

Daniel leaned back against the balcony. “I don’t seem to have much say in the matter, do I?”

“Ah, but you shall, Daniel. Your involvement is crucial, and I guarantee you shall have many things to say before the completion of our project.”

Daniel frowned, uncertain, but Ba'al turned and walked back into the suite of rooms.

“We shall leave you under the care of Our Consort, Helel, for the day and rejoin you at dinner tonight.” Ba'al swept through the bedroom, caressed the shoulder of a young man standing in the lounge area, and was gone before Daniel could speak.

“Greetings, Daniel Jackson. I am Helel. It is my honour to be escort for my Lord’s treasured guest today.”

“Consort?” Daniel blinked. Unexpected, but not unsurprising. The Goa'uld had always seemed drawn to anyone fair and attractive. Gender boundaries would be no deterrent to them.

“Yes,” Helel answered in a pleasant voice. He stood as tall as Daniel, his slender, toned limbs visible beneath thin cotton pants and a translucent white shirt, its long sleeves slit from the shoulder to drape down to his knees.

“I thought Astarte was Ba'al’s consort?”

“My Lady Goddess is prime Consort of our Lord, of course. I have the honour to be given my Lord’s favour and the position of Companion of the Court.” Helel smiled shyly, long eyelashes batting over green eyes. His auburn hair curled down over his shoulders and glinted here and there with small diamond fancies.

Daniel sat down on a settee and pulled on a pair of soft sandals left for him by Elsh. They fitted perfectly. “Are there other Companions of the Court?” he asked, standing up and regarding the man curiously.

“Yes. At present we are six in number, now Marah has been elevated from the rank of Concubine.” Encouraged by the interested look on Daniel’s face, Helel went on. “The Concubines are six, seven if one includes The Prize.”

“The Prize?”

“One who is most fortunate indeed to be included in such a prosperous household as our Lord’s. Will you walk with me, Daniel? Arrangements have been made for you to record a message to your people.”

“Sure.” Daniel swallowed the next dozen questions on his lips and followed Helel as he walked gracefully out of the room.

Out in the vast corridor, he faltered as the troop of guards who had accompanied him the previous day, stiffened to attention and fell into step behind him. Helel payed no attention to them and indicated to Daniel to join him as he proceeded down the hall.

One man’s honour guard is another man’s prison escort.

Daniel pushed the thought away and focused on his guide. The people they passed all seemed to know him, offering smiles or a polite bow of the head in greeting. They moved through the quiet corridors of the residential wing into other wings increasingly populated with men and women bustling to and fro with the occupied air of people hard at work. Open doors gave Daniel the opportunity to glance in on what looked very much like offices, all humming with activity as people worked at data screens, their benches littered with electronic tablets and piles of bound books, a flotilla of communication balls hovering in mid air.

Helel noticed Daniel’s interest. “They are the administrators of our Lord’s territories. They oversee the trade of food and goods between the settlements and Tsydon. A very involved process, as you can see.”

“How many territories does Ba'al own?” Daniel paused to let a group of six people walk into one of the offices. From the snatches of conversation he caught the familiar dialect of what he had christened Lower Goa'uld – the language of those who kept the empires of the System Lords running. Interesting, because the men and women he had met yesterday in the city all seemed to speak a language that was firmly rooted in Phoenician.

Helel gave a bemused laugh. “Why, Daniel, I am astonished to admit I do not know exactly. My Lord’s planets are many, his territory vast, his devoted people number in millions. I regret I cannot answer your question.” He stopped at the entrance to another room, noticeably quieter and more dimly illuminated than the others. “Here is our Lord’s communications centre.”

Daniel edged past him and into a large circular room, its few occupants framed by open windows along the far wall. A quiet murmur filled the air, stemming from the dozens of tele-balls that hovered, active and bearing many different faces, over banks of recording devices. An attractive woman of middle years left her post and approached them.

“Honoured, gracious ones,” she said, bowing deeply to Helel. “I am Tannin. My Lord’s instructions have been received and all is prepared for you.” She turned to Daniel and bowed again. “Honoured guest of our Lord. The recording apparatus stands ready for you.” She ushered them towards a dimly lit alcove, away from the others in the room.

Taking Daniel’s arm, she manoeuvred him to stand in the centre of the alcove. “We will record your words, Honoured One, and they will be stored for later viewing in a shat’nel. Will the people of your homeworld know how to retrieve the message?” She extended her hand bearing a flat oblong device with a crystal in its centre, very much like the one on which Narim had used to send his plea for help for Tollana.

“Yes, I think they will.” Daniel blinked as Tannin nodded and activated a beam of light that shone down over him.

