Part 9 Eat, drink, and be merry

Duncan and Rich hadn't noticed the approach of the other immortals. Their own argument and the tingling felt constantly during the Gathering had been enough of a distraction. Now the Kurgan was here. And the tank-like woman who had tried to kidnap Amanda. And the bald man known as Jerusalem. And several others. All engaged in battle.

Or, rather, mock battle. As Connor and Methos had, the most powerful immortals in the world were feigning insult, indignation, and injury as they abandoned any notion of form or style in a melee where opponents were switched at the drop of a hat and languages were heard that not even this city could remember.

Their audience was now uncomfortably large for any immortal but it was rapt, and roaring. Grayson was here and clearly in his element, prancing the length of the "battlefield" to declare that this indeed was his greatest enemy, stabbing while the other immortal wasn't looking, then finding another greatest enemy who wasn't looking.

But the star of the show was the Kurgan. He roared and swung his huge sword menacingly, then collapsed in a dead heap at the slightest blow. Only to rise up again and look ferocious. Duncan panicked for a moment as the Kurgan spotted Connor engaged with an immortal he didn't know and charged toward him. Only to see the Kurgan grab his brother and tickle him, "I never promised not to do this, Highlander! Hahahahahaha!" The Kurgan could really laugh.

Duncan and Rich exchanged glances and shook their heads simultaneously, bringing slight smiles to both faces. "Now I'm sorry I didn't bring my sword."

Joe joined them, "I've read the chronicles going back more than 3000 years – there has never been anything like this. Not even close."

Methos trotted over – there was certainly no need for an even number of immortals and fair fights. "That's what happens, I guess, when four of us spend more than a minute in one spot. Everyone converges. Kronos is nearby. Ramirez, too, I believe. And others. Maybe all of us."

The bald man joined them as well. "I had the same thought. Is there any way we can get everyone's attention?" That looked close to impossible, given the spread and volume of the merriment.

Joe thought for a second, then fired his gun into the air. This was a place that recognized gunfire. Quickly to the crowd, "Sorry folks, nothing to worry about. Just blanks. Takes a lot to get these clowns to pay attention. Actors!" he harrumphed. Audible relaxation.

The bald man stepped forward, "I have found a place where we can . . . rehearse without disturbing anyone. Please see me for the information." Some of the immortals trotted forward, accompanied by not a few members of their audience.

Joe took over, "I'm sorry, no viewing of the rehearsal. Because . . ."

Methos jumped in, "Because we're afraid you won't want to pay to see the final performance."

"Yes, that's what we're afraid of." The crowd began to disperse.

The tank-like woman approached Jerusalem first. "What time?"

"Midnight." She walked off.

Grayson was next, "I trust you and your misguided morals, Duncan MacLeod. What is this about?"

Duncan answered, "He owns a place where the quickenings don't seem to draw attention. Some of us were there last night."

Grayson turned to the bald man and received a card with an address. He inclined his head slightly to the group and moved on. Several others followed, but not enough. "This isn't working," Jerusalem said to Methos.

"I can move things along a bit." Methos turned halfway around and yelled, "Kronos, this is where I will be tonight!" Kronos appeared instantly. A moment later, so did Cassandra from another vantage point. They took the address cards wordlessly, glaring at Methos the entire time. Cassandra then hovered near Duncan while Kronos headed back the way he came.

"Let me try," said Connor, grinning. "Kane, if you want me, this is where I'll be!"

"I'm right here."

The group whirled to find the magician behind them. "Nice trick. You're looking well, considering," the Highlander taunted while handing over a card.

"I can't decide whether to kill you first or your sad excuse for a brother."

"Centuries stuck in cave and you still haven't made up your mind?"

Kane looked to be surrounded by fire for a moment, then he walked away, his feet not seeming to touch the ground.

Before anyone had a chance to comment, a strong buzz was felt. A pale, thin man with a shaved head was approaching. He had everyone's attention, even the Kurgan's. "Soon you and I will be the last ones left, Connor MacLeod, as I foretold."

"Not if I kill you first." Despite his pain, Duncan keenly felt the need to avenge the torment Kell had inflicted on his brother.

"You're only alive by chance, Duncan, and your good fortune ended with the Gathering. I shall kill you in your brother's sight, so he may suffer that much more." He strode off.

"Don't worry, Highlander," the Kurgan addressed Connor in his baritone. "I'll make sure you aren't the last two." After taking a card, the Kurgan ran his sword across his chest twice, drawing a good deal of blood, "Cross my heart and hope to die." He moved away, chuckling. Joe shuddered – the writings on the Kurgan didn't do him justice.

Several other immortals then approached and departed, leaving Joe checking his hand device. That's most of them, but no Ramirez, Kalas, or a couple others." He faced Rich, "You wanna tell Kamir?"

