Stargate Atlantis: Emerald Isle

Chapter 14 - The Island Fort

Rodney looked at the lively stretch of water between the wooden jetty he stood on and the landing place on the island. He looked at the boat being rowed toward them; the way it heaved up to the peak of a wave and fell suddenly to wallow in the trough of the next. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch and he wiped a sudden beading of sweat from his brow.

"You OK, Rodney?" enquired John.

Rodney smiled weakly. "Have I ever told you about the time I got sick in a paddling pool?" he said.

John grinned. "It's not far. You'll be fine!"

Rodney gave a huff of disbelief.

The boat came alongside the jetty and one of the two men who were rowing it took ropes from the stern and the bow and threw them to Jed and Mal who held the small boat fast. Vorra hopped aboard, followed by Breesha, with a little more dignity. Coll ushered John and Rodney forward. John stepped down into the boat and sat on one of the thwarts, giving Rodney an encouraging look. Rodney looked at the boat; even here it rose and fell with the motion of the waves and Jed and Mal were struggling to hold it fast. He tightened his jaw and stepped over the gunwhale with determination, then the boat suddenly fell away beneath him and he landed awkwardly on top of John. John pushed him round until Rodney sat next to him, clinging with both hands to the thwart.

"Not a natural sailor, then?" commented John.

Rodney gave him a sidelong look, half irritation, half panic and wondered if there were any giant white whales in these waters.

Coll and Nollen stepped aboard, casually, matching their motions to the surge of the waves and finally Jed and Mal, releasing their tension on the ropes and leaping in as the boat began to lurch away from the jetty. They sat down and took up a spare pair of oars, grinning at each other as if the whole thing was a treat, Rodney thought sourly.

His thoughts rapidly became even more sour as his stomach tried to reconcile its contents with the heaving, wallowing motions of the small boat. The worst bit, Rodney thought, was the peak of each wave where the boat seemed to pause as if in thought, before the sea fell away beneath it and it plummeted, to land, sometimes with an audible smack in the trough of the next wave. Rodney tried to breathe the fresh sea air slowly and deeply, but there was an underlying fishy smell in the boat which wasn't helping.

Breesha looked at him with sympathy, John with amusement. Jed, Mal and the two island men were singing a lively rowing song in time with their strokes. Actually singing, thought Rodney with disgust. Their singing seemed to keep their powerful strokes in time, however, and their efficiency soon brought the boat to the island. Another ordeal awaited Rodney as the tide was low and they had to wait for the little boat to surge upward before they could step off on to the landing stage. The others seemed to think it was a kind of a game, chanting in time with the waves before taking a giant step off the boat and into the arms of their friends. When it was Rodney's turn he wobbled, one foot in the bottom of the boat, one on the thwart, but when the wave lifted the boat, Jed and Mal reached forward, hauled him out and plopped him down onto the thankfully solid jetty. He smiled at them weakly and watched John wait for the rise of a wave and step out with studied nonchalance.

The landing stage led up to a solid-looking wooden gate, which was followed by a narrow passage between high wooden walls and then another gate. I could improve this arrangement, thought Rodney.

Once through the second gate they were greeted by a tall, jovial-looking man, who, they gathered, was the island's chieftain. Coll introduced him as Orrin, followed by his wife, Aylish and their son, Kerran. Kerran was similar in looks and manner to his father, dark-haired, strong-looking and also, when his eyes fell on Vorra, red-faced and beaming. So, here was Vorra's intended, thought Rodney. The man looked like he had a good appetite; there would be no stinting at his wedding feast.

They were led to the central meeting house, which, unlike the hill fort's, was a long, rectangular building. The two families, hill and island, were busily getting reacquainted, Breesha and Aylish with their heads together, with many nods and glances cast in John and Rodney's direction. The longhouse had a central hearth and several logs running down the length of the building by way of benches. There were three chairs for the Chieftain's family at the head of the room, but Orrin gestured to the logs nearest the fire and they all sat down together. Vorra began a lively account and her actions were so descriptive that John and Rodney could tell she was describing the whole exploding rutabaga incident. Orrin looked at John and Rodney with increased interest, but John left his P90 where it was, wrapped up in a bundle of his clothes. When Coll began to speak they could tell that he was giving an account of his daughter's prowess with John's Beretta. Kerran laughed aloud with pleasure and there was obviously some good-natured teasing, along the lines of: "She'll keep you under control!"

Some of the ubiquitous light ale was brought but it looked like they'd have to wait until later for food. Rodney didn't mind; his stomach was still unsettled from its recent sea voyage.

The initial catching-up over with, the group dispersed, Coll and his family being taken to their accommodation by Aylish and the rest of the men being shown a small hut in which there was the usual central hearth and several piles of animal skins in lieu of beds. They distributed the skins in five piles; they weren't as comfortable as the beds they'd had in the hillfort and Rodney sniffed at them suspiciously and thought of his comfortable bed on Atlantis. Although, more often than not, he reflected, he would fall asleep over a work bench in his lab and wake up stiff and sore and with a keyboard-imprinted face; even animal skins would be more comfortable than that.

oOo

The longhouse, filled with people, seemed a different place, the hubbub of voices and laughter, the smoke from the built-up fire and the dim light made for a convivial atmosphere, even though Rodney and John couldn't understand a word of what was being said. Whether the islanders all met up for an evening meal every day or whether this was a special occasion to welcome Coll's family, they weren't sure, but the food was plentiful, so Rodney at least was happy.

John was less content, because it seemed that Orrin was reluctant to strike back at the raiders using John's incomprehensible methods. There was much discussion, both verbally between Orrin and Coll, and using Rodney's slate, but Orrin remained unconvinced. For John and Rodney's benefit he scratched out a picture of his usual plan: everyone into the fort and a select few to herd the animals as far inland as possible. Coll looked disappointed and spoke to Orrin persuasively, but by his gestures and tone, Orrin remained unmoved.

Rodney looked at John, expecting to see impatience, but instead John was scratching his chin, looking thoughtful.

"I don't blame him," John said, "If someone came to us with unknown technology that they weren't even prepared to demonstrate and said: 'Next time the Wraith attack, just leave it to us,' would we trust them? And we can't even talk to them!"

"Well, we can't exactly show them the C4," said Rodney. "We need it all. We shouldn't even show them the P90 again, or even play around with the handguns," he said pointedly. "We need to save the ammo."

"I have to do something to gain the man's trust," said John. "But what would persuade him?"

"Something foolish and reckless, knowing you," muttered Rodney.