Date: Wed, 2 Nov 1994 00:54:29 EST Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Jacquie Groom <100045.3717@COMPUSERVE.COM> Subject: Name of the Sword pt 5 of 5 The moon had come out from behind the cloud, shining down on the water, illuminating the clearing. "I know you're out there, Huntingdon," Taran's voice echoed through the wood. From where they stood, Robert's friends watched him move silently across the bridge. "I see you lost that precious sword of yours !" Taran taunted his enemy. "Don't feel so brave without it's devilish magic, do you ?" It seemed as if Albion was alive. Suddenly the sword was wrapped round with an eerie blue light. Robert leapt out of the shadows. "Me, lose Albion ?" he jeered, lifting the burning sword high above Taran's head. "Never !" For a split second, Taran froze. Robert moved in, aiming at his enemy's neck. But the evil immortal was quick. Too quick. His sabre, jewels in the hilt glinting in the moonlight, flashed through the night sky, meeting Albion with a loud metallic clash. The fight had begun. As the men and their swords fought each other, clash after terrible crash in the still air of the forest, Duncan turned away. It was so hard to watch. He felt over his shoulder for the Katana, comforted by the sword's solid presence. "I don't care what they say," he said to himself. "One false move on Taran's behalf, and I'm out there." Richie, a few steps away from the immortals, chewed on his fingernails as he watched. It was strange, watching Robert fight. His style was different to Duncan's, but he was good. Really good. The moon slipped behind a cloud; the change distracted Taran just enough for Robert to catch his arm. Albion's eerie light flared as it touched the man's sleeve. Taran jumped back with a yell. Richie held his breath as Robert, a strangely exuberant look on his face, moved in, Albion squarely aimed at Taran's neck. Taran, eyes wide open with terror, stepped backwards, lashing wildly with his elegant sabre. As his movements grew wilder and wilder, Robert and Albion seemed to blend together, until they were one. A fighting unit, a team. Until a hidden root caught Taran unawares. He floundered wildly, trying to avoid the unavoidable. And a fluke of a balancing gesture with his sabre somehow caught under Albion's hilt, and sent the ancient sword flying through the air. Taran landed inelegantly on the soft grass, his head hitting the ground with a dull thud. Robert, breathing hard, watched, as if mesmerised, while Albion flew, hilt over tip, through the night sky. Out of sight, Richie, Duncan and Elenore watched. "Come on, get it back," Duncan urged under his breath, as he waited for the old sword to hit the ground. But it never did. Somehow, the sword swerved in the air, and appeared to hover there, in the middle of the clearing, glowing faintly with a clear, blue light. Robert took a step closer to his sword; Taran, a look of absolute horror on his ugly face, slowly got himself to his feet, his eyes never leaving Albion. "What have you done to that devil's instrument ?" he spat at Robert. Robert, faint amusement in his eyes, shrugged. "You'd better ask Albion," he said nonchalantly. The fair Immortal's carefree attitude appeared to annoy Taran even more. With a growl, he rushed towards Robert, his sabre raised. But Robert was not even watching his enemy. Automatically stepping to one side to avoid the blade, his eyes were fixed on the patch of mist which had enveloped Albion. A patch of mist which was coalescing, taking shape. Until it became apparent that Albion was not floating, but was being wielded by a man. A strangely insubstantial man, but definitely a man. Tall, dark-haired, with a handsome, otherworldly face, and piercing green eyes. "Loxley !" Elenore gasped from her hiding place. "Really ?" Duncan asked, looking more closely at the ghostly shape. "I always wanted to meet him ..." "So did Robert," Elenore added quietly. "So, brother, we meet at last !" Robin of Loxley called out to his successor. Robert's eyes narrowed. "Why you ?" he asked. "Aren't I good enough ?" "Of course you're good enough !" Loxley called back, as he approached the now cowering Taran. "It's just that this is Herne's fight, not yours. And he's deputised me ..." "Why you ?" Robert asked in a low, dangerous voice. "I've waited for this man for centuries. You can't come and take over now !" "Can't I ?" Loxley replied, his green eyes shining as Albion, glowing happily, clashed with Taran's sabre. "Robert ! Let him !" The command came from the other side of the clearing. A tall figure, shrouded in mist. Richie, watching with terrified fascination, could have sworn there were antlers growing from his head. "Herne !" Robert's voice was full of awe. He dropped to his knees. "My son," Herne said with a smile. "Let your brother deal with this. Keep the blood of my murderer from your hands. It is bad enough that such an act was once performed in the heart of Sherwood. Do not let it happen a second time." Robert, his eyes shining bright, stared up at the man who had called him away from his comfortable life in Huntingdon, had given him a purpose, a reason to life. "But -" he started to argue. But then, looking at Herne's relentless, ageless eyes, he nodded. "I submit to your will, father," he said quietly. "As always." Loxley laughed as he circled the terrified Immortal. Taran, his eyes wild with fear, lashed out, somehow forgetting all his science and skill. He slashed at Loxley's arm, only to yell out with frustration as his sabre met only shadows and mist. "You're mine," Loxley grimly. "Mine, and Albion's." "Never," Taran said with a gasp. But he was tiring, and knew it. Albion's light flared up, and the ancient sword came down with a metallic crash on the elegant sabre. In a flash, the sabre broke into a thousand shards. Taran stood there, transfixed, totally at Loxley's mercy. "Herne ?" Loxley called out, glancing at the Forest God. And Herne nodded grimly. "Do it," he said. "The wrong must be redressed. The balance