Date: Thu, 12 Jan 1995 07:48:04 -0500 Reply-To: mikester@BIX.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Mike Breen Subject: THE CHANGELING - PART II A few minutes later she felt a different sensation. She somehow _knew_ that someone had arrived. And Patrick entered the apartment, good as his word, with the guacamole. "That's..." she began. "Guacamole?" he said, smiling. "No, that feeling. That's... I can't describe it, but I knew you were about to arrive. I could somehow feel you. It's almost like there's this energy flowing between us. I noticed it before, but I thought it was something to do with a concussion I may have gotten or something. When you left, it was gone. And when you came back _it_ came back." Patrick said, "That's known, somewhat informally, as the Buzz. It's how we recognize other Immortals. It's how I knew you were Immortal before you even died. I felt it, ever-so-faintly, the first time I saw you in class." Nancy sat down, somewhat dejected and said, "So that's why you took an interest in me. Not because of my work." Patrick took her chin in his hand, turned her face to his, and said, "That was it at the beginning, the _very_ beginning. But you're a bright student, and exceptional. I would have noticed you eventually if you were mortal." Nancy smiled and said, "Thanks Doc... Patrick. I needed to hear that." "Now come on," he said, "The chicken's beginning to burn." They ate in the den with the TV tuned to some meaningless sitcom that neither one of them was really watching. Over dinner talk strayed to matters other than Immortality. Nancy spoke of her desire to become a researcher. Then she noticed on one of the end-tables a framed photograph of a woman in her early thirties with dark hair and eyes that smiled. She picked up the photograph and said, "She's beautiful. Who is she?" "That's the woman I recently broke up with," Patrick said. "Her name's Michelle." "You said she couldn't reconcile certain things with your relationship. Did it have anything to do with your Immortality?" "Yes," he said. "A certain thing that happens after you kill another Immortal frightened her. She had never seen it happen before." Nancy looked at Patrick, waiting for him to finish. When he said nothing, she said, "And? What happened to scare the crap out of her?" "Nancy, I think you've absorbed enough for one night. When the time is right you'll learn everything." She began clearing the places and got them both some beer out of the refrigerator. She returned to the couch and said, "Then tell me one thing." "Mm?" "How did it happen to you?" Patrick opened his mouth to reply and paused. He cracked open the beer and took a sip. Then he said, "It's a _long_ story, Nancy." Nancy said, "Well, we _do_ have forever." Patrick laughed and said, "Very well, then..." IRELAND, COUNTY CORK, APRIL 1181 "I don't care which bluddy God 'ee's got behind 'im, I'm _not_ giving up this land to a Norman overlord!" Donal O'Rourke slammed his fist on the table and said, "I say we fight! Fight for our way of life!" "Donal, calm yourself," Niall Mac Dugal said. "Nobody said anything about giving up the land. And think of the lives that would be lost." "But Ian," Donal said, "You've seen what's happened in the other towns. The people living under the yoke of the Norman lords, forced to pay tribute to the foreigners for the land they've worked since they were children, I won't have it here!" "You've been silent all evening," Niall said, "What say you, Patrick?" Patrick O'Brien thought a long time before saying, "Donal's right. We have to fight to preserve ourselves. But Niall's also right. There shouldn't be any more killing afterwards. If we loose, we loose. Agreed?" "Agreed," Niall said. Donal was silent. "Agreed?!" Patrick said, more firmly. Donal sighed and said, "I can agree only so far as to say as long as my wife and child aren't harmed. You have no child, Patrick O'Brien, so you can't _really_ understand. But that will have to be good enough for you." Patrick said, "I guess it will have to be." Niall turned to the other man who was in the room. He was big, with iron-grey hair and mustache. His eyes were sharp and wise. Niall said to the man, who would one day be known as Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, "What say you, swordsman?" Ramirez took in the three other men. They had been chosen by the villagers to lead the resistance because of their skills in swordcraft and combat. He had trained the three of them, but had taken a special interest in the one called Patrick O'Brien. And to all concerned, including Patrick, there was nothing more to that than a teacher taking interest in a promising student. That was certainly one reason for his interest in him. And maybe if Ramirez were mortal it would be the only reason. But it wasn't. Patrick O'Brien was Immortal. Not that he knew it himself, he hadn't died yet. But he was. It was unmistakable. Ramirez felt the faint Buzz from him on their first meeting, and whatever happened was to happen naturally, except that Ramirez couldn't help thinking it would happen soon. Too soon. He turned to Niall, who had taken a leadership role in this plan and said, "If you must fight, than fight well, and for the future of your home and children. But do not kill for pleasure. Then it will never end." Niall said, "So be it. And now we must plan. Ramirez walked with Patrick back to his house. He had a feeling that tomorrow's battle would be the day for Patrick. He sincerely hoped so. Patrick was at an age where he could defend himself. He wasn't so young that his body was not yet fully developed, yet he was young enough that he was in his physical prime. It would only be a few more decades before his mortal aging process would make him too old and enfeebled to pose a serious threat to someone like the Kurgan. And Ramirez had to find someone that had enough potential to defeat the Kurgan, yet with a strong enough soul that they wouldn't be overwhelmed by the enormous Quickening that they would receive. Somehow, Ramirez knew that he, himself was _not_ that one. But maybe Patrick O'Brien was. Acting on a hunch that he would find such an Immortal amongst the Celtic peoples of the British Isles, Ramirez found Patrick O'Brien ten years ago, a lad