Date: Sun, 1 Oct 1995 18:39:55 -0400 Reply-To: Andrew Duty Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Andrew Duty Subject: War of Ages part 5 Culo waited patiently until the story was finished. As soon as Methos was done, a smile rose to Culo's lips. "Ha!", he laughed pounding his fist on the table. "I should have know it would be something like that. You always were the hero." "Let's just say I did what needed to be done." Methos took the last bite from his plate and noticed Culo was half way through his third serving. As he finished Culo put his plate aside as well and softly patted his stomach. "So, are we ready?", Methos asked. "Not quite. I thought we would let our meal settle for a bit. Tell me would you like a drink, perhaps a nice brandy?" Methos nodded slightly and followed him out into the hall, across to the den. The den was built in the far east wing. Two huge bay windows on the corner walls gave a wonderful view of the front and side yards. Culo placed a few logs onto the fire place and turned the gas on. Within seconds the room was filled with the sound of crackling wood and bathed in its soft yellow glow. Methos took a seat in one of the large chairs beside the fireplace. He waited as Culo went to the bar, poured brandy into two decanters, and returned with the drinks. Culo handed Methos the glass, then took a seat in the chair opposite of him. "So are you ready for this?", Culo asked. "Ive been ready for this for over five thousand years.", was his only response. "Yes. It will be good to finally finish it.", Culo said solemnly. "Well, this all could have finished with two centuries ago." "Yes....yes it could have." =============================================================================== Virginia 1795 =============================================================================== "So you are really going to do it.",Methos asked his gray haired friend as they walked down to the stable. "Don't act so surprised John, you always knew I would." "Yes I guess I did. Ever since the first day I hooked up with you rabble rousers." "Rabble rousers eh? I kind of like the sound of that." The man halted for a second and waited for John to stop as well,"Wont you reconsider? I need you on my staff. Men like you don't come by often. I doubt we could have built the government we now have with out you." "Thomas we have gone over this a thousand times. I don't like being out in public. That's your destiny not mine." "But don't you want to be remembered? Don't you want history to remember the contributions you have made?" "No I'm quite happy to let you and the others have the glory. The debt you feel I'm owed will best be paid by insuring this countries survival. I have done all I can to insure that and I am thankful you have heeded my advise on a few occasions. I am just a simple historian. Through out time several men's efforts have made a single man great. I am proud to have contributed to your greatness and I hope you will listen to my last piece of advise." Thomas looked into Johns eyes and could see what was coming. "This nation will never be free as long as long as members of it are not. Promise me if you attain the office you seek you will ensure all of this countries citizens have that freedom." "You know I have tried but it is going to take time. You have said yourself that change takes time. We might not see it in our life times but one day this country will see it. I promise my best for that is all I can do." "I hope so.",John said as he entered the stable."Because if you don't this country will pay the price of all societies that have practiced this before. The longer you wait for the change, the costlier the price. And the price we will pay will be our blood." Methos opened the gate to his horses stall. It was a good horse gray with a black mane and very fast. He would be sad to see this one go. He rode it out of the stable and waved at Thomas as he rode away. He was one of the most interesting men he had ever met, filled with contradictions, but in his heart a good man though sometimes misguided. As he rode through the forest, he felt hopeful for this countries future. He had seen civilizations like this rise before and he had always been saddened when they failed. This time felt different thought he felt they actually stood a chance. It had a solid foundation as long as those in power weren't corrupted like so many other rulers throughout time. In the distance up ahead a figure stood in the center of the road blocking the path. Methos slowed his horse just as the tingling sensation hit him. He was an immortal. Methos dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby tree. He then took out his cross hilt broadsword and approached the figure. He was a man of medium height. He wore a long blue coat and a large triangular hat. A long cup hilt rapier was cradled in his right arm and as he approached Methos could see the menace in his eyes. "I am Johnathan Carver of London.", Methos lied. "Don't lie to me!" the man spat."You are Methos the Ancient and I am here for your head." Methos squinted to get a better look at the strangers features; shrouded in darkness, "Do I know you?" "I am Phineus Miller!", he said expecting Methos to recognize it. "Is that suppose to mean something to me?" Millers face turned red with anger, "Of course it is! I am the best immortal ever to play the game and after I've taken your head, I'll finally be able to prove it!" Methos was frustrated. He was so tired of this game he was forced to play. He had resorted to alias's for the express purpose of avoiding situations like this. "If that is who you believe I am, then it would be wise for you to leave." A blind rage overcame Miller, he charged forward lashing out at Methos. Methos dropped back into a guard and effortlessly parried the blow. Miller broke into a lethal combination of blows from upper right cuts to lower left slices. Each attack met with a leisurely parry. Methos was unimpressed by Millers assault. He was good, he may have even taken a few heads, but he was no master. With in minutes Miller was