Date: Sun, 11 Feb 1996 21:58:35 -0500 Reply-To: NSumsion@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Nathan R. Sumsion" Subject: The Value of Friends (3b/10) The Value of Friends Part 3b of ten by Nathan R. Sumsion The Magyar calmly got off of his motorcycle and drew his sword from out of his bag. He had herded the other Immortal here, down into this spillway under a little-used bridge. The other man had attempted to flee at first, but soon realized the futility. He drew his blade. "Michael Berry." The Magyar grinned, tossing his black hair back with a flick of his head. "I have gone by many names, little child. But I am most commonly known as The Magyar." Berry didn't react, and The Magyar could only sigh at that one pleasure that was denied him. With some of the older, more seasoned Immortals, the mention of his name would illicit instant recognition. And more often than not, fear. Berry was waiting for his opponent to attack, so The Magyar obliged him. His sword was large, a Claymore difficult to pick up by most men, much less wield. Which was evidently exactly what his Berry had been thinking, for he was immediately surprised at the speed with which the attacks were coming. He couldn't even begin to prepare a coordinated defense. The blows rained down on him savagely, brutally. The Magyar wasn't even trying to penetrate his defenses, merely wear them down. The Magyar was detached as he was fighting, only paying a minimum of attention to his opponent. He was looking around for something... something he didn't know exactly where he would see it... or what it would be... There! He saw it, just to the side of them on the bridge. He saw the reflection of light off of a lens. That would be the mortal observing Berry. He knew where the observer was located now. He turned his attention fully back to the other Immortal now. And smiled. And Michael Berry could only shudder at that smile. Shudder, and know that he would not be returning home tonight. He knew that his very essence would be feeding this man before him, this man that towered over him and was pressing him back as fast as he could move into one of the bridge supports. Berry saw what was happening, but could do nothing about it. He was being forced back into the bridge support, where he would have nowhere to maneuver. And that would be the end. But to avoid this, he would have to drop his guard in order to attempt to get away. He gritted his teeth and tried to mount an attack but it was useless. His arms were too weary, his shoulders numb from the pounding they were receiving. His back his the support and, seconds later, his sword clattered to the concrete. The Magyar didn't gloat, didn't taunt, didn't force his opponent to wallow in his defeat. Berry's head hit the ground only a second after his sword. ******************************* The Watcher had shielded her head at the onset of the Quickening. It was amazing, just as bright and as powerful as it had been described to her. She sighed, knowing now that she would have to sum up Michael Berry's chronicle and request reassignment. What frustrated her the most is that she didn't know who this large biker was. She had arrived too late to catch their words as they had exchanged names. She peered over the edge of the bridge, but she couldn't see the other Immortal. Merely the headless corpse lying sprawled on the ground. If she could get a good look at his face, she might be able to figure out his identity from the Watcher database. That was, if he ever came out again from under the bridge. Where was he? His bike was still there, so he obviously hadn't left yet. A soft clink of metal on concrete sounded from behind her. She spun around and shrieked in fright. There he stood, not three feet away from her, and his sword was already making it's way down... ******************************* end part three. Please send any comments to me at NSumsion@aol.com =========================================================================