A frantic house servant met Egan as soon as he walked into the castle. Lord Kentigern requested his presence immediately in his quarters.

Egan bowed to the servant, assuring him that he would comply. Walking up the flight of stairs to the royal wing of the castle gave Egan time to ponder the reason for his summons. As of late, the only reason his brother requested his presence was to gloat over one thing or another. These meetings never went well, Egan realized, rapping on the door to his brother’s suite of rooms.

The door opened moments later to reveal Kentigern’s personal servant, Oran. "My Lord," Oran said, bowing deeply, relief crossing his ancient features. "Lord Kentigern is not well. He has yet to rise from bed this morning. Please talk to him. You must see that he is well."

"Oran, I will take care of my brother, fear not. Please leave us alone. We must speak."

"Yes, my Lord. I shall. Call if you require anything. I shall wait just outside the door." A breath later and Oran was outside, the door closing behind him.

Egan shook his head in amazement and strode to his brother’s private chamber.

Stepping inside, Egan could tell that something was wrong, very wrong. The scent of death hung thick in the air. "Kentigern?" Egan called, praying that he was not too late. The room was dark, the light from the main chamber barely cutting a path to the large bed.

A weak reply answered and Egan stepped forward cautiously, moving toward the windows to draw the thick fabric back to allow some natural light to enter the room. The darkness of the day, though, did not help to lighten the room.

Squinting through the half-light, he could see his brother’s form huddled on the bed, hidden beneath mounds of covers. Kentigern was muttering something, just under his breath. Egan stepped closer, leaning down to catch the words before they faded into the darkness.

"What is it, brother? What has happened?" Egan asked, hoping his brother could hear him and understand. Egan couldn’t understand what had happened. His brother had been in good health the day before, laughing and joking with his wife, enjoying a hearty evening meal. For something to come on this suddenly was unthinkable.

"Egan…"Kentigern whispered, his voice barely loud enough to rise to meet Egan’s ears. "You came."

"Yes, my brother. I am here. What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing, my brother, nothing at all. I am a dead man. The raven visited last night. I do not have much longer to live."

"Have you spoken with Lady Morgana to try and intercede with the Gods? Perhaps she can buy you some time…" Egan suggested, grasping at straws he didn’t even believe were true.

"If her intercession has not worked yet, then I do not believe it shall happen in my lifetime, brother." A silent cough wracked his brother’s body leaving him gasping for breath.

"Morgana has been here and she was unable to help you?" Egan was surprised

"She said she would try to offer a sacrifice to appease the Gods. Oran reports that a sacrifice of the highest order had been offered and refused by the Gods. Once she returns, I will be able to say my final farewell to her."

"There must be something more we can do," Egan said, a measure of panic finding its way into his heart. It was happening again, just as it had happened to his father years before. Would he be next? How long would it be until he too fell ill to this strange malady?

"Egan, be calm. Now that I am gone, you will be crowned Lord of Meath. Rule as I would have," Kentigern said, his breath leaving in a whoosh.

"Kentigern!" Egan yelled, reaching down to feel for his brother’s pulse, to feel the gentle rising and fall of his brother’s chest—anything to indicate that he was still alive. Under his fumbling fingers, Egan felt a light, thready pulse and his sigh of relief was loud in the enclosed room.

Egan quickly found his feet, racing out to the hallway where he had left his brother’s servant. "Oran," Egan began, a plan forming in his mind. "Remain with Lord Kentigern until Lady Morgana returns. When she comes to my brother, you must come and find me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Oran said, puzzlement across his face.

"What are you to do?" Egan asked, wanting confirmation from the frightened house servant.

"Find you when Lady Morgana returns to her husband."

"Yes. Do not forget. It is very important," Egan said, rushing off toward the stairs.

"My Lord," Oran called after him. "Where shall you be?"

"In the family library, Oran. Come find me in the library."

Egan pored over the books, looking, searching for something that had struck his mind while he stood over his brother’s dying body two hours previously.

