Date: Mon, 5 Dec 1994 13:00:20 EST Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Brian Macleod Subject: The Battle of Evermore, part three ************************************************************************* ************************************************************************* ******************* H I G H L A N D E R ************************ ************************************************************************* ************ T H E B A T T L E O F E V E R M O R E ************* ************************************************************************* BY BRIAN PROCOPIO, BASED UPON THE FILM OF THE SAME NAME. COPYRIGHTED 1994, CHAOS PICTURES, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. _______________________________________________________________________ CHAPTER THREE _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ "Oh, dance in the dark of night, sing to the morning light... The Dark Lord rides in force tonight, and time will tell us all..." _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ The air was just a bit stifling for David Macleod as he walked along beside MacKenzie, their trenchcoats flapping in the slight breeze. The salty scent to the air, usually cleansing and almost sweet to him, was turning into more of a stale stench in the midwinter sun. Although the air temperature was below forty-five degrees, the effect of hot sun and warm winds from the ocean was becoming annoying. He persisted, though, for he could not remember the last time that MacKenzie was this talkative, this alive. He had woken Dave up this morning with the idea of buying a boat, of going out on the ocean for a bit. He had to think about it, no matter how much he wanted to help Brian recover, he had to think about it. Born and raised in the city, the closest thing Macleod had come to deep-sea sailing was probably surviving the raging river rapids at a Six Flags theme park. In the end, however, his tenative belief in his own immortality and his goal of one day becoming a psychologist won out over his common sense. Within the past hour, though, MacKenzie had become his usual brooding self, the small circular sunglasses with the dark green tint hiding most of whatever he was feeling. At least he wasn't wearing solid black again, that was a small start. Despite the earlier success with small talk, futher efforts down that road had little success, so David assumed it was time for an attempt at humor. "Ok, Mac, I have one for you, allright?" Macleod looked inquisitely at his mentor's face. Well, he thought, no reply is better than a negative. "Here goes... why did the immortal chicken cross the road?" he paused several seconds for a reply. MacKenzie delivered a disgusted look in his general direction. "Ok," finished Dave, "there was holy ground on the other side!!!!" MacKenzie stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes closed. "What's the matter, Bri, heard that one before?" Dave questioned. MacKenzie grabbed his student by the lapels and slammed him against the wall. "I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!!!!" He bellowed into Macleod's face. "What the hell is the *point* of anything anymore, ANSWER ME!!!!!! God DAMM it, Dave, don't you see? It's all a lie, there are no constants in this life we lead, but one, that we will Never Die, that we will live forever with this pain! WE CANNOT ESCAPE IT, DAMM IT ALL, MACLEOD!!!!!" David threw his arms up and out, forcing Brian to let go of his trench. He placed his hands on MacKenzie's shoulders and tried to reason with him. "KNOCK IT OFF, BRI! C'mon now, you've dealt with it this long, what the hell's the matter here?" "That's just the point," the older immortal bit back, "I've dealt with it this long, maybe I'm tired as all hell of this crap. The Game, life, screw it all!!!!" He turned and shrugged off David's hands. "Don't you see," he said quietly, "in all of my three hundred and forty-two years I've had to deal with so much loss, so many mortals and immortals alike dissapearing about me, victims of time. In this life I have had one thing supporting me through it all, and that was my honor. Nothing could eliminate that. Now, though, things are different. To kill Cole I was forced to break my vows to Ashley. Now," he gazed out glassey eyed at the horizon, "now I don't even have my honor, Dave." What can I say, thought Macleod... "Jesus, Mac, it's not that way at all!!! Don't you see, that was a promise made almost three centuries ago... besides, he killed *her*. Your actions were perfectly accepta--" "No." MacKenzie bit off as he spun around and pointed his finger into David's face. "No. *you* live a century or two and *then* you tell me what is acceptable! You don't know yet, you haven't seen an entire generation get older around you, while you stay young. You don't see the grandchildren of your friends die of old age. You Cannot Tell Me Yet!" A moment of silence settled uncomfortably around them. Brian turned away first, waving Macleod off. "Leave, allright? Just... I'll meet you at home later..." "Fine." remarked David as he turned and made his way back down towards Eighteenth Avenue. After a moment MacKenzie began to amble towards the bay a block away. It was all fruitless. All of these attempts to bring back the past. He kept searching his mind for ways to escape the pain, tricks that almost worked in the past. The idea of buying a sailing ship was just the latest reincarna- tion of a lost piece of his history... <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< The slight chill in the air forced MacKenzie to pull his overcoat a little bit tighter around him as he paced back in forth in front of Inde- pendance Hall. The relatively new red bricks of the structure's facade gleamed in the bright Philadelphia sun. Funny, he thought, they consider this building *old* here! Why, it was barely a century old, brand new by European reckoning... The buzz slapped him back to the present, and he scanned the pedestrians for signs of the newcomer's identity. As a horse-drawn carriage pulled up in front of the square, he finally saw the arriving immortal. "You're late again, Duncan," MacKenzie smirked as he clasped one of his teachers on the back. "Keep it up..." muttered Macleod as he swatted the back of Brian's head. "So," began Duncan as they began to walk down the cobblestoned avenue, "what brings you to Philadelphia?" MacKenzie's expression turned somber. "Still trying to escape the past, I guess." "It's a foolish wish, Brian, you should know that by now. It's part of who we are, what we are," Duncan stated, his hand on MacKenzie's shoulder. They continued walking on in silence for a block. Finally Brian blurted out, "But *why*? Why did she have to die? What's the point of the Game if we have to spend the rest of eternity suffering like this? Just... why...." Mac- Kenzie trailed off, out of steam. Duncan walked on next to his friend for a bit, then stopped. "Look, Brian, it happens, we go on. Sooner or later you have to learn to live with it or go mad trying. Besides," he grinned, "what makes you think you'll win the Prize and live forever anyway?" "Is that a challenge?" replied MacKenzie, a smile coming to his face. "I've been practicing, you know." "Is that so?" chuckled Duncan arrogantly. "Yes," returned Brian, withdrawing his sword from his coat. "Good," stated Duncan as he mirrored his pupil's action, "then maybe you're prepared to go with me after all!" "Oh no, not another Macleod adventure!" exclaimed MacKenzie as he slapped his face in mock agony. "Remember what happened *last* time we pulled one of those!!!!" "Yes," leered the elder Scot, "we had lots of fun, got very drunk, and met many a beautiful lass in the process!" "So," accepted Brian, "where to?" "I thought you'd see it that way!" laughed Duncan as he slapped Mac- Kenzie on the back. "The high seas, m'boy, we're being conscripted into her majesty's royal navy!" announced Macleod with a flourish of his hand. "You've got to be kidding me," muttered Brian as he shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, and Duncan?" he squeezed out in between a laugh or two. "Hmmm?" returned Duncan, his eyebrows upraised questioningly. MacKenzie hooked his foot in behind Macleod's knees, tossing his mentor to the ground. "I told you I've been practicing." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> He rose from the sand, the late afternoon sun casting a reddish glow about the narrow strip of beach bordering the bay. It was a noble idea, wasn't it... or at least novel. And then the way it turned up, shipwrecked in the South China Sea. It was another decade or two before he had even seen Macleod again. Ah well, it was an idea anyway. Lord knows why he thought buying another sailing ship could bring him around, give him a diversion.... _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ still going.... see you all in chapter four. comments always welcome, Macleod@vm.temple.edu =========================================================================