========================================================================= Date: Sun, 10 Mar 1996 21:24:00 -0500 Reply-To: LC Krakowka Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: LC Krakowka Subject: cardinal Rules 4/6 warning: battle scene is kind of gruesome. Disclaimer at beginning of section 1. Cardinal Rules LC Krakowka part 4 Ethan sighed as he stepped into his grandfather's study. This was all so sudden...he didn't want to be talking about the future of the Clan...he wanted to take some time and think about what he was. Lord knows he had plenty of that...time. It was appealing to him, the idea of dueling with swords to survive. It harkened back to the old days, when Scotland was wild and everyone lived by their swords. He was getting pretty good at it, though he knew there was a long road to travel before he would be good enough to travel without a more experienced immortal as his protector. Richie had mentioned a Duncan MacLeod, maybe a fellow Highlander would take him in and show him the ropes. Sarah MacGreggor was an excellent swordswoman and a good teacher, but Ethan was not really willing to accept the fact that he would be trapped in his seventeen year old body forever. He didn't want to fight with veiled punches and kicks...there was a much more noble way to do it and the MacGreggors were nothing, if not noble. "Is rioghal mo dhream," he said to himself softly. The clan motto. "My blood is royal." *** "Wake up!" Mac shook Adam, who had been softly snoring in the seat next time him. "Huh? What? Are we there?" Adam forced his eyes open, then shut them quickly. He had been dreaming of a rough water crossing he and Sarah had made in 1245 on their way to Crete and his stomach was a little queasy. "No, they're re-routing us to Edinburgh," Mac said as the plane rolled to one side and lurched upwards a bit. "Why?" Mac frowned, "Massive electrical storms over Glasgow." Adam bolted upright and looked out the window. Lightning was flashing like mad in the clouds below. "It's too big to be a quickening," Mac said, trying to reassure him. *** Sarah and Ethan had been sitting under the great Oak in silence for a few moments. It was growing dark and across the garden, the castle lights were blazing as the servants prepared for tomorrow's Gathering. He had asked her if she would mind introducing him to MacLeod, explaining that he was very grateful for her help, but wanted to learn from a man. She laughed suddenly, "You know Ethan, in the ancient days, the women used to fight along side the men in war." "I know. And I know that it was the women who used to rule the clans," he paused, not wishing to offend her. "But I'm a MacGreggor and I willnae fight like a coward." "You think I'm a coward?" She asked calmly. "No, but yer a woman. You 'ave to fight like you do to survive. I'm a man..." "Yer a boy. You may live to be a thousand, but it will be in that boy's body. Do ye understand me, Ethan MacGreggor?" Sarah heard the brogue slip back into her voice; it always happened when she spent any time within ear shot of fellow Scots. "You're never going to grow...the Game isn't about nobility, it's about survival." "Still," he said, "if it's all the same to ye, I'd like to meet MacLeod." She shrugged and leaned back against the tree. "Sure." "Me gran-da told me it's yer birthday tomorrow." Sarah nodded, "Nine hundred and fifty four." Ethan was about to respond, but clutched his head and paled instead. Sarah felt the buzz as well and reached for her sword, knowing instinctively that it wasn't Richie. She motioned for Ethan to stay put, and stalked a wary path away from the tree. "MacGreggor!" A surly voice boomed from behind. Sarah spun and her jaw dropped open. The man that was standing before her was straight out of her nightmares...huge and muscled, dressed in traditional highland attire with wild hair and a face streaked with blue woad. He carried a huge Claymore and there was an axe strapped across his back. It was no wonder everyone thought Highlanders were barbarians, she thought. Sarah's thoughts raced and her pulse quickened. Chances were she was faster than this man, but one or two hits with that Claymore of his and she'd be out for the count...and that would leave Ethan unprotected. She sighed inwardly, wishing she hadn't been so adamant through the years about fighting her own battles...this would be one she'd much rather watch from the sidelines. "Still fighting the old wars?" She asked, stalling for time and hoping to figure out how old he was. The man sneered. "Scourge of the earth, ye MacGreggors are." >From his window, Richie saw a flash of steel on steel. He grabbed his sword and ran for the garden. He knew he couldn't interfere, but it was instinct. Besides, if Sarah lost, he'd be there to avenge it. Midway there, Ethan MacGreggor stepped in front of him. "I 'ope yer not going to interfere," the boy said. "That's a rule, isn't it?" "What's going on?" Richie panted. "It's Campbell," the younger boy said. "Get yourself to holy ground! The chapel by the loch! Go!" But Ethan stood his ground. "Get out of here. You don't stand a chance against that guy." "He's not who I want," Ethan said. Something in his tone alerted Richie to the fact that all was not right. "What are you talking about?" Behind him, Donald MacGreggor shuffled up. "You cannae interfere boy." "I know. But what's going on here?" In the distance he could hear swords clashing. "When it's over, tis Ethan 'oo will take the spoils." "What?" He shook his head, the old man wasn't making sense. "Look, I gotta be there," Richie turned to sprint past Ethan, but fell to the ground with a bullet in his back. "You do-na understand," said