His research had only deepened his suspicions. There had been a number of unexplained deaths—first within those serving in the temple service—priests and priestesses alike—then among the nobles, and then his father. Over the years, such unexplained deaths had continued to occur, but they were few and far between. These deaths always happened in pairs. Most had been explained by a quickly killing illness, a plague brought on by the Gods because of their displeasure. Each time, the sacrifice of a small child had helped to stop the killing.

This time, though, no child had been sacrificed. However, there had been one death—Turlough, at the hands of Lady Morgana.

Going back through the records, Egan made one further discovery: there had been no strange deaths until after Morgana arrived. Somehow, all of these deaths started and ended with her.

"My Lord," Oran’s breathless entreaty sounded throughout the cavernous room.

"Yes, Oran?" Egan said, rising to meet the servant halfway.

"Lady Morgana is with Lord Kentigern and she has requested a party of armed guards accompany her to the stone ring."

"How many?" Egan asked, his eyes narrowing as he considered all his options. He needed to move quickly, but it appeared that Lady Morgana was moving even faster than he had originally anticipated.

He would not underestimate her again.

"Twenty. She asked for twenty to accompany her. Half of those who accompanied her to search for the rebel."

"Very well, Oran," Egan said, patting the elderly servant on the shoulder. "Please see to any of Lord Kentigern’s requests. I will also accompany Lady Morgana. I must prepare to depart."

"Yes, my Lord," Oran said, bowing and turning quickly to race back to the upstairs chamber. He hesitated just inside the door, turning back to look at Egan, sending him a searching look. "My Lord, are you the new Lord of Meath?"

Egan’s head came up quickly, surprise filtering across his face. His tone was sharper than he intended it to be. "Why do you ask? Is Lord Kentigern dead?"

"No, my Lord," Oran said, his words laced through with worry. But as he continued, strength found its way back into his voice. "I just…I know that Lord Kentigern will not make it through the afternoon. As we stand here, Lord Kentigern has probably already passed on."

"Why do you say that?"

"It is well known that when there is one death, another shall occur. I had hoped it wouldn’t be Lord Kentigern."

Egan was confused. The servants were expecting someone else to die? How did they know something that he had only just figured out? "What do you mean?"

"It was only a matter of time before she came for him too. It was the same with your father. They thought they were in love," Oran said, his words echoing strangely thought the room. "It was not love that she was seeking. It was something more, something much more."

"What was she after?" Egan tried to keep the surprise and astonishment from his voice, but was unable.

"Call it what you like. Some call it power, others the breath of life. Either would be accurate," Oran said, pausing before he offered his final piece of advice. "I tried to warn Lord Kentigern when he was a young man, but he would not listen, You, though, are different. You would do best to heed my warning. Beware of Lady Morgana. She is not who or what she seems."

"That much I already know," Egan said, his voice quiet and solemn.

"Then you do not need my warnings, my Lord. If I may," Oran said, bowing in respect, "I must prepare my Lord’s body for burial. It is the last act of respect to the former Lord of Meath I must perform."

Standing speechless in the doorway to the library, Egan pondered the conversation he had just had with Oran. It confirmed his worst fears, but also bolstered his own determination. He had to do something for O’Neill. If he had to guess, O’Neill was next in line.

Egan walked with the group toward the Stargate. Lady Morgana and Jack O’Neill were in the lead, speaking quietly to each other. The lightly falling snow helped to muffle any sound that may have carried to his ears. Every now and then, Morgana’s arm would link with O’Neill’s and her laughter would float to where Egan walked beside Hywel.

For a woman who had just lost her husband, Morgana did not look upset. She had shed a few tears as the servants removed Kentigern’s quickly stiffening body from his chambers, but those had immediately dried once they were on the trail leading to the Stargate.

Her actions only convinced Egan more fully of her traitorous nature, especially toward his brother and the people of Meath.

They were nearing the Stargate, the ruins just ahead, the cold weather providing motivation for a quicker pace through the foliage. As they approached the clearing, O’Neill stepped forward, leading the way to the dialing device standing several yards from the ancient stone structure. Egan took a moment to gaze around, squinting through the softly falling snow as the valley below slowly changed its color. Much to Egan’s surprise, O’Neill’s voice carried through the clearing toward him, causing him to turn immediately at the sound.