“Please direct your words here,” she said, indicating a small panel of instruments on one wall. She then bowed her head and backed away. Helel, too, retreated, leaving Daniel in privacy.

He straightened up, hands automatically seeking shelter in pockets that didn’t exist. Self-conscious, he wrapped his arms around his chest and flicked a small smile at the unseen cameras. Any number of things that he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, but considering he didn’t trust Ba'al would keep his word and get the recording to the SGC, let alone keep it out of other System Lord’s hands, he thought carefully for a while before speaking.

“This is Doctor Daniel Jackson. Some, I guess, days ago I was abducted from the streets of New York City. The person behind my abduction was the Goa'uld, Ba'al. I am now in his home city of Tsydon. I am well and unconfined. Apparently, I have the freedom to roam the palace and the city.

“Uh, the reason Ba'al wanted me here…. He says he wants to call a truce with the Tau’ri. He claims he has a number of System Lords allied with him, that they’re all tired of the loss of lives and fighting, and he wants me to broker a treaty between them and us.” Daniel slid a glance over at Helel and Tannin but they appeared to be out of hearing range.

“I can imagine what Jack is saying about now, and I have to agree with him. This is only my second day here, I don’t know what to believe, but Ba'al has allowed this message as a show of good faith, so…. I’d appreciate acknowledgement that the SGC has received this and also, I’d like to know how my favourite major doctor is.

“This is Daniel Jackson, signing off.” He unfolded his arms and half-waved at the recorder. “Bye.”

He sighed, resisting the urge to yell, “Get me the hell out of here.”

Seeing he had finished, Helel and Tannin came forward. Tannin fiddled with the machinery for a moment, then turned and presented a message player to Helel. He activated it and a mini-holographic Daniel popped up, his words audible and exactly as he had said them.

“Is this to your satisfaction, Daniel?” Helel queried.

“Yes, its fine,” Daniel nodded. “How is it going to be delivered?”

“One of our Lord’s ships stands ready to deliver it to a planet where there are known Tok’ra operatives working. My Lord’s warriors will approach the Tok’ra under a sign of truce and request they deliver it to your people.”

“And what proof will I have that it gets delivered?”

“My Lord sends his warriors with a request to the Tok’ra that they return with an answer from your people, Daniel. You shall have your proof as quickly as possible.”

Feeling deeply sceptical, Daniel could only accept the man’s word and hope he was being told the truth.

Helel handed the player back to Tannin and with a respectful bow she summoned one of the palace guard and handed her the message. Daniel watched it disappear out the doorway and wondered if it really would get to its proper destination and bring some measure of comfort to his anxious friends.

 Å

The rest of the afternoon passed in a pleasant tour of the palace. Helel proved to be an enjoyable companion, providing stories of the palace and its occupants as he took Daniel through all manner of rooms, from the busy administration area to the echoing empty throne room with its intricate stained glass designs throwing brilliant colours across the polished floor. Miles of brightly-lit corridors gave on to elegant reception rooms with tables for two to two hundred; kitchens staffed by dozens of cooks, all working feverishly over banks of ovens, open fires and high-tech cookers; workshops of all kinds supporting the smooth running of the vast palace and its plenitude of inhabitants.

As they passed a group of workers on their knees, carefully hand-polishing the inlaid wooden floor of a sitting room on one of the residential floors, Daniel finally voiced a question that had been niggling him for a while.

“All the servants who work here – are they slaves?”

Helel glanced at him, clearly shocked by the idea. “No. Oh, not at all, Daniel. All the good people employed in our Lord’s home are free citizens of Tsydon. They give their labour to their god and are handsomely rewarded with the means to support their families. They are all free to leave His service should they ever wish.”

A middle-aged man nearby caught Daniel looking dubiously at him and smiled. “The Gracious Helel speaks truly, Adon. We are most fortunate to give our service to our god.” He gave Daniel a broad, friendly smile.

“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Daniel replied. “This is all a bit unfamiliar to me.”

“Not possible, Honoured Guest. Fair day to you.” The man smiled and grinned, and as Daniel wandered on after Helel, the man turned to exchange excited whispers with his colleagues.

Helel returned Daniel to his suite in the late afternoon. The rooms felt naturally cool despite the hot air stirring the long curtains along the balcony windows. Kosharta was waiting for them, not very patiently, and shooed Helel out the door before Daniel could thank him for being his guide.

“Enough!” she barked, slamming the door on Helel’s words of farewell. “I have waited long enough. You both must bathe and dress, now, for I will not have my Lord’s guest arrive late for his own feasting.” She shoved a glass of cold liquid at Daniel, then grabbed one arm and towed him toward the bath room.

