Date: Sat, 6 Jan 1996 04:43:29 -0500 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Chapter 14, part 2 Blacksburg, Virginia 1969 *Adam, come quick, I need some help.* Carol's mental call had Methos snapping out of a sound sleep. He looked around, disoriented, and realized it was still in the middle of the night. *What's wrong?* He replied muzzily. *Just come quick, and get the car as close as you can.* Methos rolled out of bed and quickly pulled on a pair of faded jeans. It was late spring, but here in the Blue Ridge mountains the nights were still very crisp, so he also pulled a heavy sweater over his head and shoved his feet into a worn pair of sneakers. He yawned as he grabbed the car keys and staggered out of the apartment door, wondering what in the world was so bad that Carol didn't think she could handle it herself. *This way.* Methos followed her mental instructions, driving the car as close as possible, then hiking the rest of the way to a dark spot on the campus, near the chemistry building. The sight that greeted him as he rounded the corner of the building jolted him completely awake. There Carol stood, splattered in blood, trying to reason with a hysterical young man in his late teens. At her feet sprawled the bodies of three men, although a closer inspection revealed that one of them was still breathing, albeit unconscious. The shock finally wore off enough for Methos to realize that he was feeling the presence of another immortal, and that was the teenager whom Carol had finally managed to mentally knock out. "What . . . "he whispered, hardly knowing where to begin. "I don't know," she replied quietly. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a run. When I felt his mental distress, I came by to see what was up. Adam, they were just torturing him. Before I realized what was going on, the tall one over there stabbed him to death." Methos looked down at the body at his feet. The man had indeed been tall, easily 6' 2" or 6' 3", and dressed entirely too well for a professor. The other men were equally well-attired. If he hadn't known better, he would have taken them for visiting businessmen, or alumni. "Why would they do this?" "Let's find out." Carol knelt down beside the one still breathing, and gently laid her hand on the side of his face. Methos knelt beside her, and she took him along on her journey through the stranger's mind. A moment later, she pulled away and shared a puzzled look with Methos. "How did they *know* he was going to become immortal?" Methos shook his head, but an idea occurred to him. Cautiously, he gripped the left arm of the unconscious man, and pushed back his sleeve. Unsurprised, he showed Carol what was revealed. "A Watcher? But they've never done anything like this before that I know of. We need to find out more." Once again, she connected with the man's mind, and took Methos with her. Several minutes later, when she finally broke the contact, both she and Methos looked distinctly ill. Methos realized he was closer to vomiting in disgust than he had been in nearly 2,000 years. "How could someone be that . . . twisted?" he asked. Then, he remembered a face that they had both seen in the man's memories. "That was . . . him . . . wasn't it?" Carol merely nodded, her face ashen. "He's infiltrated the Watcher organization." She shuddered in distaste. "They weren't even one hundred percent sure that he would become immortal. This was . . . fun . . . for them." Her eyes lit on the now immortal teenager, still unconscious. "Whoever he is, he's too young for this, Adam." Visibly pulling herself together, she stood and surveyed the scene. "We'll have to dispose of the bodies carefully. And he'll need training once he's up and around." Methos nodded and lifted the first of the two bodies. "Can you make the surviving one forget all this?" Before he even finished the question, he heard the quiet snapping sound, and realized that there were three bodies to dispose of after all. Carol looked at him defiantly as she hefted the body of the man she had just killed, and staggered under the weight towards the car. Methos sighed and followed her. He couldn't blame her after what they had read in the man's mind. --------------------- Hunter Headquarters, Idaho, 1995 "I don't understand," Richie began. "If they didn't know for sure the guy was going to become an immortal, why did they kill him?" "Apparently, they kept records on people they suspected were going to become immortal some day, based mostly on the fact that they were foundlings. Orphans with absolutely no record of where they came from are not as common as you would think." Methos absentmindedly traced the Watcher tattoo on his wrist. "But why they did it was because they enjoyed it. If the victim came back as an immortal, they would behead them. If not, well, even a death squad has to have a little fun." "So you decided to infiltrate the Watchers?" Duncan asked. "Carol did, anyway. I didn't decide to join up until 11 years ago, when I realized that they were really intensifying their efforts to find me. Up until then, I avoided them as much as possible, doing the research while Carol infiltrated the group under various guises." He looked up from his 'tattoo' to find both of the immortals staring at him. "What?" Duncan and Richie shared a look, then Duncan asked the question that was on both their minds. "Weren't you *worried* about her infiltrating the Watchers like that?" Methos smiled as he realized what Duncan was really getting at. "You mean, why didn't *I* do it instead? Why, because she's a woman?" Duncan had the grace to look slightly abashed at the bald-faced question. "Because she is much better at that sort of thing than I am," Methos answered. "She can disguise herself as many different people, and could hide herself from Horton much better than I ever could hope to." He chuckled at their startled looks. "What? Did you think I was too macho to admit that a woman is better at something than I am?" "But, but, what about the danger?" Richie sputtered. "I mean, I know she's old and all, but she's such a tiny thing." "Richie, of course I worried about her, it *was* a very dangerous thing for her to do. But I was worried because I care a great deal, not because I didn't think she could handle it." The grin left his face as Methos sobered. "You are being taken in by surface appearances, Richie." He included Duncan in his look, hoping to drive home a particular point he'd been trying to make for a while. "She may look fragile, but she hasn't survived over ten millennia by *being* fragile. When you look at her, you think you see a small, perhaps weak woman. What you are really seeing is a powerful, dangerous immortal, who could kill you in a heartbeat if she wanted to. When you're dealing with her, it is important to remember that." The two younger immortals were quiet as they absorbed the warning behind Methos' statement. Finally Duncan broke the silence. "If she's that good, why were you so out of practice when you fought Kalas? Don't you two ever train together?" "No," Methos replied. "She