"Egan," O’Neill called out, standing just before the dialing device.

"Yes, my Lord?" Egan asked, moving steadily toward him. O’Neill had had no desire to speak with him these past several days, why now?

"Egan, in case you must come for us, you need to know where we are. I want to show you the symbols to the planet where we are going." O’Neill looked briefly at Morgana before he continued. "Lady Morgana suggested leaving the information with someone at the castle. I’d rather leave it with you."

"Thank you," Egan said simply, bowing in respect. There was still something of O’Neill left, barely an ember, but something was there. But if the man was like anything like himself, Egan knew that O’Neill would stick by his word, his promise, and his vow that he had uttered before the crowd. It was the Warrior’s Way. O’Neill’s word was his bond. He would follow through even if it meant his death. Egan didn’t want it to come to that.

"It’s very simple," O’Neill said, turning to the device before them, pulling Egan closer. O’Neill had a small piece of paper in his hand to which he referred. "These are the coordinates of the two planets that we’re going to check out. We’re going to this one first," O’Neill said, pointing to the top grouping of symbols. "I don’t know what’s it’s called and it doesn’t really matter. All you have to do is push the seven symbols in order and then press the center dome of the DHD. The gate will do the rest. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Egan nodded, matching the symbols on the paper with the ones carved on the device.

"Good, because I don’t have the time to explain anything else. Lady Morgana’s in a hurry to get moving. Just watch what I do," O’Neill said, slowly pressing the symbols in order. As soon as he touched the center dome, a plume of water shot out from the surface of the gate, eventually settling back into the confines of the stone ring, shimmering like the water upon the surface of a lake.

"And you merely step through the water?" Egan asked, his eyes wide. The rest of the group had stepped back several paces as soon as the gate activated, panic etched into their faces. As warriors, however, they stood their ground as best they could when faced with the unknown.

"Basically," O’Neill nodded, stepping carefully around the dialing device, watching for the rocks under his feet. "It’s not really water, you’re actually looking at the event horizon of a wormhole, but I’m sure that Carter would—" His words cut off abruptly, a loud moan replacing them, as he crumpled to the ground, his hands clutching his head.

"My Lord," Egan exclaimed, rushing to the fallen man’s side. As soon as Egan reached O’Neill, the man was already coming around, trying to straighten himself out. He was having difficulty getting his feet under himself, Egan noted. Taking one of O’Neill’s arms, Egan helped to steady the man, bringing him to his feet. After a minute, O’Neill felt strong enough to stand on his own, although he was pale and shaking.

"Thanks, Egan. Must not keep the Lady waiting," O’Neill said with a half-smile, the humor never reaching his eyes. Morgana was standing at the top of the Stargate stairs, her eyes flashing in anger. O’Neill shuffled up the stairs, gesturing for the rest of the party to follow.

Egan watched them step through the pool of standing water, disappearing from his sight until only Hywel was left standing at his side. Egan was convinced he would not see many of those warriors again. They were going to an unknown planet armed with knives and swords.

Just what awaited them, Egan did not know.

They turned, starting to walk back the way they had come, when the gate closed with a final snap-hiss. Egan looked back, staring at the rock face. It was only then that a sense of dread filled his belly. The one man who could probably help them the most was not permitted to remember and he wasn’t even armed, going to battle with only his wits and the little strength he had remaining.

Egan sighed deeply, turning back to where Hywel waited patiently, standing beside the ruins at the entrance to the trail.

They were gone.

His brother was dead.

The people of Meath needed his guidance—especially now.

Egan had never felt more alone than he did right now, standing in the Stargate clearing with the snow falling gently around him, quieting every noise, every sound, with a blanket of white.

Egan shook off the feeling, shoving the paper from O’Neill deep into a pocket. He had other things to do besides think about O’Neill, Egan said to himself. He was Lord of Meath. His brother was dead and Egan had just let the murderer—his brother’s own wife—step through a doorway to another planet.

Such were the times, he thought, stepping beside his friend and companion.

"My Lord, are you all right?" Hywel asked, concern filling his voice.

"Yes, Hywel. I am fine. We must get back for my first official duty as Lord of Meath. My brother’s funeral is tonight and I must not be late. Come, let us walk."

