Date: Tue, 15 Aug 1995 20:19:03 EDT Reply-To: Russ McMillan Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Russ McMillan Subject: Hold Fast, Part 4 of 8 Hold Fast, Part 4 by Russet McMillan mcmillan@astro.psu.edu Richie parked his bike outside of the dojo, and as soon as he turned off the motor he heard the clashing of swords. From the powerful roaring in his ears, he could also tell that there was at least one Immortal inside with Duncan. Warily, he pulled out his rapier and opened the door. He could tell fairly quickly that Duncan had the upper hand; his opponent fell back repeatedly. While Richie watched, Duncan disarmed his opponent and brought his katana flashing up below the other man's chin, to stop at the last moment with a smile. The stranger threw up his arm -- his only arm, Richie realized -- in exasperation. "This isn't working!" he exclaimed. Richie caught his breath, almost recognizing the voice. "Give it time," said Duncan, breathing heavily. "I don't have time. I'll be dead before I get my left arm up to speed." He turned and walked over to where his sword, a light rapier similar to Richie's, had fallen. Duncan set his katana on a bench, caught Richie's eye and gave a little jerk of his head. Richie glided soundlessly behind the strange Immortal before he could retrieve his weapon, but the other man either heard or sensed him, for he spun around with a kick which barely missed Richie's knee. Backpedaling before Richie's advance, the man somersaulted away from a thrust and came up with sword in hand. The stranger was tired, but Richie was hampered by his motorcycle jacket. If the stranger was unused to fighting left-handed, Richie was unaccustomed to defending on that side as well. As he began to adjust to the new angle, it became apparent that the newcomer had even more tricks up his sleeve than Duncan. He pretended to stumble and lured Richie in close, then bound their blades together and with one swift motion kicked the younger Immortal's legs out from beneath him. Richie's elbow banged painfully on the floor, and by the time he recovered his grip the other man's sword was at his throat. "See? That wasn't so bad," said Duncan approciatively. "You still need more practice with different blades and styles, but you're starting to remember the moves now." The stranger glared. "You should talk -- you're still using your favorite sword and moves you learned three hundred years ago!" Richie climbed to his feet and tossed his rapier to Duncan's waiting hand. Changing his grip, Duncan said, "I'll make it really even and use my left hand. Come on, then." They circled each other, looking for an opening. The one-armed man was beginning to look more sure of himself, and he made the first move. In two quick encounters neither got a clear advantage. They closed again, the light blades moving too swiftly to see, and when they parted, both were bleeding from small cuts. "Now I remember why I shouldn't wear a shirt for sparring with you," Duncan said. "That's nothing!" the stranger objected. "Try this." He lunged, wormed his way around Duncan's quick parry, and pricked home just above Duncan's heart. Duncan fell back with a groan and brushed at the blood on his shirt. "Am I supposed to thank you for not running me through?" he gasped. "No, you're supposed to thank me for not cutting your head off," said the one armed man. He stepped to the side of the floor and grabbed a rag from a bench, holding his sword hilt between his knees while he wiped the blade clean. Duncan followed him, grimacing in pain, and handed Richie back his rapier. "Connor, this is my student Richie Ryan." Richie nodded as his guess was confirmed. "We've met before, but there wasn't much time for an introduction. You're Duncan's cousin, right?" He started to reach out his hand for a greeting, then drew it back in confusion. "Well, we're clansmen, anyway." Connor grinned. "I told Duncan you would need watching." Richie's eyes widened at the implication. "You mean you knew?" Connor shrugged. "I guessed." Richie turned to Duncan. "Why didn't you tell me?" "What was I supposed to say?" Duncan objected. "'By the way, if you ever get killed, don't worry, because you _might_ come back to life'? You were reckless enough as it was." Reluctantly, Richie returned his grin. "Yeah, I suppose you didn't want me to cause any more trouble for you. But you might have told me afterward!" "It didn't seem so important then," said Duncan, sobering quickly. Connor gave his kinsman a sharp look and said, "Come on, let's go upstairs and get some clean clothes on. I'm ready for lunch." "You just had a second breakfast an hour ago!" Duncan complained. Richie laughed as he followed the two Highlanders into the elevator. =================== Miranda Kelly finished her sword kata, came back to the ready position, then relaxed with a sigh. She couldn't follow the kata exactly in the limited space of a hotel room, but her mentor had taught her that sometimes it was good to practice in a confined space, just as she practiced on different terrains. Thinking of Drew made her want to cry. She tossed