of fifteen. He sensed Potential from him. And the lad had taken to his training in swordcraft like a fish to water. He accompanied the resistance fighters that summer, 1171, when once-king Dermont returned to Ireland a puppet of the Normans of England. Dermont tried to win back his throne, but instead met death. The Normans, however, still overran Ireland and were busy placing their Lords over all the land. Patrick fought well, and nearly met his first death then, but Ramirez intervened, taking a sword in the gut for him. He died and revived before anyone noticed. Except for Patrick. But rather than drive the lad away, Ramirez's miraculous recovery only strengthened the bond between the two. Now, they were like brothers. And there was another reason why Ramirez hoped that Patrick would die tomorrow. He was twenty-five and married, and had been since he was seventeen. Yet like all Immortals, he could not have children. Some in the village were urging him to put Gwenna, his wife, down and marry another. Except that other also would never bear him a child. Someone may get suspicious. He turned to the young Irelander and said, "You may die tomorrow." "I know," Patrick said. "If you die, I just want you to remember that I'll be with you. No matter what happens, I'll be by your side. Goodnight." Ramirez walked off. Patrick stood outside his house, wondering what his teacher meant. He hugged his cloak around himself, feeling a chill, and walked inside. He found that Gwenna was still awake. He said, "Dearest, you shouldn't have stayed up." "You're going to fight, aren't you?" she said. "One battle only." "And do you really think that Donal O'Rourke will let it go at that?" "As long as I'm alive, then yes. And as long as Ramirez is alive, then yes as well." "And let's hope that's enough. You look troubled. Is it Donal?" "Nae, 'twas something Ramirez said to me. Do not worry yourself over it, love." The Norman lord came into town with a full contingent of knights. The villagers knew they were outnumbered, but Patrick, Donal, Niall, Ramirez, and many others were skilled swordsmen, having fought battles in previous springs. They met just outside the village, on a plain that had seen many a battle. The Norman lord sent a messenger to the village warriors asking them to send three representatives to meet with him. "Patrick," Niall said, "You and Ramirez accompany me. Donal, you stay here." "Nae," Donal said. "Have Ramirez stay here! I'm going." "Donal, no. We need you to stay with out troops." "I'm going! Ramirez or Patrick can..." "DONAL O'ROURKE!" All eyes turned to Ramirez, for he hardly ever raised his voice. But when he did, it was like lightning shattering a mountain. "Donal, you stay here," Ramirez said. "The three of us will accompany the Norman lord's messenger to his camp." Donal nodded and said, "Aye, Ramirez. I'll stay here." The Norman lord was an older man, yet fit and built like a skilled swordsman. Niall, Patrick, and Ramirez stood on the neutral site that had been chosen for this meeting. "Quite simply," the Norman said, "Your little island lost the battle ten years ago, and I've been assigned to overlook your village and this entire district." "But we just want to keep our way of life," Patrick said. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it will be." Ramirez spoke up. He said, "My lord, a simple promise that these people can retain their way of life _while_ serving you, that nothing, or not much, will change while you and your heirs are here, that would go a long way towards saving a lot of senseless bloodshed." The Norman looked Ramirez straight in the eye and said, "Who _are_ you? You're not an Irishman." Ramirez told him his current name and said, "I've lived with these people for ten years, my lord. And their way of life is no threat to yours." "I cannot promise that, sir. I am under orders by the King _and_ his Holiness Adrian IV. The only way to avoid bloodshed is for your men to step aside." Niall said, "So be it. Next time we meet will be in battle. The battle began at noon. The defenders numbers were so small in comparison to the Norman force that it was not long before it disintegrated into hand-to-hand combat. Often it was two or three Normans to one Irelander. Patrick was skillfully dispatching two Normans. Ramirez's odd Oriental blade (that he refused to tell anyone how it had been acquired) cut deep into the Norman force. The Normans would take this village, but they were going to have to earn it. Patrick, free from his two opponents, went to help Niall, who had three on him. But just before he got close to him, Niall took one in the heart and fell to the ground. "NO!!!" Ramirez heard Patrick scream, and attempted to make his way over to him, unsuccessfully. Patrick attempted to engage the three that had felled his friend. He cut through the first's neck, severing the head, and was dispatching the second when, the third snuck up from behind and ran Patrick's gut through. Patrick dropped his sword, sank to his knees, and stared at the blood, his _own_, on his hands and clothes. He felt cold and lightheaded. Donal was screaming something and Ramirez was running over to him. Sorry, Donal. Sorry, Ramirez. I've had a bit too much to drink. Can either of you walk me home and see to it that I don't fall in a dungheap on my way? And apologize to Gwenna for me on the morrow... <<>> (c) 1995 Mabnesswords Mike Breen e-mail me with comments. mikester@bix.com By the way, in case some of you are wondering about my treatment of Ramirez's name. I figure that in 1181 he was _probably_ not known as "Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez, chief metalurgist to King Charles V of Spain." 8) But it was never said (as far as I know) what his original name was, nor what his various other aliases were. So rather than make something up, only to potentialy have it negated by some mention in the series or movies, I just said "The man who would be known as Ramirez one day," refer to him as "Ramirez" after that, and have all the characters call him by his future Spanish name. It's also, I figured less confusing to the reader, since you know just what movie character we're talking about. =========================================================================