"Yes, my Lord. As you wish," was Hywel’s only reply before the forest and the snow obscured all traces of their presence in the clearing.

Morning came quickly. After an eventful and emotionally charged day, SG1 found themselves hurriedly preparing for a rescue mission. Into the late hours of the night, they had sat, along with Jacob Carter, planning and preparing for the fight that might lie ahead.

Much still remained uncertain—there were too many variables to guess at just what could happen, what might happen. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Jacob called it a night, the group finally deciding on the best plan of attack on their newest ally.

A few hours after their heads hit the pillow in their on-base quarters, they met in the gateroom, geared up, and ready to go. They were a motley bunch, Jacob thought, looking critically at the three standing before him. Both Sam and Daniel had dark circles under their eyes, the strain and lack of sleep finally taking its toll on them both. Even Teal’c was showing signs of stress and strain, although not as obviously as his human companions. His eyes were ever watchful, though, taking in their appearance and measuring it against what he knew about them, drawing his own carefully formed conclusions.

General Hammond stepped briskly into the gateroom, the frown on his face deepening when he caught his first glimpse of the two members of SG1.

"Major Carter, Doctor Jackson, are you up for this mission? If not we can postpone it a few hours," Hammond suggested.

Sam and Daniel’s response was immediate.

"No, we’re fine."

"No, sir. We’d rather just get underway."

Hammond eyed them critically much in the same way that Jacob had a few minutes previously. "Very well, people. From the latest MALP readings this morning, it’s started snowing on Ildanach. Good luck and God speed. Bring him home."

"Yes, sir" Carter said, stepping up beside Jacob as Hammond gestured for the gate technician to start dialing. "That’s exactly what we intend on doing."

Teal’c was positioning FRED, loaded down with various essential items, at the base of the ramp. A feeling of eager anticipation filled the air of the gateroom. They had finally broken through their mental barricades. They finally had a purpose once again and this time they intended on fulfilling their mission objective whatever the cost.

This time they would bring Jack O’Neill home.

Daniel Jackson stepped out onto the ground of Ildanach as a gust of wind swirled the lightly falling snow around his head, his glasses fogging instantly from the rush of cold air. He pulled the glasses from his face, folding them neatly, and tucking them into a pocket. Small clouds of water vapor misted from his mouth with every breath.

Daniel stepped carefully from the Stargate platform, allowing Teal’c and FRED enough room to emerge from the wormhole. He wasn’t in the mood to be trampled by a Jaffa or the loaded FRED. He was just glad Teal’c had volunteered to take it through. He always had problems getting it to do exactly what he wanted. Teal’c, though, never had a problem. He probably just gave it the Jaffa version of the evil eye and it fell into place, Daniel thought wryly, taking a moment to gaze at his surroundings.

The scenery before him was vastly different than it had been, but in many ways the same. The light coating of snow gave the planet a serenity that hadn’t existed before. The peacefulness that he had first observed was still present, however, and he took a deep breath, letting the calmness fill him. The perfect white snow covered the darkness and the secrets in a layer of outward pureness.

Sam had moved out to stand beside the DHD, her weapon pointed at the tree line ahead, her eyes efficiently roving the area, looking for anything that moved. She was playing the good little soldier routine, Daniel thought to himself, smiling humorlessly. He had tried to pull her aside last night to talk to her, to see how she was doing after Janet had broken through with the Tok’ra memory device, pulling the memories that had been buried back to the surface. It had been more difficult with Sam for some reason, Daniel recalled. Teal’c’s memories were restored quickly, but Sam was another story.

It had taken the combined efforts of Janet and Jacob to figure out the problem. Daniel had been half-asleep by the time they had figured it out. It had something to do with the memories of Jolinar. Apparently, they were confusing the Tok’ra memory device. Go figure, Daniel thought, chuckling to himself, nothing ever goes according to plan.

Sam was feeling guilty. He knew that. It was the same way he felt. Out of all the people to whom this could have happened, it had to be Jack. Life was funny that way and it apparently had a very cruel sense of humor, Daniel thought, picking his way across the open area before him. It was even more treacherous than before, the uneven terrain hidden by the snow.