“Again with the bathing?” Daniel sipped the sour lemon drink. “Oh, that’s nice. I thought Elsh was assigned to attend me?” He slapped the woman’s hands as she attempted to unfasten his pants.

“The Lo’taur must attend his master’s preparations tonight.” She snatched the empty glass out of his hand and yanked open the fastenings on his shirt. Moving behind him, she pulled the shirt off him with one quick movement. “I, of course, being chief housekeeper, have nothing better to do than primp and pamper young humans. She grabbed his right leg, pulled it up and dragged the sandal off his foot.

Daniel hopped wildly for balance, trying not to grab at the Goa'uld as she did the same with the left leg. “I can take my own clothes off…. Hey!” He grabbed but she was too quick and his pants were yanked to his knees. Her firm shove on his shoulder sent him toppling backwards to land on a bench by the pool. His pants were whisked away and Kosharta was striding out of the room before his angry splutters could form into coherent words.

“I shall return in five minutes to dress you,” she called. The outer door slammed, leaving him seething in the silence.

“Who are these people? The Goa'uld I know don’t act like this. Do they?” He padded down the steps into the water and began to lather up.

The Goa'uld he and SG-1 had encountered previously had mostly been interested in extracting information or just plain trying to kill him. They’d never spent time on a Goa'uld’s home planet… well – Hathor excepted, and that situation had never made sense to him. He rinsed off and headed for the blow-dryers. He’d never bought the explanation that Hathor had gone to the considerable effort and expense of reconstructing the SGC merely to fool Jack, Sam and himself into revealing the state of the galaxy’s politics. That was information she could have found with a few well-placed spies in other System Lord’s camps. No – she had been after something else…. He ran his hands through his drying hair and grimaced. The cow had even cut his hair – and he felt again the embarrassment of returning home with a brand new ‘do’ that everyone had noticed.

The outer door slammed again, jerking him out of his reverie. He went back into the suite to find Kosharta impatient and glaring, standing amidst a swathe of pearly grey material laid out on a settee. He walked toward her, naked and uncaring under her critical eye.

“Where are all these outfits coming from?” Daniel ran his hand over the sumptuous fabric, its pattern of dragonflies in flight rising from the weave and highlighted by threads of silver and clusters of moonstones.

“My Lord’s tailors have been working ceaselessly to provide his Guest with the finest examples of their labour since you arrived. She shook out a pair of pants, silkily black and bearing the same woven design as the grey. “Quickly, now.”

Daniel took the pants and pulled them on, the gentle slide of the material against his skin bringing a smile to his face. Kosharta thrust the grey garment at him. Slipping into it, a high collar settling just under his ears, the rich cloth lay lightly on his shoulders and fell to mid-calf length. It was devoid of buttons or other fastenings, but Kosharta homed in on him, slapping his hands out of the way and securing two large, blue enamelled brooches either side of his chest and joining them with a solid gold chain. It kept the garment from flapping open but there was still a good expanse of bare skin on display.

“That’s it?” Daniel frowned.

“These.” She thrust a pair of heavily ornamented sandals at him and managed to attack his hair with a heavy brush as he sat to pull them on.

“Ow. I can brush my own hair, dammit.”

She ignored him, dragged him to his feet and propelled him to the door. She shoved him out into the hallway and into the midst of his guard, then pushed past them all and hurried away.

Daniel blinked self-consciously at the guard. Different faces from those who had escorted him all day. They too were dressed in their finery – a livery of deep purple tunics, leggings and boots, silvery word scabbards flashing in the evening light that slanted through the skylights.

Their leader, a striking woman who stood a couple of inches taller than he, drew her troop to attention with barely a gesture. She bowed deeply to Daniel, her chestnut hair swinging over her shoulder in a thick, tight plait. “Honoured Guest of Our Lord God Ba'al. Allow these humble servants to guide your steps to our Lord’s banquet.”

“Uhm… sure. And, call me Daniel.”

“As you wish, Honoured Guest.” She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “This one is called Resheph, Master of Our Lord’s garrison and commander of the Rephaim, his personal guard.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he said. Daniel walked at her side as she strode along the corridor, the guard falling into step behind them, silent but looming.

“Forgive me for asking, but… are you Jaffa, Resheph?”

She solemnly inclined her head. “I have that honour, Adon.”

“The Rephaim, they seem different to other Jaffa warriors I’ve met.” The old Phoenician word meant ‘shades’, giving these soldiers a slightly more sinister aspect.

“The Rephaim are our Lord’s personal guard on Tsydon. The security of the palace and the home world is our prime function. The Jaffa of your acquaintance have most probably been members of off-world squads. They secure the Lord’s fleet and colonies. Rarely do our two forces unite, except when accompanying our Lord on occasions of state importance.”

