Date: Fri, 2 Dec 1994 17:02:30 EST Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Brian Macleod Subject: The Battle of Evermore, part two ************************************************************************* ************************************************************************* ******************* 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 TWO _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ "I hear the horses thunder, down in the valley below... I'm waiting for the Angels of Avalon, waiting for the eastern glow..." _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ She reached over and slammed down the sleep button on the alarm clock, opening her eyes hesitantly against the morning sun. "Wait a minute," she thought instantly. Her eyes opened too easily, and the fact that the buzz she felt was not coming from the still silent clock beside her. She looked down upon the form of her sleeping husband. Damm, she was always a little bit better at sensing other immortals than he. "Kevin, c'mon dammit!" Jenny Cameron hissed as she shoved his inert from the bed. So much for gentleness. Some times it took that little bit extra... The buzz hit the waking form of Kevin Walsh a split second before his face collided with the floor of the room, enabling him to experience all of the pain and all of the confusion of the two events at once. As he recov- ered his balance and began to rise to his feet once more he was slapped in the face by a handful of clothing. "Let's go, dear, they're waiting!!!!" Jenny exclaimed as she pushed past him and looked out the window. She was, to Kevin's amazement, already dressed and carrying her sword, her medium-length curly black hair falling down about her black fatigue-style clothing. As she surveyed the exterior of the house she pulled her usual full length black cloak about her. "It's him again," she stated bluntly, "it looks like he's brought a colleague along too..." "So much for getting away with the two against one arguement again," muttered Walsh as he pulled a light sweatshirt over his thin frame. Not quite wiry, but not exactly hulking for that matter. He reached over the bed and pulled his saber from the wall. "I though we lost him in New York! How the hell does he keep tracking us... damm," exclaimed Kevin. "Well they've certainly discovered us well enough, *again*" she sighed as she dragged her husband down the steps. "Now, let's just behead the idiots and get on with our plans to go visit Laurana, shall we?" _______________________________________________________________________________ The elder stirred slightly, so rare for dreams to come to him once more. Ah, not the dreams, the memories, so lost within the corridors of time that dreams might be all they really are... He felt the edges of the rocks bite into his flesh once more as he pulled himself up and over the final ledge. A strange aura of peace engulfed him as he made his way into the cave... a feeling of goodness that he hadn't felt since... the incident. He knew he was safe here, that no one would harm him, no one would drive him out... He ignited a small blaze to fill the cavern with warmth. Night was coming on soon, and with it the cold, the penetrating and harsh cold. The cold glazed his skin in this strange corner of the world, but refused to kill him. Like so much else... Beasts, other men, nothing would penetrate to the core and end his wandering, his miseries... As sleep began to take him, he was stirred by a presence. The feel was.. familiar, but strange. Overpowering almost. He opened his eyes and looked into those of a kind man, a wise man. The newcomer smiled in greeting, and jabbered in some strange tongue. His intent was clear enough to Cain, he wanted him to follow him deeper into the cave. Cain grabbed some of the kinderwood and created a crude torch, and followed the holy man deeper into the stone passage. They progressed steadily downward, the air becoming thicker as they went along. The small and spry man proceeded with little problems, but Cain was forced to stop every so often for breath. Finally they reached what, Cain assumed, was their destination. Strange picturelike squiggles covered the walls here, a rough and crude pigment dye. Cain recognized it as written language, something he had seen before, during his travels through the land south of his home, the place of red hot sands and massive sculptures in the earth. He knew not how to read, but... there was something about this wall, something which he knew... He began to run his fingers along it, following the columns of writing, reading the inscriptions clearly... A story was being told here, a great battle between godlike beings, one that still continued to this day! He knew, somehoe, he knew, that he too was a participant in this war, he knew from the day of his brother's death, when, after beating him senseless, he ripped his brother's head from his shoulders in a fit of rage, the powerful storms of the lightning god described within this passage, the moons and moons of wandering, seeing more seasons change than the normal mortal alotment. He read further on, a listing of rules of sorts, the outline for combat between these beings. The sanctity of certain lands, like the one upon which he now stood; the mandate that only one will remain within the end, and that he will control the power of them all; the warning that no two warriors can attack an individual third... and the final listing, the prediction of the one to come. "From the Highlands of a Northern Isle shall come the most skilled, the most powerful...." He awoke, in a cold sweat. Now. He must send his students now. Which of the Highlanders was the one foretold, for so many showed the gift... Connor Macleod, who defeated the Kurgan, one of his finest students, and one of the only ones he allowed go on for so long without guidance. The kinsman Duncan, who slayed Grayson in the same manner. MacKenzie, who killed the one named Cole just weeks before. Or the new one, the youngest Macleod... He rose from the straw pallet, and headed towards Antonio's room. It was time.... _______________________________________________________________________________ _______________________________________________________________________________ Well, see you all in a few! (btw, the song quote is from Led Zepplin's "The Battle of Evermore") E-mail with comments! Macleod@vm.temple.edu =========================================================================