drawing deep breaths while Methos hadn't even broken a sweat. As they exchanged blows, Methos realized the true jeopardy was not losing his head but his privacy. If he let this one go, it was sure to spread through the community that Methos truly existed. In fact, during the battle, Methos wondered how the immortal before him knew who he was. He couldn't accept the risk of his identity being revealed, he had too valuable a quickening. If the Kurgan received it there would be no force on earth that could stop him. Besides the immortal before him was dangerous in his own right. He had tracked Methos and was young enough to believe he had a chance of wining that made him a threat. As exhaustion began setting in, Miller became furious at the humiliation he was suffering. He summoned all of his might and charged right at Methos, blade aimed for his heart. Methos didn't even move, he waited just for the right moment, then swung a single blow that sliced evenly through Millers neck. The body ran another step forward like it hadn't noticed it lost its head then fell to the ground. Methos stood up straight and held his sword, tip into the ground. He closed his eyes and let the quickening over come him. He did not scream, he did not speak at all. He simply let the energy run its course, and when it was over he pulled the sword from the ground. Methos was momentarily confused. The quickening had been absorbed but he still felt another immortal. He quickly realized, Miller had help in finding him. He looked up to the ridge of the hill, by the road, and saw a tall man coming down it. He was dressed in a long black coat and, as soon as he came out from the trees shade, Methos instantly recognized him. "I should have seen your hand in this,Culo.", he spat. "I spent an eternity tracking you down ,Methos. I wanted to make sure you couldn't get away so I sent you a little offering to keep you occupied." Methos brought his sword up into a defense, his blood boiling with rage. He could see Culo had kept up his training over the centuries. The muscles of his arms seemed to want to burst out of its sleeves and the huge two handed sword he carried, looked like it could cleave through a horse in a single blow. "You didn't have to worry.", Methos said, "I stopped running from you since before Rome had formed. But, I am surprised. I thought someone had taken your ugly head centuries ago." "Oh please! There isn't an immortal alive strong enough to take my quickening, not even the Kurgan. I just didn't feel the need to advertise my existence to everyone in the world. Really, Methos, I never would have found you if I didn't see your hand in all of this. And for what? This little rebellion will last, what, a few decades. How soon do you believe it will take before these peasants come begging back to England for forgiveness. You jeopardized your head for a society that probably wont live to see the next century." "Only someone that knew me as well as you do would ever recognize my contribution to the Revolution. As you can see, I was just on my way out of this life, when you arranged this little ambush." "All that matters is I have found you and can finally take your head. It has been my central preoccupation for the past thousand years." "Well, its good to be wanted.", Methos joked. "Lets get on with it." The two men grew closer to one another, discarding their coats. Once within a few feet, the stood up straight and saluted one another with their swords. Culo delivered the first blow but Methos quickly ducked and blocked it away. As the blows were exchanged Methos felt young again. As they fought Methos was once again the warrior of his youth, not the tired old ancient that avoided conflict when ever possible. He was amazed at how quickly it all fell back into place. Culo had always had the advantage of sheer strength, so Methos always concentrated on speed and agility. His years as a hunter had taught him that all things have their weaknesses. If they were exploited a man could defeat a beast many times his size and Methos did his best to exploit Culo's. The struggle was long and fierce. Both men knew the other too well to win by a trick or unexpected move. So they danced the dance they danced for centuries with neither gaining the advantage for very long. Culo had yet too land a single cut but his blows were so powerful, that each block Methos performed weakened him. Methos how ever darted in and out of the sword swings and had been able to nick Culo several times, but usually they would heal seconds later. As the battle continued they both grew tired. The speed Methos counted on was quickly deserting him, while the severity of Culo's blows grew lighter and lighter. Finally, with a shout of rage, Culo lunged with all of his might knocking Methos to the ground. Methos tried to hold his sword up in defense but by the time he hit the ground Culo had already swung a second blow into his arm knocking the sword away. Methos looked up into Culo's eyes with the realization he had finally lost. A feeling of contentment came over Methos as Culo held the blade to his neck. He slowly rose to his knees and closed his eyes as Culo pulled the sword high into the air for the final blow. Memories flooded through his brain. After so many years it was over. Methos thought when this time came he would be afraid but now he knew he was ready for it. It was hard to be ungrateful for over five thousand years of life. He had seen more than anyone could imagine. Part of him was glad it was finally over. Methos just knelt there then began to wonder why it was taking so long. He opened his eyes and could see Culo trying to bring the sword down. He did a few false starts and then finally stopped all together. His eyes never left Methos, who's eyes were filled with puzzlement. Culo let the sword fall to his side. He turned and went back up over the hill. Methos knelt their for hours trying to understand what had just happened. ====================================================================== =========================================================================