“I see.” Something else nagged at him as they passed through the grand entrance hall, walking through the coloured shafts of light cast by the stained glass. “You called me Adon….” The word was another of ancient Phoenician origin, the root of the Greek Adonis, meaning lord.

“I’m not a lord,” he added. For some reason he needed to make that clear, to have people recognise his true status – a human, free of will and giving allegiance only to whom he chose, and an unwilling guest here. For all intents and purposes, still a prisoner of Ba'al.

Resheph looked at him curiously. “It is a title bestowing respect and honour, that is all. Its formal use has long since waned among our people. Some of the workers have referred to you as ‘The Adon’, and it seems to be spreading.”

She halted and Daniel looked away from her guarded expression to find himself before two enormous doors of black marble, each heavily carved with sinuous serpents, writhing, twisting into knots – almost as if they were seeking dominance over each other. Daniel felt his mouth drop open, admiration of the artistry warring with a creeping unease.

The doors swung open, silent and effortlessly despite their obvious weight. Resheph and her Rephaim stepped back, snapped to attention and drew their swords with a glittering ring of steel on steel. They swept the swords forward, arcing around him in a semi-circle to poise, unwavering, over his head in an impressive, somewhat chilling salute.

Å

“All honour be given!”

Daniel started and jerked his head around at the imposing voice. By the open doors a striking woman in an elegant, sweeping black gown stood ready to receive him, her face stern and unforgiving. He froze, uncertain that he wanted to get any nearer to her.

Without glancing at him, she loudly proclaimed, “The esteemed guest of our Lord God Ba'al, Daniel Jackson, Explorer, Emissary of the Tau’ri, Bringer of peace, be welcomed to the presence of our Lord.”

She extended her hand and Daniel inched through the doors, cautiously reaching out his own hand. The woman tucked her hand under his and finally met his eye. “This one is Tanit, Honoured Guest. Allow The Face of Ba'al to escort you to our Lord.”

“Uh, thank you. Hello,” he added belatedly.

Despite being a couple of inches shorter than him, the force of Tanit’s personality seemed to reach out and eclipse everything nearby. As she drew him into the room beyond, Daniel finally became aware of its enormous proportions. Black marble floor spread out like a shiny, solid lake to meet walls of the same slick, black stone that arced upwards into a dome nearly lost in shadows high above. The walls were as heavily carved as the doors; serpents of every size twisted up the rounded walls and in the flickering light of dozens of fires contained by the intricate metal mesh of braziers - standing on poles or hanging from chains that vanished into the shadows of the dome - the snakes came alive, no matter where he turned his head, in the corner of his eye they… moved.

Concentrating on the walls, Daniel didn’t register the only occupant of the room until Tanit halted and dropped to one knee in an elegant curtsey. Turning his head, Daniel saw Ba'al, curled on huge mounds of cushions, a bright smile lighting his face.

“Daniel!” We are greatly pleased to have this feast for you this evening. Come, sit, relax with Us.” Ba'al uncoiled and stood in a manner wholly reminiscent of the murals on the walls.

“Just hope you’re not planning to feast on me,” Daniel muttered under his breath.

Ba'al directed him to a large, pearly grey cushion on his right and Daniel sank, sitting cross-legged, spine stiff – definitely not relaxing.

Tanit faded away into the dim light leaving Ba'al to plop down beside him, happily chatting about his busy day and the tiresome demands of business and politics. Daniel tuned him out, distracted by the – hopefully – imaginary movement on the walls, and by the awful realisation that only the two of them were in this vast place. Surely he hadn’t been dressed and delivered to a dinner with only Ba'al for company?

“I thought your ‘court’ were going to be here?”

“Ah! Come they shall, and We will be most proud to seat them in your presence, my dear Daniel.” Ba'al leaned close to him. “Does our banquet chamber not fill you with wonder?”

“Well… it’s certainly… big. Don’t you think you overdid it with the snakes, though?”

Ba'al grinned and managed to look almost sheepish. “It is a favoured theme of Ours, one that speaks of our ancestors and reminds us of Our humble origins.”

Daniel raised one eyebrow. Ba'al was anything but humble. He looked away and now saw the rows of cushions and low tables arrayed in a fan shape in front of them. Beyond, the imposing doors swung open and Tanit stepped forward, silhouetted by the light outside.

