Date: Tue, 25 Oct 1994 01:36:39 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: the dungeon of souls Subject: "Unwelcome Inheritance" Act II, part 1 "Unwelcome Inheritance" by Caile Donachaidh Kane Act II, part 1 comments (&flames) to NOTE: Act II! Finally! Sorry for the delay :) _Act II_ _Part 1_ Duncan gazed in amazement at the pair of monstrous crates sitting on his living room floor. It had taken the delivery man, Richie, Charlie, and himself to tote the damned things up here. Now, he waited for Shae to get out of the shower before opening them. He rifled through the shipping papers. The collection was insured for $250,000 dollars, plus an added shipping poilcy of $100,000 from Lloyd's of London. This had better be a pretty spectacular bunch of swords, he reflected, if she's spending *this* kind of money. Shae came out then, still in her robe. Her hair was damp and she had a wide - eyed morning look about her. When she saw the boxes, however, the sultry air was lost, and she became as an excited child. She hurriedly yanked on her gloves. "Give me a hand, will you?" With Duncan's help, she pried open the lid of the first crate and began digging amongst the wrappings. The first thing she pulled out was wrapped in chamois and about 4 1/2 feet long. "Duncan? Is there someplace I can set these?" "Oh, yeah, here." He gathered up the chess pieces off the table and set them aside. Shae laid the parcel down gently, and pulled out another, somewhat larger and wrapped as the first. She set it next to it. She took out three more bulky packages, each of these wrapped in oil cloth. She opened each slightly, and then put them down on the couch with a clank. She smiled apologetically at Duncan's questioning look. "Practise stuff," she said, and went back to the crate. Next were a matched pair of rosewood boxes, which were laid delicately down on the table. Shae rummaged some more in the box, and then moved on to the next. She pried off the lid on her own this time, and started digging. First were towo more long boxes, black lacquered this time, and one with a gold lion on it. The first she put with the rest, the one with the lion she handed to Duncan. "Take a look," she said softly. He cautiously undid the latch, and sat down with the box across his knees. He took a deep breath, and opened the lid. Inside was an exact replica of Shae's necklace, the lion katana, so detailed that it was hard to tell which was the copy and which was the original. Only this one was full size, and razor sharp. The handle seemed to beg to be held, the lion's bared teeth to snarl. "May I?" She nodded. "Of course." He lifted the sword from the box, and set the box aside. He stood up with it in his hands, taking a couple of practice swings. It was just so beautiful. it felt like it was meant to be swung in battle - hell, it probably *was*. He thought that this sword alone was worth whatever insane amount of money Shae paid on the insurance. "There's no other like it, is there?" he asked. Shae smiled, and shook her head. "It's the only one of its kind. It was commisioned by my grandmere for my sixteenth birthday. She has a close friend who is a swordmaker in Kyoto. That's his mark on the bottom of the blade." Duncan looked at the mark, the Japanese character for eternity, and the date 1988 beneath it. "That is truly an exceptional peice of work," he said, putting it back in its box. "I know," Shae replied. "But wait, there's more!" The next seven were all wrapped in chamois, each one marked with some embroidered crest that seemed to tell Shae what they were. Upon second glance, Duncan noticed that the wrappings of the two larger bundles on the table had crests as well. At long last, they were all arranged on the tables and couch, and Shae was triumphantly holding the last package. It was a few inches more than three feet long, and the wrappings were black chamois. There was no crest. "This is the family pride and joy," she said. "It comes with the name and the training." Duncan watched in anticipation as she undid the wrapping and laid it aside. It was simply the finest sabre he'd ever seen. She handed it to him. It was an amzing piece of work. The pommel was a pair of inverted silver triangles, set one overr the other. The handle was of dark wood, carved in a braided criss-cross pattern. The guard was silver as well, hammered wide at the top and narrowing to a fine tiny point where it met the pommel. The blade was of the finest steel, and it glittered wickedly as he twisted it under the light. "How old is this?" "About 800 years old, I believe. It's been in the family since the beginning." "It's beautiful." he gave the sword back to her, and she wrapped it up again, laying it carefully aside. "No one fights with it, because it's so old. It would probably hold up, as the steel is magnificent, but we respect it too much." Duncan nodded. "I can seee why." "Would you like to see the others?" "If they're anything like these two, yes." "I don't think you'll be disappointed," she replied with a grin. "Why don't you pick one, and I'll tell you about it." He thought it over. "All right." He picked up the largest of the chamois bundles, some 5 feet long and heavy as hell. "This one," he said. She smiled mischievously as she unwrapped it for him. It turned out to be a massive sword. "*This* is a piece of work." "A claymore? Where on earth did you find it?" He took the sword from her, admiring the craft. The fittings were iron, inculding the Crusader's cross that served as a pommel; the handle was some heavy wood. It was at least five feet in length, and weighed *alot*. It reminded him of the one his father had given him when he came of age, and a brief pain ran through his chest. "And how old is this one?" he asked. "Actually, it's only about two years old. I had it made, in the original claymore style." "It's great. Can you swing it?" "Yes, but... not in here." "Of course. Let's see, what's next?" He looked like a child at Christmas, Shae thought, as he selected another. It turned out to be the favourite of her four epees, the one with the silver filligree guard. She told him a short story about its maker, a Swede whose steel was supposed to be the best in the business. They went through the collection piece by piece, Duncan choosing, Shae telling him each sword's history. A lump came into his throat as he watched her gloved hands linger lovingly over the handle of the lion katana. She told him how Kobayashi, the maker, had said that he had charmed the blade for her, so that it would never strike in vain. Duncan could only smile. After the last one had been inspected and lectured on, Shae turned to him with an expectant look. "So that's it," she said. "Those are my children." "They're lovely." He took her hand, pulled the glove off, and kissed it. He did the same with her other hand. Then he took her two bare hands, and pressed them together. "But do you still want to go through them again, like this?" He looked down at her hands. She followed his eyes. "Yes. I need to. But I don't particularly *want* to. What I wish for my hands is to have them here..." She began sliding her hand up his shirt, but he pushed it away and took her by the wrist. He held her hand up between them. "You can't forget this, Shae, as much as you'd like to. But do you, or do you not want to find out? Something? Remember, it was *your* idea." She nodded, looking defeated. "Then *this* is the way." Before she really knew what he was doing, he'd taken the lion katana from its box, and wrapped her fingers around the handle. Japan. An old man, showing her through a garden. Calling her forth to show her a sword, giving it to her, bowing, calling her "Ancient One." Two samurai charging in, shoving the old man roughly aside, demanding to know if she was a Minamoto or a Taira. She was falling to the ground, the sword being jerked from her hands, then looking down at the welling blood. She had been cut suritsuke - a deep slash across the torso. But was the old man all right? Blackness. The sword dropped from Shae's hand as she looked up at with terror in her eyes. He did not ask what she had seen or felt, only took her in his arms and let her cry. *************** further parts will be forthcoming =========================================================================