It wasn’t enough that Jack got left behind for months in Iraq and that horrible things happened to the ones he loved. Someone or something loved to see Jack suffer.

"Hey, Sam," Daniel called, approaching his friend from behind. With the way she was acting, he didn’t want to end up on the wrong end of her P90.

"Yes, Daniel?" Sam asked without turning.

"See anything?"

"If I had, I wouldn’t have let you come tromping across the rocks," Sam said, her tone matter-of-fact. "You make as much noise as a troop of elephants."

"Thanks, Sam. I’ll make a note to lose a little weight once we get back home. Maybe I’ll only sound like a pack of hippopotami the next time." If she wanted sarcasm, Daniel was happy to provide.

Sam looked back, an apologetic expression crossing her face. She must have realized how surly she had sounded. "I’m sorry, Daniel. I’m just a little uptight."

"No kidding," Daniel said sliding up next to her as the wormhole closed with a snap-hiss. Daniel glanced back, watching as Teal’c and Jacob carefully maneuvered themselves and FRED down the Stargate stairs. Teal’c’s eyes, in addition to monitoring FRED, were scanning the horizon. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam turned to him, sadness filling her blue eyes. "I just can’t believe everything that’s happened. I can’t believe that we trusted these people and just left the Colonel behind. It’s unthinkable." Sam paused, drawing her thoughts together, her forehead creasing in concentration. "In some ways, I don’t know what I’m going to say to him once we find him. How do you apologize for something like this?"

Daniel turned to gaze across the snow-encrusted ground. "I don’t know, Sam. It probably involves a lot of groveling." He turned back to her, offering a half-hearted smile. "And I’m good at groveling. Well, at least that’s what Jack always says."

"Yeah, I remember," Sam said quietly, smiling wistfully. "I just hope we’re not too late."

"Me too," Daniel said, as Jacob and Teal’c finally stepped close.

"Teal’c how are you doing?" Sam asked, squinting up through the snow to gaze at the stoic Jaffa.

"I am fine, Major Carter," Teal’c said.

"No adverse reaction this time?"

"Nothing I can discern at this time."

"Dad?"

"What, Sam?" Jacob asked, turning his attention away from the tree line and to his daughter’s questioning gaze.

"How are you feeling? Teal’c had an adverse reaction when he was here the last time. We thought it might have something to do with Junior. Is Selmac okay?" Sam asked, her eyes flicking about, but finally coming to rest on her father’s thoughtful face.

"I’m fine, Sam," Jacob answered a moment later. "Selmac’s fine too. No bad reactions or anything."

"Good. I guess we should get moving," Sam said, gazing about one last time. She froze suddenly, her eyes going wide and her gun snapping around to point back toward the gate.

Daniel turned just as quickly, his eyes finally finding what had caused Sam’s reaction—someone was in the clearing behind them.

"Hello?" Daniel asked, figuring it wouldn’t be a bad idea to say something. The situation was awkward enough as it was, especially since the stranger now had three weapons aimed directly at him.

"Greetings, travelers. You are the ones who have traveled here before, are you not?" The approaching figure said, stepping carefully closer to the group, trying not to shout over the distance. Even with the weather and the blowing wind, the man’s voice carried fairly easily. To Daniel’s eye, he looked like he could have come from Meath, except for the fact that he was walking to them from the wrong direction. He was built similarly to Egan, tall without being muscle-bound and with a similar coloring. His dark brown undergarments complemented his long hair, carefully pulled back in a ponytail of sorts, and his full beard complimented his face. The leather garments looked warm and were of fine quality. The thick green cloak over his shoulders had a layer of fur on the inside.

Daniel was envious. Even with the military-issued boots and all his clothing, his toes were already going numb from the cold. He never liked cold planets. The cold air always managed to find a way past all his layers.

"Yes, were are. And who are you?"

"Forgive me, travelers. I am Caedmon," he said, bowing deeply, his hand sweeping to finish the gesture with a flourish.