“All honour to our Lord!” Tanit announced. “Cherished Companions of the court of our Lord approach. The Consorts of Ba'al.” She stepped back and bowed to the men and women walking gracefully in single file. Ba'al rose to his feet, smiling, arms outstretched. Daniel rose. He recognised Helel, fourth of the six entering the room. All were dressed totally in black, their clothes exotic, filmy and revealing. Glints of red flashed and sparkled as they moved – firelight catching on the abundant jewellery adorning ears, necks, arms, wrists, ankles, even hair. As they approached, Daniel realised the red came from rubies of all shapes and sizes – breathtaking and radiant. They halted and spread along the first row of seating, some with eyes only for Ba'al, others looking curiously and without malice at Daniel.

Ba'al moved to the woman who had led them in. “Daniel Jackson, We present Anath, first of rank of Our consorts, Our sister and treasured companion.”

Daniel blinked and bowed his head. The woman, petite and raven haired, gave him an assessing look and curtseyed.

Ba'al moved to the next, a young man, barely past twenty Daniel guessed, slender and elegant in a long kilt and wispy shirt. “Second of our heart, Yarikh, lamp of Heaven. Yahikh is also Our chief astronomer.”

“Third of rank, Our daughter, Arsay, who lightens Our spirits with her presence.” This girl, of medium height, smiled at Daniel with brilliant green eyes that pierced right through his defences and had him smiling back.

“Fourth is Helel, Light Bringer and Our joy.” Helel wore only a gauzy pair of pants that didn’t quite reach his hipbones, and a black lace scarf wound about his neck, its long length trailing down his back and supporting a two-inch wide pear-shaped ruby at his throat. He smiled happily at Daniel, then at Ba'al with obvious love in his eyes.

“Fifth, Nikkal, the fruit of Our earth, and Sixth, Marah, the bounty of Our waters.”

Both beautiful women darted shy glances at Daniel, then sat in a settling cloud of black gossamer silks. Ba'al drew Daniel back to their own cushions and the doors swung open once more.

“All honour to our Lord.” Tanit heralded the arrival of another group of men and women. “Prized Concubines of our Lord.” This time she accompanied the procession to the seating and introduced each as they curtseyed to Ba'al and Daniel.

“Mavet, the sterile one; S,umul, mother of eagles; Tallay, girl of rain; Melqart, keeper of the city; Pidray, girl of light; Ishat, bitch of the gods; and Prize.”

The four women and three men settled in the row behind the consorts. All were dressed in black and adorned with rubies as the consorts were, although the costumes were more revealing and the jewels fewer.

Daniel glanced at Ba'al who was beaming proudly at his, well, harem seemed an appropriate word. “I’m curious about the titles of your, uh, concubines. Are they literal terms or just decorative references?”

“They are quite literal, Daniel.” Ba'al smiled at him, glad he was taking an interest. “Mavet, poor boy, despite his beauty and charm is indeed quite sterile. Melqart, in addition to serving Our needs is Our chief functionary to Our people in the city. Tallay… well, what can we say but - lovely when wet.”

“And ‘Bitch of the gods’, ‘Prize’?”

“Mmmm, Ishat – her name means fire, you know She was a spy in the employ of Anubis. We bought her from Bastet who had apprehended her. Her many talents are quite… extraordinary.” Ba'al sent Ishat a rather lecherous wink. “Prize….”

Daniel followed his glance at the young man, last in both line and favour. Though very handsome, he wore only skimpy black pants. His feet were bare and a thick black cord circled his brow, keeping back the long, curly blond hair. He alone of all the concubines and consorts wore no rubies, only a gold armband bearing Ba'al’s symbol.

“Prize is a recent addition to Our household. We accepted him as a pledge of good conduct from Morrigan, to seal a business agreement between Us. When that business is concluded to Our satisfaction, he shall be given his name and earn a higher ranking within the Companions.”

Daniel flushed with outrage. “You can’t… that’s… to take a person as a hostage for a business deal, to strip him of his name, his rights…. It’s barbaric and I don’t see how my people will ever agree to a treaty while you treat humans like that.”

Ba'al stared back at him, surprised by Daniel’s vehemence. He scowled, then his face brightened. “But Our kind accept this type of arrangement quite freely, Daniel. These are nothing more than traditions We have followed for many thousands of years.”

Daniel felt a cold chill settle in the base of his spine. “Our kind?”

“Ah. We see your confusion, Daniel. All members of Our court are, of course, of Our species.”

“You’re all Goa'uld.” Numbly, Daniel looked out at them, sitting chatting to each other. “All….” Fool. You utter idiot. The voices…. Even Helel. Never assume. How many times has Jack said, never assume.

Ba'al clapped his hands together. “Shak kree!”

As one, the eyes of every person in the room – barring Daniel – glowed a hot, bright white. Even far back in the dimness by the door, two eyes glowed – Tanit, Face of Ba'al.