must be maintained." Albion's light changed from icy blue to fiery red. Lifting high, the ancient sword flew through the air and neatly removed Taran's head from his shoulders. Richie, involuntarily shut his eyes. But then he forced himself to watch. Slowly, almost in slow motion, Taran's body crumpled to the ground. But instead of the pyrotechnics he had seen at other beheadings, the forest mist appeared to gather over the body. And, with a shudder and a shimmer, the immortal's body appeared to - evaporate - and be swallowed up into the forest air. "Wow," Richie gasped. Duncan moved a step closer to him, and squeezed his arm. Herne's voice echoed through the clearing. "So must it be !" "So must it be," Loxley echoed, lowering Albion to the ground. "So must it be," Huntingdon repeated, moving over to where his brother stood. With a faint smile, Loxley handed the sword to Huntingdon. "Your sword, I believe," he said. Huntingdon shook his head, putting his hand on Albion's hilt, on top of Robin's. "Our sword," he said. Then another shadowy figure emerged from amongst the trees. Tall, elegant, beautiful, she walked over to where the two men stood. Richie caught his breath. "She's gorgeous," he said quietly. "Isn't she ?" Elenore said with a quiet smile. "She always was." Marion put her hand on Albion's hilt, looking first at Robin, then at Robert. "I love you both," she said quietly, her eyes smiling. "I always did." "Have you always been here ?" Robert asked, looking at Marion in stunned amazement. "In Sherwood ?" "Always. Where else would we be ?" Loxley responded. Robert's face seemed to turn paler yet in the moonlight. He looked down at the ground. "There have been times when I've hated you," he said slowly. "For leaving me," he said, looking at Marion. "And for being the first and the best," he finished, glancing at Loxley. "We know," Marion said. "And we understand," Loxley added. "But you never were second best, Robert of Huntingdon. Just different." Robert smiled. "What now ?" he asked. "You live," Herne said sternly from amongst the trees. "For as I told you many years ago, my son, you have a job to do. How you chose to interpret it in this strange new age, is up to you. But my son you remain, now and always." "So must it be," Robert said slowly. Marion took one of his hands. "Nothing's forgotten," she said with a sweet smile. "Nothing's ever forgotten," Loxley finished, taking his other hand. And then they were gone. Feeling bereft, Robert glanced round the empty clearing. Then his eyes narrowed. "Richie ?" he called. Slightly sheepishly, the lad stepped forward. "Yes ?" he said. "I thought I told you to wait in the cave ?" Richie shrugged. Duncan strode out from the trees to stand by his immortal friend's side. "Glad to see it's a general problem, and not just me he ignores," he said with a grin. Then he put his hands on Robert's shoulders, and held him tight. "I know," Robert said quietly. "I know. It's all right now." "Really ?" Elenore asked, coming forward to join them. "D'you mean you're ready to join the rest of us, out there in the world ?" Robert shook his head, but his eyes were smiling. "Not exactly. This is still where I belong. Sherwood Forest. But - somehow I feel totally free !" Duncan nodded happily. "And what are you going to do with your freedom ?" The fair immortal thought for a moment. "I'll have to see. But - there is one thing I'd like to do." "Go on," Duncan said, as they wandered slowly back to the cave. "Claire's work on ancient woodlands. I'd like to carry on what she started. Of course, it'd mean going back to the beginnings, study -" His voice trailed off. "You can do it," Elenore said, slipping her arm through his. "You know you can." Robert smiled. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Think Connor could rustle me up the appropriate papers ? Could I pass for a mature student ?" Duncan laughed. "They'd never know how mature !" He stopped, and looked Robert straight in the eyes. "Good luck. And watch your head, Robert. Taran wasn't the only immortal with evil intentions." "I know," the fair-haired man said, his face serious. "But with Taran, it went deeper than just the Game. Taran was someone Herne had to deal with." "I understand that now. At least I think I do." He turned to see where Richie had was. "Ok, Richie ?" The young man was walking along in silence, his face thoughtful. He glanced up at MacLeod. "That was quite something. Where those people real, or what ?" "Call them ghosts, mirages - whatever you like. They were real to me," Robert said quietly. Elenore looked up at the stars, a slightly sad, faraway look in her eyes. "I'm so glad Marion is back in Sherwood," she said. "She never quite belonged in a convent." Lost in their own thoughts, they wandered slowly back to the cave. Richie's silent mood did not last long. Sipping a hot drink by the fireside, he looked at Robert and shook his head. "I just don't get it," he said. "What don't you get, Richie ?" Duncan asked. "Why Robert, when he's suddenly free to do anything he wants, should decide to go back to school. It's not what I'd do !" "I can imagine," Duncan laughed. "I think it's a great idea," Elenore said. "And a fitting tribute to Claire, if you finish her work. But where will you live ? You're not going to stay in the cave for ever, are you ?" Robert glanced around him. "Not all the time," he said. Then he laughed. "To tell the truth, I'll be glad to get somewhere else to live. These days, I seem to miss things like showers, washing machines and microwave ovens. I must be getting old !" But Richie still shook his head. "But Robert, what are you going to do about money ? I thought you were totally broke !" Robert smiled. "I was. But then some idiot went and paid a totally inflated price for this old sword of mine ..." And seeing the look in Duncan's eyes, Robert of Huntingdon began to laugh. For the first time in many, many years ... The end ... for now =========================================================================