Rich paused, then admitted "Haven't seen him in almost two days." Another pause. "He might be dead."

"He's not." came simultaneously from several corners.

Richie didn't seem the slightest bit surprised. "I didn't expect him to stay much longer. The teacher-student thing doesn't go this far into the Gathering." At the description of their relationship, Duncan winced. "I learned a lot from him, MacLeod. Not as much as I did from you, but at least he never tried to kill me."

"Not yet," put in Methos. Richie glowered at him but said nothing.

Jerusalem spoke up, "I believe I can ensure that the remainder are informed. One caution: it may be difficult to leave once we are all gathered. The circle is tight even now. Come prepared."

With the area now almost clear, Duncan intended to continue his conversation with Richie, but a voice distracted. The Voice – Cassandra's.

She put her hand on his arm and said softly, "I'm deeply sorry about Amanda." For a moment, Duncan could see the old Cassandra. Then she darkened again. "But how can you still be at his side, Duncan? It was bad enough before, but the Gathering! What if he wins the Prize? He may be the biggest killer of all."

Duncan stepped away from her touch, "Was, Cassandra. Was. How many centuries have to pass before he gets another chance?"

She laughed, a frightening sound. "If I killed thousands, then tortured your little student here for years before taking his head, how many centuries would you let me live to have another chance? Methos should be long dead, and he will be soon. Stay out of my way, Duncan." Duncan found himself involuntarily moving out of her way as she left.

Of the group, only Methos was unaffected by that voice. The other men shook their heads as if trying to remove cobwebs. Joe looked instinctively at his computer, almost for comfort – "Sorry, guys, but it's not over yet. Richie . . . Rich, if you stay here you're gonna be challenged."

Duncan had to think for a moment but the look on Rich's face focused his mind, "Clay."

"He'll be in sight in seconds. Must have been farther away. You probably didn't notice him in particular because of the crowd."

Now, however, they did. Clay's quickening was as strong from a distance as Duncan remembered. Their fight over Rich had been shockingly short and Duncan realized it was only due to the man's grief. According to Joe, he had since returned to the form which had been good enough to kill Graham Ashe.

Clay approached slowly with his body relaxed, signaling no imminent danger. He scanned the group of five before approaching Duncan and bowing. "I intend to challenge your student. Will you interfere?"

"Uh, standing right next to you."

Both men ignored Rich. "Why are you bothering to ask?" Duncan knew it wasn't out of fear of him.

Clay's response was calm, "You spared my life. I am obliged to this and more. I will not fight you unless the Gathering requires us."

Duncan inclined his head for a moment in acknowledgement. Then, "Rich can handle himself."

Clay's expression turned wolf-like. He turned to Rich, "Tonight, then. At Jerusalem's little colisseum."

"Yeah whatever, man." Clay trotted off.

"So there it is, Rich. Take my head or fight Clay without it."

"I'm not a murderer, MacLeod." There was no doubt what he meant.

"You're good Rich, but you can't beat him. He has too much experience."

"I've learned some things."

"Yes, and the unarmed combat Kamir taught you is your best chance. What you need to do . . . "

"I'm not your student anymore, MacLeod."

"Then come practice with us."

"I don't trust you, any of you. Not even Joe."

Dawson stepped forward at this, "That's the steroids talking, Rich."

Ryan reddened and looked for a moment as if he was going to hurt someone. He caught himself, then began to gather his things.

Duncan put his hands loudly down on the little dining table, "Rich, odds are one of us dies tonight. Do you want to spend your last day alone? If not me, at least Joe. I won't believe you meant what you just said."

It was plaintive Duncan MacLeod at his best. Rich couldn't maintain his fury in the face of the emotion pouring out of Duncan. "We stay in public at all times, and Joe is with us."

"We can stay right here all day, if you want." Rich hesitated, then pulled out a chair. Duncan and Joe immediately followed. After a moment, Connor and Methos did as well.

The silence grew uncomfortable. Duncan didn't want to push, and Rich would be damned if he would be the one to start. Connor had been disinterested in conversation for weeks and Methos was, as usual, brooding. Finally, Joe couldn't stand it anymore, "Why, Rich?"

"Why what, Joe?" The tone was snide.

"Why the hunting? You looked for challenges before but you didn't track down easy kills. For that matter, why the one-night stands, why the drugs, why Kamir?"

Duncan gaped first at Joe, then at Rich. The watcher hadn't told him much.

Author's note:

This is my first story here. As you all know the site sends confirmations about uploaded documents. I toss them immediately. Today, I'm about to toss one when I notice it's in fact a (welcome) note from Rivana. If anyone else has sent me something, I threw it away without reading it. Yes, I am a jerk, but an unwitting one. Apologies.