“You don’t… do that thing… with your voice,” Daniel said weakly. He was torn between relief that humans were not being enslaved to serve as Ba'al’s personal companions, and the fact that for every Goa'uld in the room, there was still a human soul buried beneath their snaky presence.

“No, it is quite hard on the throat. We reserve that for yelling at Our Jaffa or posturing with other System Lords.” Ba'al was trying not to laugh at him. “Do not fear, Daniel. Your virtue is completely safe while you are a guest of my home.”

“And when I’m no longer a guest?”

“Then, you will be Our emissary, bearing Our proposal for a treaty to the Tau’ri.” Ba'al leaned close and patted his hand. “Be assured, Daniel, we have no intention of making you a host, despite your charming looks.”

“Well, that makes me feel so much better.” Sarcasm was always the quickest defence. He drew his hand away and wished the flowing frock coat provided a little more cover for his exposed chest.

Ba'al grinned wickedly, then loudly called, “Jamel akat!”

Bring forth the feast, Daniel automatically translated as a number of doors around the room opened, admitting a stream of servants bearing huge platters, steaming tureens and vast carving boards, all laden with aromatic heaps of food. The servants descended upon the guests, loading the low tables with mouth-watering varieties of soups, pulses, stews, pastries, stuffed vegetables and flatbreads.

Daniel felt his stomach rumble as the tables in front of him and Ba'al were filled with platters of savour appetizers, all small and intricately designed. The servants withdrew and a hush descended. He looked up, surprised to see no-one eating. The Companions all sat demurely, faces trained on Ba'al, and Ba'al was staring toward the main doors, eager expectation in his eyes.

The doors swung open. Tanit emerged from the shadows, her voice ringing out and echoing off the domed ceiling.

“Bow down, all, for you now are in the presence of your goddess, the Most Gracious and Devine, Astarte.”

With a rustle of silks every member of Ba'al’s Companions leant forward, reverently pressing their faces to the cushions. Ba'al stood and after a small internal battle over showing any kind of deference to a Goa'uld, politeness won out and Daniel also rose to his feet.

Astarte appeared in the open doorway, gliding gracefully, regally, past the prostrate Tanit. A large procession of people followed her, but Daniel was unable to stop himself staring at Astarte. She was draped in a diaphanous red gown that floated around her body like an amorphous mist. The bodice of her gown stretched from her right hip to left shoulder, leaving her right side bare, her breast quivering enticingly with her swaying movement. Her hair was coiled in intricate plaits piled high up on her head to spill in bouncing curls from a crown of delicate gold filigree and glittering black diamonds. Her hands were cupped together over her heart, her eyes fixed on Ba'al. As she neared, Ba'al stepped out to greet her, kissing her hands and murmuring adoring comments. He guided her to sit on the other side of Daniel, who slowly sank back down to his cushions – now sandwiched between two Goa'uld as well as being surrounded by them.

Astarte’s entourage silently settled around Ba'al’s Companions, a sea of young, very beautiful men and women dressed in the same diaphanous red as their goddess. Warily, Daniel turned to Astarte and found her already staring at him, gaze flickering over his face as if drinking in every aspect of his features.

“Is it you?” Her soft voice was barely audible.

“Beloved, this is Our guest, Daniel of the Tau’ri.” Ba'al leaned around Daniel, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder. “He visited your temple, yesterday,” he prompted.

Astarte nodded slowly, her piercing green eyes never leaving Daniel’s. She extended her cupped hands and he tentatively reached out, accepting the small object she reverently deposited in his hand.

It was a shell, a small murex shell, only five inches long. Intrigued, Daniel turned it in his fingers, then looked at Astarte. “The symbol of life after death,” he said, identifying the iconography of the shell. He covered his bemusement with a smile of thanks and she beamed with pleasure.

At a signal from Ba'al, the assembled Companions and courtiers began to eat and a burble of conversation rose up around them. Daniel settled back, toying with the shell while Ba'al plied Astarte with food. The inside of the shell bore traces of the purple pigment that had made the Phoenician empire so famous on Earth. That the Goa'uld had also adopted its symbolic representation of life after death was not surprising, given their addiction to the sarcophagus and its healing powers. Although, he reflected - as Ba'al pressed a plate of savoury morsels into his hand – there was a difference between the Goa'uld’s never-ending life – immortality – and life after death. He frowned, and wondered again about the human, mortal, Eshmun, revered by two immortal Goa'uld.

Music drifted over the gathering from a small group of lute and harp players Daniel spotted over against one wall. He ate, finding the food beautifully cooked and incredibly tasty. Ba'al continued to fill his plate with samples from the platters. Astarte ate sparingly, urged on by Ba'al to try this dip, taste that pastry. The Goa'uld’s affection for his goddess was undeniable, and in humans, Daniel would have found it endearing. Between two Goa'uld it was – unnerving.

