Disclaimer: No harm, no foul - I don't own the characters, I don't make any money out of writing this, it's purely for enjoyment.
This is for those on the Methos/Slash list who were debating Methos' role within the Horsemen. What can I say - I got inspired g. It hasn't been beta'd in the strictest sense of the word, but it has been read by the wonderful Sonia and Anthea (danke, merci, gratzi, spaseba, cheers m'dears g). All mistakes, errors and slaughter of the English language are my fault - but if it doesn't make sense, blame Sonia and Anthea eg
Enlil and the Vow
And I saw, and
behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a
crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering and to
conquer.
Revelation 6:2
For a moment, MacLeod wondered if the skittish, ancient Immortal was going to run from his own apartment. The flight impulse in Methos' bearing was so clear.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Methos finally said, but the words were false and jerky, almost as if it was a conditioned response.
"Methos, please. Ye told me to read that Bible chapter; told me ye were the first Horseman... Ah want to understand this. Please."
"Like I've already told you, it was a vow," Methos snapped, springing away from the bed before MacLeod could stop him.
"Who to? And why? As penance?"
That got a bitter snort of laughter from the eldest Immortal. "Penance? Not hardly."
"Then what?"
This time, the silence between them stretched out infinitely. It grew until it was almost a living, breathing entity, filling the room. It grew to the point that when Methos finally broke it, MacLeod had a difficult job hearing his words for a start.
"I was found...as a baby, in the waste land between Nippur and the Zagros Mountains. The man who found me, a farmer - so I was told - took me to Nippur and presented me to the Priests of Enlil. I grew up in the temple, in service of Enlil. When I came of age, I was supposed to become a full member of the priesthood, and my days were supposed to be lived out in the temple."
"What happened?"
"Enlil. The night before my sixteenth birthday...when I would have come of age... Enlil came to my cell in the temple..."
***The Temple of Enlil, Nippur - c.3000BC***
The noise was so soft that at first the boy did not recognise it as such. But gradually he became aware that it was footsteps, approaching his door. It was late in the night and the priests were not normally abroad. The boy waited silent in the darkness. The steps reached his cell. There was a moment's hesitation, and then the door opened.
"Little one? Are you awake?"
It was an unfamiliar voice, but the boy felt compelled to answer. "I am, sir."
"Good. You must come with me, little one - I have a task for you."
"A...a task?" The boy's voice was hesitant. "I am to become a priest on the morrow..."
"And a fine priest you would have made, but that is not to be your destiny, little one. Now, hush, and dress. You must come with me." Hesitancy and the darkness made the boy's movements slow, but the waiting man was patient. Finally the boy was ready, and in silence, the two left the temple compound.
For more than an hour, they journeyed, leaving Nippur far behind. The boy was deeply curious about this all, but something about his companion brooked no questions. Finally, as the dawn was breaking, the boy and his companion came to a halt. They had made good ground and were all but into the foothills of the mountains.
"Do you recognise this place, little one?" the man asked. The boy shook his head. "This was where you were found as a babe." The boy said nothing, puzzled by this. "Come, boy, you have a tongue - do you have no questions for me?"
The boy turned and looked at the man. "Who are you, sir?"
The man smiled. "I am the one you serve. Enlil, Lord of Earth, Air and Heaven." The boy gasped and dropped to his knees in supplication before the man he served. Enlil gave a soft laugh. "Calm yourself, little one - you need not prostrate yourself before me. I know your heart and mind - you are a loyal servant and I have a task for you."
"A...task?" the boy echoed, not moving from his bowed position.
"Your life stretches out before you, and a long life it will be, for you are of the Gods, little one."
"I...of the Gods?" The boy's puzzlement was clear. "I am just a humble boy. Nothing more."
Enlil laughed softly once more. "You were not borne of mortal flesh, little one. Nor, truly are you one of the Gods - no, you are more Immortal than they."
"How?" The boy's voice creaked with fear at the pronouncement.
"In time, the Gods that you know will die, and new ones shall come. But you shall remain."