her sword down on the bed and dug in her luggage for her sketchbook. She had never shown Drew the sketches she had drawn of him. She had expected to have all the time in the world to tell him how she felt -- time for her to develop her own skills until she could meet Drew on an equal footing. But now he was gone and it was too late. Here was a picture of Drew reading a book, another of him laughing at something. And here was one of Drew with his shirt open at the neck, his sword at the ready and his eyes challenging her to attack. Was this how he had looked just before he lost his head? Miranda didn't want to kill anyone, but Drew had explained that she had no choice. It was an unavoidable part of what she had become. She didn't want to suffer Drew's fate, but if she was going to make it on her own, she had to get some experience. She had only taken one head so far, and that had been, at Drew's insistence, a man who had been Immortal less than a year and had no idea what it meant. His Quickening had given her new strength, but not the knowledge or skill she needed to fend for herself. So, with Drew gone, she had come to Seattle in search of the nearest other teacher. She knew that Duncan Macleod avoided killing when he could, and that he had helped other young Immortals. He had one student who was just about as advanced as Miranda. Miranda needed to fight someone she knew she could beat. She had come to Seattle to take Richie Ryan's head. ======================= Connor and Richie sat in the living room, talking. They had already covered motorcycles and women, and they were moving on to swords and swordfights. "I should have known you two would get on like a house on fire," Duncan said dryly as he brought out a plate of nachos. He set it halfway between his two friends and watched with interest to see which way the plate would move. Richie choked over his beer. "How old is _that_ expression?" Duncan looked wounded. "It's not that old." He appealed to Connor for support. "I'm sure I've heard it used some time this century." Richie was incapacitated by laughter. Connor was busy eating. Richie pointed a finger at Duncan, gasping, "Your accent -- it's getting stronger every minute." "It always does that when I get really annoyed," said Duncan pointedly. "Guess I'm just a bad influence," said Connor around a mouthful of nachos. When Richie recovered, he said with a grin, "Duncan said I should ask you about the duel on Boston Common." "He can tell you about it himself," Connor retorted. "Ah, but it's so much funnier the way you tell it," Duncan said. Connor glared at him. "Why don't I tell him about that time in Paris, instead?" "Which time in Paris?" asked Duncan with a frown. Connor turned to Richie. "The first time my young friend here was in Paris, he hadn't been there an hour before he'd promised himself into duels with the three finest swordsmen in the city, all scheduled on the same day." "It was an accident!" Duncan protested. "It all started from a misunderstanding." "Did you win?" Richie asked. "Well . . ." Connor grinned. "Duncan wasn't so good with a sword in those days. He lost all three duels." "It was the only polite thing to do," Duncan muttered. "I told them it was a misunderstanding." "Polite? Is that what it was?" Connor went on, "Then later he told the tale to some tavern lass, who told it to a friend, and so on, until it ended up written into a book." He watched Richie's reaction expectantly. "What book?" asked Richie. Connor looked offended. "What do they teach you in schools these days?" "What book? Duncan?" Duncan shook his head. "You'll have to find out for yourself or not at all." He picked up the empty plate -- the greater part of the food had definitely gone to Connor -- and returned to the kitchen for more. As he left the room, he heard Richie asking again about Boston Common. ===================== Miranda waited down the street from the dojo, watching its door carefully through her windshield. She wasn't sure how close she would have to be to sense a renowned Immortal like Duncan Macleod, but she intended to stay well out of his range. She had no desire to attract the eagle's gaze when she was preying on one of the chicks. All she needed to do here was pick up Ryan's trail and find out where he lived. She stiffened as she saw the door open, and the young red-headed Immortal barreled down the steps two at a time. For a moment she thought she had been detected, and they were coming after her. But when Ryan settled onto his bike and began fastening his helmet without any particular hurry, she decided it was just youthful energy that had made him run that way. She slid down in her seat as her quarry started up his motorcycle and pushed off into the street. When he turned away from her, as she had expected, and began roaring down the pavement, she breathed a sigh of relief, straightened, and turned the key in her ignition. Clutching the wheel tightly to keep her hands from trembling, she drove after her intended victim. ========================== =========================================================================