Finding Astarte’s eyes on him again, he wrenched his eyes off the diamond pendant dangling from a piercing in her naked breast and decided to dig for a bit of information. “May I ask how long you have been Ba'al’s consort?”

“Eternal is our bond,” she intoned with a sudden flash of passion. “Endless is our love. We are as one from the dawn of life to the end of days.”

“Oh. Uh, that’s a long time.” He resisted the urge to ask how long her host had been trapped with her. “The men in your entourage – are they also priests?”

“Only a woman holds the power to serve as Our priestess, Daniel of the Tau’ri. The devotion of a man We will always accept when offered freely.” She looked over at the men in red. “They are without the gift of life, but We love them with all Our hearts.”

“Without the gift…? You mean they’re…?” Eunuchs. He stilled the automatic reaction to pull his legs up to his chest and glanced at Ba'al – unconcernedly munching on a skewer of marinated meat and fruit.

“Our loves,” Astarte ended for him. “We love all, We gift all with Our love and receive their love in return. Of course, the code of life is reserved for He who has Our heart in his hand.”

Code of life. The term chilled Daniel as surely as if an Arctic blast had swept the room. She’s a queen…. The urge to bolt nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted to get away, now, as far and as fast as he could. Astarte leaned down to the table, the drift of red gossamer clothing around her bringing such a vivid flash of Hathor’s red hair as she leant down, her lips pressing to his, her body heavy over his….

“Are you well, Daniel?” Ba'al’s deep voice rumbled in his ear, making him start and come back to the present.

“Fine. Fine. Just – fine.” And wasn’t it some cosmic irony – probably the same one that had dogged his whole life – that in Earth’s history the mythological Phoenician goddess Astarte was so closely linked with the Egyptian goddess Hathor that they both bore the same crown of horns cradling the sun? Desperate for a distraction, he turned to Ba'al. “Do you have priests too, or does the modern all-powerful god not need them these days?” He vaguely recalled a group of men chanting and surrounded in incense in the room he had first woken in.

Ba'al rolled his eyes and grimaced theatrically. “We do indeed have priests, Daniel. They convey Our wishes to Our people in matters of devotion. We do, however, find them a bit of a bore, to be honest with you. We find the endless rituals and prayers rather tedious after so many centuries. They’re not very inventive in their praises of Us, you see.” He sighed dramatically and gave his attention to the intricate desserts that had arrived at their table, borne by a team of four servants.

“Yes, it must be hard to bear,” Daniel gave up on the small talk and reached for a drink, his appetite gone.

The feast continued on, the Companions freely mixing with Astarte’s priestesses and eunuchs. When the last course had been removed from the tables more musicians joined the small ensemble and they struck up a lively harmony. More braziers were lit around the room, and in a clashing fanfare dancers raced into the chamber from several different doors. Dressed all in body-hugging black decorated with streaks of red, the dancers came together in enthusiastic, graceful movements - winding together then apart, in pairs and groups, splitting away to send their bodies soaring through the air in spectacular leaps, then caught up and flung high, landing with the ease of a bird.

The assembled Goa'uld cheered and applauded their approval as the dancers spun around them, weaving elegant patterns with their bodies, poising for long moments before throwing themselves into new and more complicated movements. It was a mixture of acrobatics and dance that Daniel found utterly compelling and a welcome diversion from the company he was in.

For nearly two hours the dance continued without pause. Daniel sat, drinking slowly but steadily from the glass in his hand, hardly seeing it being refilled by unseen servants. After quite some time, he realised with a start that the dancers were not wearing body suits as he had first thought, but their naked, lean bodies were covered only in paint. Those bodies whirled past in flashes of red on black; only intermittently did a breast or penis become visible in the uncertain, flickering light.

When it was over, he applauded loudly, distractedly wishing it could continue indefinitely. Then Astarte was on her feet, Ba'al rising to escort her out of the dining chamber. She looked down on Daniel, brushed a caressing hand under his chin, then swept out with her train of red-clad people following.

Ba'al stood over him, one hand extended to help him rise. As Daniel got his feet under him and stood, he realised he wasn’t altogether sober.

“A successful evening, do you not think so, Daniel?”

“It was very enjoyable and interesting. Please give my compliments to the chefs and the dancers. They must have worked very hard tonight.”

“Our staff are most talented and they will be pleased to hear your approval.” Ba'al steered him toward the door, the Companions smiling and nodding at them as they went.

They ambled slowly back through the now-quiet corridors of the palace, Daniel frequently removing his arm from Ba'al’s steadying grip. At the door to his suite he tried to slip in quickly but Ba'al was somehow already inside and making himself comfortable on a settee before Daniel could form a protest.