"Its nice to meet you, Caedmon. My name is Daniel Jackson. This is Samantha Carter, Teal’c, and Jacob Carter," Daniel said, indicating each team member in turn. "Why are you in these parts? Doesn’t the Stargate lay within the territory of Meath?"

Caedmon had stopped an arm’s length from Daniel, who stood in front of the group, effectively blocking Caedmon from Sam’s P90. He couldn’t do much about Teal’c position to Daniel’s left side. He still had a clear shot, but his staff weapon was pointing up, not at the stranger. Daniel was sure, though, that Teal’c was prepared to shoot if the situation warranted it. At least someone trusted his judgement, Daniel thought acidly. He could feel Sam’s gun pointing in his direction.

"Even though these lands lie within the territory of Meath, the stone circle has always belonged to all the people of Ildanach. One man cannot change what has stood for centuries."

"So…" Daniel said, chancing a quick glance back at Sam. She was at attention, holding her gun rigidly in her hands, her eyes unblinking. Daniel tried not to sigh, but it was hard. He turned his attention back to the young man standing before him. "Caedmon, what can we do for you?"

"I would like to speak with you and learn from you. My home is only a short distance away from here. Would you like to join me there? Perhaps we can break our fast together on this winter morning?" Caedmon’s expression was guardedly hopeful.

"Well, we’re kind of in a hurry. We were hoping to reach Meath by mid-day," Daniel said, trying to let the man down gently. However, Caedmon wasn’t taking no for an answer.

"You wish to speak with Egan, perhaps?" Caedmon asked.

"Yes, we wish to speak with him, among others," Daniel affirmed. Caedmon knew something that he wasn’t telling, of this Daniel was sure.

"Please, join me for a light breakfast and then you can be on your way. I think your time would be wisely spent if you did this."

Daniel glanced back at Sam, looking for something, anything, but she wasn’t forthcoming with answers. "Sam," Daniel asked quietly. "What do you want to do?" Daniel knew that Sam had only one thing on her mind—finding Jack. This would just be a diversion, taking a considerable amount of time away from the precious little they had.

Sam was silent for a few minutes, carefully considering her options. When she finally spoke, Daniel was surprised by her decision. "Let’s go with Caedmon. I’m interesting in hearing what he has to say."

"As the Lady commands, so we shall do," Caedmon said, bowing regally to Sam before he turned back the way he had come. "Please follow me. It is but a short walk."

They left FRED at the gate clearing and followed Caedmon deeper into the forest. They walked in silence for several minutes, each person alone with their own thoughts. Daniel knew they needed information, better information than they already had. How much they could trust him was still uncertain, but Caedmon seemed more than willing to speak about the things that he knew.

A small stone structure appeared a few minutes later as Daniel got glimpses of it through the foliage. It was nothing like the castle of Meath, but Daniel was sure that it served its purpose. The area immediately around the house was well trampled, the remains of a small garden at the far end of the clearing. Smoke rose gently from the chimney. It looked like Caedmon lived alone.

"Welcome, travelers, to my home. It is not much, but it suits my needs. Please, come inside," Caedmon said, holding the door open to allow SG1 passage into the building.

As Sam stepped past him deeper into the house, Daniel noted that she had relaxed, her P90 hung from its hook on her vest, her hands merely holding it to stop it from swinging. Jacob was quiet, but his eyes were wide, taking in everything he saw. Just wait until you see Meath, Daniel thought with a half-smile. This is nothing to write home about.

The main chamber was set up partially as a large entranceway and partially as a living room. Several cushioned chairs—homemade by the looks of them—were scattered throughout the room, most within close proximity of the fireplace and the warmth it radiated. A small kitchen area could be seen just beyond the main room, along with a sleeping chamber and a bathroom. It wasn’t big, but it was homey.

Once they had shed their thick winter parkas and settled down in various chairs throughout the room, Caedmon’s expression grew serious. He opened his mouth to speak several times, only to close it before uttering a sound. It took several tries before he finally put the words together. "I know you must have a number of questions for me, so let me tell you a little of my own history. As you can tell, I do not reside within the walls of Glyn Cuch or of Meath, although I consider both to be my home."

