Date:         Sun, 18 Feb 1996 08:32:36 -0700
Reply-To:     Hank Wyckoff <wyckoff@AG.ARIZONA.EDU>
Sender:       Highlander TV show stories <HLFIC-L@PSUVM.PSU.EDU>
From:         Hank Wyckoff <wyckoff@AG.ARIZONA.EDU>
Subject:      (10B/30) Reading the Endtrails -- HL Posting

This chapter has been split because of the maximum line rule

The Cycle of Axer Carrick, Part 4
Reading the Endtrails (10B/30)
A continuation of: When the Veil is Lifted
                   The Duplicity
                   Frostmelt


When she died, it wasn't in the heat of battle, but in cold
blood.  I wanted her to suffer, and I wanted her to die.
Even though she died that day, she won the war.  I also
realized that though she had schemed to take my head, I
loved her more than I did Ulla.  It wasn't lust -- that had
faded long before my mental clarity did with the drinking.

I had loved Ingrid because she understood me.  Forget the
fact that she had been a Byzantine schemer -- she understood
me, my needs, my loves, my hates...  Ulla never could, and I
could never make her understand.

Memories came back as I regarded the headless corpse.  I
remembered the good times we had, the joking, the laughter,
and the tales we both had to tell.  I might have been
married to Ulla, but I was much closer to Ingrid -- and
could still call her a friend.

My heart emptied that day, and though my soul ached, I
didn't shed a tear for her.  I stared at her body,
desperately wishing that the head would come back on, and
her Quickening would return.  In a moment of madness, I even
put the head back on, and howled when the head rolled back
off.

The memories still flooded through me, and I realized it was
time to move on, but I would do it the right way.  I went to
Sidhatt's house and called out for him.  Warily, and seeing
me half-naked with the blood all over me, he approached.  I
engaged him in a fight, and he killed me in front of some
witnesses.

As I lay dying, and he stood above me with a half-baffled
face, I whispered so that only he could hear, "This is all
for a reason.  I had to leave this land with honor -- it is
the only way you could be with the one woman you love: Ulla.
Yes, I know about it!  You have slain me in a fair fight,
and so you have every right to take my woman!"

And so I died.  Nowadays, it was becoming popular to bury
all corpses, but they waited for seven days to make sure I
was dead.  In order to keep up appearances, I would strangle
myself to death every time I woke up.  The seven days
passed, and I was buried without any ceremony.  The church
did it, and I had no witnesses at all -- friends or enemies.

When the time came, I clawed my way out the ground, and was
surprised to find Ulaf sitting on a rock, waiting for me.
His head was tilted, and he wore a frown, "How do you feel?"

I looked shocked, perhaps with the sanest face that I had
for years.  I was suddenly afraid of how Ulaf would think of
me.  "I'm alive."

He pointed to his heart, "But how do you feel in here?"  He
pointed to his heart.

I understood, "Better in some ways."

"Sometimes, a man needs to walk through the darkness, and I
think you did well.  It's only a sin if you stay in the
darkness."

I must have looked at him oddly then.  "Who are you?"  Many
suspicions ran through my head.

Ulaf smiled.  He understood what I meant.  "Ulaf, priest of
Heimdall."

I wasn't interested in his religion, and he understood.  He
took it well -- it was like my refusing a cup of tea --
nothing serious or offensive.

With his help, I made my way to the village disguised as a
monk.  I learned that my name was spoken with great hatred,
but at least I was a dead legend.  Nobody ever suspected my
true nature, and satisfied, I moved on.  Ulaf would make
sure that nobody ever put all the hints together.

As luck would have it, I found the selfsame captain who
brought me here to Iceland.  He was much older now, but
remembered me and greeted me with a warm heart.  "Remember
what I said?  If you don't chain down those you love, they
return."

The next day, we sailed for France.  Ireland and the Isle of
Britain were forgotten from my mind -- I would not be
returning there for a few centuries.  There was a whole
world to see and I was going to discover it.

***********************************************************

Nat was dabbing at her eyes and nose with a Kleenex,
sniffling a little too.

Axer blew out a puff of smoke, "Just like truth and humor
come from simple things, so does great evil arise from the
simplest things.  Tell Nick that when he starts moaning to
you about his great evils.

"But I would ask you a favor, Doctor.  Don't breathe a word
of this to anyone.  I had totally forgotten about this until
the nightmare brought my memories back up."

"Will you tell Kate?" she asked softly.

"What good will it do for her?  Both of us were happy
without the knowledge -- it would be kindest to let the past
remain buried by the past."

"Why did you tell me, then?"

"We all need to tell someone our stories, but only to
someone objective.  I love Kate with all my heart, and I
would spare her any pain that my past might give her."

Kate had sat on the other side of the door the whole time,
listening in.  Nat may have heard a sad story, but Kate had
gained something pretty profound from it.  She closed her
eyes very tightly.

*******************************************************

Sorry, but the chapter ends here.

HyperventilatE-mail is accepted.
---------------------------------------------------------
Henry Wyckoff  -- wyckoff@ag.arizona.edu
Q:   Want to know how to conserve bandwitdth?
A:   We all stay off the web and watch the servers shut down.
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