Daniel poured himself a large glass of water from a pitcher by the bed, then turned to stare at Ba'al, speculation heavy on his mind.

“You know, seeing you tonight, with all your adoring ‘Companions’ and servants and priests and whatever… I have a hard time believing you would want to give up any part of the power you have as a System Lord.”

“Why would we give up part of Our power, Daniel?” Ba'al cocked an eyebrow at him, that faint amusement back on his face.

“Well, surely a peace treaty will curtail the expansion of your empire. No new planets to conquer, pillage their resources, etcetera. Will you be content with what you have now, with seeing what other System Lords have - what the Tau’ri have – and resist the urge to just take what you want?”

Ba'al laughed and stretched his arms along the back of the seat, lounging carelessly, confident in his power and position. “Daniel, this is what attracted you to Us the first time We saw you. You played the part of servant so well, but at the same time you fought your own battle, kept up your deception when faced with the unpleasant truths that were revealed by Us, your enemy. Always, you kept your composure and thought of the grand design of the universe around you.”

Daniel sat down, well away from the Goa'uld and patiently waited. He felt in his bones – right from the start - that Ba'al’s story was at best not the whole truth, at worst a complete lie. He needed to know what was going on.

“Just tell me. What’re you really planning?”

Ba'al studied him for a while, then nodded, coming to some kind of internal conclusion. He stood and paced slowly around the suite, hands clasped behind his back. “You are correct, Daniel. While Our desire for peace is most certainly Our prime aim, We did withhold one key fact from you. We do want a cessation of hostilities amongst the System Lords, of that be assured. You were at the summit, you heard the proposal from Osiris to join with Anubis and end the fighting. We do not believe that once under the control of Anubis, he will not seek total dominance over all System Lords.”

Ba'al paused and looked at Daniel, his expression earnest. “You do not know of Anubis, but take Our word that he is a formidable and unforgiving master. He will gain total dominion over all Goa'uld and then, well, Our lives will not be pleasurable under his rule. Nor will yours. He will not see the Tau’ri free and moving about the galaxy. He will have you under his control, or you – and any other Goa'uld or Jaffa that oppose him – will die. We do not wish this to happen.”

Daniel nodded; the assessment was in accordance with what the Joint Chiefs and the Tok’ra had concluded after his return from his undercover mission. “So, you don’t want peace between the Goa'uld and the Tau’ri,” he said flatly, unrealistic disappointment filling him.

“No! No, Daniel, We do want peace between Our peoples, now more than ever. But, We did fail to mention one key part of Our plan.” Ba'al resumed pacing, Daniel tracking him as he moved in and out of his vision. “We do not believe our treaty will be successful without a figurehead in supreme control of any alliance We form.”

Daniel snorted a laugh. “Why does this not surprise me? You want to be the one in charge. Of course.”

“With all modesty, Daniel, We are the most qualified for the position. We have the greatest territory, We have the best alliances with the largest number of System Lords. We feel sure that when faced with the choice of rule by Anubis and leadership from Ourselves, they will side with Us. Believe me, Daniel, the outcome will be the same as I promised from the start – peace between the System Lords and the Tau’ri. And an end to the fighting and dying.”

“So, who’s with you? You must have some idea about which System Lords will sign up on your side.”

“We have two partners confirmed in Our plan, and many others are already considering Our proposals.” Ba'al stopped right in front of Daniel, dropped to his knees and placed a hand on his knee. “We beg you to believe Us, Daniel. It has been the way of the Goa'uld for millennia to be ruled by one supreme System Lord. With Ra gone, We feel We can take up the mantle of responsibility and lead both Our peoples into a new era of prosperity.”

The sincerity seemed to bleed out of the Goa'uld and Daniel wanted to believe, but always there was a part of him that questioned. Ba'al saw his hesitance, smiled and rose to his feet.

“We will leave you to your rest and We hope Our words will reveal their truth to you.” He turned toward the door. “Tomorrow night there will be a celebration of great significance to the people of this city – the humans as well as the Goa'uld. We would desire that you attend as well, Daniel. The more you see Us living with Our people as we truly do, the more we believe you will see Us for what We truly are.”

Ba'al stopped at the door. “Sleep well. We wish your dreams to be real and illuminating.”

Å

Author's Note:

As I was writing this I realised some aspects of the above chapter may have been influenced by a chapter in the fic Bane of all Mankind by D.  So, thanks D, for the inspiration.  I recommend you read Bane, it's a cracking good story with great team situations, but be aware it is classified as slash (non-graphic).

Fic by D

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~Tsydon~Four - Eshmun Night

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