Donald MacGreggor. "I cannae let you interfere." Before he lost consciousness, Richie began to get a hint of what was going on. The whole trip had been a set up. Where was Mac? Shouldn't he be charging in to save the day right about now? Ethan and his grandfather arrived near the tree to see Sarah was backed against it, exhausted and covered in blood. Donald looked at her with alarm, this was not supposed to be what happened. But he saw, with some satisfaction, that she had gotten a few good cuts in on the man who had his hands to her throat. "A MacGreggor doesn't deserve to die quickly," her opponent said, reaching for his battle axe. They watched in horror as he plunged the axe into her chest and stepped back to admire his work, leaving her impaled on the tree. Donald turned his head, but Ethan was morbidly transfixed by the image of Sarah's blood on the blade. Her blood. His blood. MacGreggor blood. Is rioghal mo dhream. My blood is royal. Suddenly he realized the true nature of the Game. He had been dreaming, playing at being immortal. But this was not a child's dream, this was real. And it was horrific. She did not deserve to die that way. She was a kinswoman. Without thinking, he rushed the bigger man and sliced him across the hamstrings. When Campbell fell to his knees, Ethan took his head from behind. There was no time to consider the consequences of his actions before the quickening rose out of Campbell's body. But, instead of slamming into him, it hovered there a moment. Lightning flashed in the skies and a strong wind came out of nowhere, howling through the Oak. He stood, watching and wondering what would happen next. Sarah had described the quickening as an elemental force that rocketed through your body bringing both delight and pain. But he was feeling nothing. Then, quite suddenly, it started. He was in exquisite pain, his body shaking, but Campbell's essence still hung in the air. He glanced over at Sarah to see a bluish white cloud rising slowly out of her chest. That wasn't supposed to happen, he thought vaguely. She was still alive. Ethan heard his grandfather gasp and looked down to see his own meager quickening leave his body. Before he fell to the ground unconscious, he saw it join Sarah's and Campbell's swirling in a writhing wave above them all. The three quickenings danced above Donald's head, bringing more wind and thunder. What had he done? What had Ethan done? Now all was lost. He had heard stories, in his Watcher days, of quickenings that dispersed if left to do so. Would that happen here? The answer came with the force of an avalanche. Elemental in their own right, the three quickenings sought to return to a similar place...a place where they could blend with an ancient life source and establish a symbiotic relationship. The tree. With Sarah dead, it was the oldest living thing for miles. Donald watched in awe as the silvery cloud went into the great oak, leaving it's branches twitching and sparking with a blue light. Richie awoke to an eerie silence. His chest ached where the bullet had passed through him, but he was healing rapidly. Sarah. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward the tree, coming to a skittering halt at the sight of what lay there. Donald MacGreggor was sitting quietly on a stone bench, staring off into space. Nearby, the three bodies were motionless. He took it all in with a shuddering gasp. There was no buzz. This close to Sarah, he should feel her. Nothing. Campbell lay face down, beheaded from behind. The bloody sword in Ethan's limp hand told his what had occurred. A rule. Broken. He advanced to within a foot of Sarah's lifeless form, praying for her buzz to hit as it usually did. But she was dead, her quickening gone, her chest cloven nearly in two by the great axe. Stunned by the realization of what occurred, Richie leaned against a low branch to steady himself. That's when the buzz hit. It was a hundred times more powerful than Sarah's alone. He reeled forward, trying not to fall.Some part of him, a racial memeory perhaps, understood what had transpired and knew that the Glenstrae Oak held the collective energy that had once been Sarah's life. Gruesome as it was, he had to get her off of that tree. Mac would be there soon--too late to save the day--and would most likely have Adam with him. This was not a sight they should have to see. Grimly determined, Richie braced his foot against the tree and heaved at the handle of the axe. The elements hadn't settled yet. Some of the three mixed quickenings had already blended with the tree's own life force, but most were still circulating freely. When Richie made contact with the axe handle, the power of his own quickening acted like a fuse on a powder keg. Lightning flashed from the sky and he was thrown backwards several yards as the tree exploded into thousands of pieces. Fire rained from the sky as the branches fell to the ground in shards. Sheltering his head with his arm, Richie watched as the swirling mass of light rose again, hovering uncertainly above Sarah's body. Then, suddenly, the cloud split in two. The larger mass forced it's way back into Sarah, while the smaller brought Richie to his knees in both agony and delight. Nearby, Donald MacGreggor noticed that his grandson was lying exactly as he had before. No licks of lightening touched the boy's frame, no flickers of life force danced their way into his soul. Ethan simply lay there, unconscious but alive. Mortal once more. [end part 4] copyright 1996, LC Krakowka. Author's notes: Is rioghal mo dhream is actually the MacGreggor clan motto, according to Ian Grimble's book "Scottish Clans and Tartans". -- LC Krakowka hck1@cornell.edu