Sam started to speak, but Caedmon held up his hand, smiling gently at her. "Please, let me speak, my Lady. There is much for me to tell and for you to hear and we do not have an abundance of time."

After Sam’s hesitant nod, Caedmon continued. "I’m sorry if it seemed as if I spirited you away from the clearing in a hurry. There are many prying eyes these days. I was asked by Egan to keep on watch and to speak with you once you stepped through. He knew you would soon return."

"How?" Daniel asked, the question slipping out from between his lips before he could reign it in.

Caedmon smiled at Daniel with understanding in his eyes. "As I said before, there is much you need to know. If you have not guessed already, Egan is my brother, actually my half-brother, many years my senior. I was born to his father and Lady Morgana nearly twenty-eight cycles ago."

Daniel’s eyes grew wide at Caedmon’s admission and he was sure that everyone wore a similar expression. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser.

"This may be hard to believe, but Lady Morgana is not who she seems to be," Caedmon said.

"We’d figured out that much on our own," Daniel admitted. "We just hadn’t figured out just what she is."

"She is from a race of people called the Kyredian. They were brought to this planet many, many years ago, banished here because of the deeds that had been done to others."

Daniel noticed that Jacob’s expression of curiosity had hardened into one of understanding. Something Caedmon said had struck a chord with the older man.

"Lady Morgana, my mother, is the last of her people. The rest died off over the years, many because of infighting, only a handful to old age. Time passed slowly here, many of the Kyredians fighting each other for supremacy. Eventually the Goa'uld Lugh came and brought the people who now populate the planet. They prospered for a time, spreading out across the planet. Lugh was generous and really cared for his people. But eventually he left and another Goa'uld came and began treating the people harshly. The Kyredians had remained out of Goa'uld affairs, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. They could oust the Goa’uld and rule here unchallenged. The few remaining Kyredians banded together and fought the Goa'uld, sending them retreating back through the gate from which they had come. They buried the Stargate at that time and promptly forgot about it."

Caedmon paused for a moment, taking a long sip from the cup sitting on the small table to his right.

"How were they able to fight against the Goa'uld?" Daniel asked quietly, trying not to spoil the mood that had settled upon them.

"Great skill in battle was not the way of the Kyredians. They use trickery and mind control to succeed, stealing the life-energy from their enemies. The Jaffa were easy to influence and were the first to turn. With the aid of the Jaffa, the Kyredians were able to defeat the Goa'uld overlord," Caedmon said, looking at Daniel over the rim of his cup. "It is much the same these days I am afraid."

"Caedmon, how old is your mother?" Jacob asked quietly, the question piercing.

Caedmon hesitated a moment, a long sigh sounding through the room. "She is several thousand years old."

Daniel’s eyes widened at the answer. Several thousand years. That was unimaginable. "Why didn’t the Goa’uld take them as hosts? Right now, they use the sarcophagus to extend their life."

"It is something about the body chemistry of the Kyredians, although I am unsure as to what exactly it is. The Goa’uld tried, but did not succeed. Instead, they were forced to obtain another host in order to survive."

"Caedmon, what did you mean when you said that they stole life-energy?" As soon as Daniel had heard that phrase, his heart had nearly dropped into his boots. It couldn’t mean what it sounded like, could it?

"Well," Caedmon said, starting slowly. "Although the Kyredians are a long-lived race, the only way they can continue to live is by feeding off the life-energy of those with whom they bond. My father was one of Lady Morgana’s victims. My brother was her last."

"Egan?" Daniel asked, praying that that wasn’t the case.

"No, Lord Kentigern. He died yesterday morning."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Sam said, genuinely apologetic.

"Thank you, my Lady," Caedmon said, indicating his head in Sam’s direction. "She can only bond with someone over whom she has control. She controls men and women alike through the use of various herbs and her mind. It is very convincing."

"Why do you say that? Did she try something on you, her own son?" Daniel was astonished. How could a mother inflict such an atrocity on her own child?

"She believes she is above all other beings. She would not hesitate to use any of you if it would add more days to her life. She tried to control me, but it did not succeed. She ordered my death as soon as she discovered that her control was slipping. For some reason, because I am a hybrid, she could not harvest my life-energy. My brother, Egan, helped me escape and faked my death."