won't spar with me." "Why not?" asked Richie, confused. "It brings back too many memories," he said, and shuddered at the remembrance. --------------------- France, @600 AD Grayson was finally able to move his arms and legs when he felt another immortal approaching. Clumsily, he rose to his hands and knees, desperate to get on his feet before facing his unknown foe. Before he could lever himself up, however, he felt the prick of cold steel against his neck. With no small amount of trepidation, he looked up into the eyes of the dark-haired man holding a sword to his neck. Gathering his pride, he announced, "I am Grayson, second-in-command to the great Darius. Will you allow me to my feet so this will be a fair fight?" "I have not come to challenge you, young one," the mysterious immortal replied, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I am looking for a small woman with a sword, and I see by your physical state that she has been by." Shame burned within Grayson, but he refused to show it to the stranger. Instead, he rose to a kneeling position, prepared to leap to his feet if given the opportunity. "She was indeed here," he spat, "but I sent her to her doom." He winced as the man maneuvered the sword under his chin, lifting his head. "Explain that remark, youngster," the immortal said with deadly calm. Grayson's temper exploded. "I am Grayson, stranger. You had better remember that!" "And I am Methos," came the quiet reply. "You had better remember *that*." Grayson's blood ran cold as he realized he was facing one of the ancients. ran through his terrified mind as well as stories he had heard about the invincible Methos. "I see you've heard of me. Now, again, where did the woman go." "She was looking for Darius," Grayson managed. "I merely told her where he was hiding." He willed himself not to flinch under the glare he was being given. Finally, Methos sheathed his sword and helped Grayson to his feet. "You will take me there," he said to the younger immortal. "And there had better not be any treachery." Unable to reply, Grayson merely nodded and led the way to the holy site where Darius hid. --------------------- Hunter Headquarters, Idaho, 1995 A slight noise from the room where the hostages lay broke off Methos' reminiscences. Duncan immediately shifted his attention to the room, searching for the source of the noise. Methos tried to see what was going on, but his view was temporarily blocked by the younger immortal. He finally managed to shove Duncan aside enough to peer into the room. Anne Lindsey was holding her rounded belly, a look of confusion on her face. Methos and Richie exchanged looks, as if to ask "what's going on?" Methos shrugged and turned his attention back to the room in time to see the very pregnant doctor double over, as if in pain. Her whimper was quite audible to the immortals in the corridor. Before Methos could even react, Duncan leapt to his feet and ran for the room. Shrugging, Richie scrambled to join his mentor. "Damn!" Methos muttered to himself. He didn't want to risk distracting Carol with the radio, so he began calling frantically in his head, hoping she was tuned in. He realized the minute she heard his call as her blast of anger nearly knocked him over. Sighing at the impatience of youth, he hurried to join the two immortals. --------------------- Duncan rushed into the room, afraid that something was wrong with the baby. He hurried to Anne's side, ignoring the arrival of the other two immortals. "Anne, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?" Anne looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Duncan, it's just a cramp. Thank you for coming, I knew you would." She sniffled a little. "Could you just get these stupid things off me?" She shook her leg and Duncan realized that she was shackled to the chair by leg restraints. She saw the direction of his glance and pointed, "The keys are in that drawer over there." While Duncan hunted in the desk drawer, he heard a door slam and the sounds of gunfire and clashing metal. Looking up, he realized that Carol had not been able to get to the troops, and Richie and Methos were fighting madly. Rushing back to Anne, he knelt at her feet to unlock the chains, trusting Methos and Richie to keep the troops at bay until he could get Anne free and out of the line of fire. As the key turned and the second set of shackles came loose, Duncan heard over the noise of fighting a familiar sound, that of a blade coming out of a sheath. "Anne, no!" he looked up in horror to see a nasty smile on Anne's face and the blade in her hands descending rapidly towards his neck. --------------------- /Notes/ "Ezkontza", or marriage, was only one of the many bonds recognized in the Herrialdaketa's elaborate familial structures. Their concept of marriage was rather different from the more modern, Judeo-Christian concept of a "love-match". Couples were usually ezkongaitu ("affianced" is the closest English equivalent, although "bonded" is also close) at an early age by the families involved. These mergers often involved property and family mergers, but a unique aspect of them was the breeding efforts. A family that had a history of powerful telekinetics, for instance, would often look to mate into a family with a different trait, such as empathy or the healing talent. These "marriages" ensured a healthy gene pool for the Herrialdaketa, and an ever increasing "talent" pool of offspring. Although the mergers were arranged in the children's youth, not all went off as planned. A family would not force a marriage if the children grew to dislike each other as adults. Also, in rare occasions, a family would not affiance a child, but allow the child to chose a mate as an adult. As noted before, the concept of marriage in the Herrialdaketa did not include the concept of monogamy. Married couples were free to have relations with others, and nothing was thought of it. There were also some cases of multiple marriages, both polygamy (multiple wives) and polyandry (multiple husbands), if all the parties involved were agreeable. Multiple marriages, while not frowned upon, were still not all that common, except in the more powerful houses, where passing on one's genetic heritage was actively encouraged. These ties of tradition enhanced the already convoluted family ties that were recognized in the family groupings. The Herrialdaketa had numerous ways of distinguishing family ties. For instance, in English the term niece refers to the child of one's spouse. In the Herrialdaketa, this was distinguished further between loba ("brother's-child) and iloba ("sister's-child"). Their methods of distinguishing the different classes of cousins within a clan could take pages to record. (to be continued in chapter 15) ---------------- Hmmmm, should I take 2 more months to finish chapter 15? :-) All questions/comments/criticisms/flames to me at: grinnyp@aros.net. Carol Ann grinnyp@aros.net ========================================================================= =========================================================================