"Why didn’t Egan tell us any of this when we were here? Why didn’t he warn us?" Daniel was outraged. They had trusted Egan with their lives and he led them directly to the castle and into Morgana’s outstretched arms. God only knew what she had done to Jack.

"Egan," Caedmon said, pausing to collect his thoughts. "Egan, did not believe all that I spoke. He thought that I had lost my senses. He helped me because he could not see his brother put to death like an animal. All he felt was pity for me. I have been hiding out in this forest since the day he helped me leave the dungeons of Meath." Caedmon paused again, and this time Daniel was unsure if he was going to continue. "Egan was not willing to see what was before his very eyes. He would rather turn a blind eye than face Morgana and his brother Kentigern directly. It was only recently that he had a change of heart. It was once he met you that he began to doubt. He spoke with me on a number of occasions recently, asking questions, probing my memories, and looking for answers. He was unsure if he would be here to greet you himself, so he asked me to speak with you, to tell you my story. Please do not judge us based on your dealings with Lady Morgana. She does not speak for the people of Ildanach."

"Egan mentioned that to me on another occasion," Daniel said, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence that had settled over the group. "Thank you for your honesty, but I have to ask, what would you have us do? We have come here searching for our friend. He has suffered at the hands of Lady Morgana for weeks. We must try and free him from her."

"Do you speak about O’Neill?" Caedmon asked, his eyes narrowing. The pit in Daniel’s stomach continued to swell, filling him with dread.

"Yes."

Caedmon’s eyes filled with concern and anxiety. "I wish I was not bearer of bad news, but O’Neill now stands at Lady Morgana’s side."

Daniel’s breath went out in one whoosh. He had thought for sure that Caedmon was going to tell him that Jack was dead. "That’s fine. At least he’s still alive."

"No, Daniel Jackson, you do not understand. O’Neill stands at Morgana’s side as her beloved. He pledged his life to her. He is lost to you." Caedmon was adamant.

"No, you must be mistaken," Sam said, finding her voice. "He wouldn’t pledge his life to anyone, let alone to her."

"I must disagree with you, my Lady," Caedmon said, his reply courteous. "I watched him take Lady Morgana and twenty soldiers through the stone ring. Would he have done so if he did not stand at her side?"

"You must be mistaken. Colonel O’Neill would never do that. He’d die before he told her anything," Sam’s words, while strong, did not have conviction behind them.

"I watched him with my own eyes, dial the stone ring using the other device in the clearing and explain that the standing water was actually the event horizon of a wormhole. I do not understand the words, but that is what I remember," said Caedmon, looking directly at Sam, his eyes challenging her to argue with him, to prove him wrong. "He also mentioned your name."

"Mine?"

"Yes. Does he not call you Carter?"

"Oh, God, yes, he does," Sam said, her voice breaking a little at the end. She turned to Daniel, her eyes beginning to tear. "Daniel, we’re too late, aren’t we? If we had come back yesterday, he would still be here and maybe we would have had a chance."

"My Lady," Caedmon said, drawing their attention back to him. "Even if you had been here yesterday, it would not have mattered. The man you knew as Jack O’Neill died a long time ago. I watched it happen in the clearing of the stone ring seven days ago."

"Seven days ago? I thought you said he was alive, standing beside Morgana. How could a dead man dial the Stargate?" Daniel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This could not be true.

"She placed the small device of obedience on his temple, controlling all of his thoughts. I have yet to see any man withstand that kind of pain and pressure. Yesterday, he knelt down before all the inhabitants of Meath and pledged his allegiance—his life and his soul—to her. My brother watched him do this. You claim that the man you knew as Jack O’Neill would not have done this, but I must tell you this: he is not the man you once knew."

"Do you know where they have gone?" Teal’c asked, speaking up for the first time. Daniel jumped when he heard the voice. He had forgotten the Jaffa had been standing in the shadows, silently guarding the team.

"I do not know. Egan was there, perhaps he would be able to help you," Caedmon said, rising to his feet. "Come, let us go to Meath and see my brother. I believe it is time that I returned to the world of the living."