"How is it that I remain? How is it that the Gods will die?"
"That, is a question for another time, little one. And in truth, the Gods will not die, they will simply be known by other names, but it will seem to you as such."
The boy shook his head, confused by all this. "I don't understand."
"And nor should you - it is one of the mysteries of the universe, little one. Now, come to me and I will tell you of your task."
Nervously, the boy stood, and walked towards Enlil. "I am yours to command."
"No need to be afraid of me, little one, for I will not harm you. I wish you to carry out a great task for me. One that will be yours and yours alone, from the time you leave me until the time you should die. But before you may take it up, and before I may tell you what this task is, there are a great many things you must learn, little one..."
"He taught me about Immortality. How to use a sword, how to fight...how to survive. Things I needed to know, but didn't realise I needed to know. Living in the temple hadn't prepared me for any kind of life outside the temple...I wasn't supposed to *have* a life outside the temple... But Enlil had decided otherwise..." Methos trailed off.
MacLeod seized on the pause. "You mean to say that Enlil...that you met a God?" The note of his voice was half way between awe and incredulity.
Methos looked across at him. "No... I don't know. He was a powerful man...and a very wise one... I think he was older then, than I am *now*...but..." Methos shrugged helplessly.
"So what happened?"
"He taught me for a year...or maybe two...not sure how long really. On my...seventeenth...eighteenth..." another shrug, "birthday, he told me: The time has come, little one. I knew what that meant. He first gave me my first death." Methos sighed. "When I can round, though..."
"What?" MacLeod asked, even as Methos shuddered.
"It was bad enough being faced by one God...wizard...wise man - whatever you want to call Enlil. When I revived, I was faced by *three* of them. Enlil, Ninhursag and Inanna."
"You'll have to help me here," MacLeod said, as Methos paused, "my knowledge of ancient mythology is...well..." he shrugged.
"Ninhursag was Enlil's wife and...so say the Mother of the Gods. Inanna was the Goddess of love and war. They...with Enlil were three of the four most powerful Gods in the Pantheon."
"What did they want with you?"
Methos gave a wry smile. "Literally, they wanted someone to do their work. What they wanted was someone who could counteract the works of some of the other Gods, Kings and warlords that were around at the time - as a sort of..." Methos shrugged. "Defender of the weak." He grimaced at the description. "It was a daunting prospect...and it wasn't something I wanted by any stretch of the imagination. But having the three of them there and tell me...I couldn't refuse. They made me take a vow... Not an 'I promise' kind of vow - not even the kind of vow you made to Hideo Koto and his family. It was something more physical than that. I can't forget it...or turn away from it. It's *always* there, in the back of my thoughts."
MacLeod stared at his friend, almost as though he was seeing him for the first time. What burdens had he been forced to carry? "And you've had to carry this on...?" MacLeod started.
"It's been my life's work." Methos pulled another grimace. "All 5000 some odd years. Long beyond the death of Enlil's influence in the world... Which was their intention. The only time this will end is if or when someone takes my head." Bleak humour filled Methos' face. "Why do you think I was so keen for you to take it when Kalas killed Don Saltzer?"
It was MacLeod's turn to shudder as he recalled the night, two years earlier, when the oldest Immortal had tried to give him the edge over Kalas. "Do you still wish I had taken it?"
Methos shook his head. "No - not really. I realised I'd found a kindred soul in you...thought I'd found," Methos amended with an easy shrug. "I guess we can't be all that kindred after all."
MacLeod's expression tinged with regret and embarrassment. "I'm sorry I let you down, Methos," he said.
Methos waved it off. "It's happened before - no doubt it will happen again." The studied unconcern in the words was so transparent MacLeod had little difficulty in seeing through it to the very real sense of hurt.
"Where do the Horsemen fit into this?" Methos gave MacLeod a sharp look but said nothing. "You've told me this much and I've not run screaming into the night, or offered another judgement." Still nothing from the oldest. "Methos, how can I understand if you never tell me the truth?"
"Some things, MacLeod," Methos gritted out, "were not *meant* to be understood."
"The Horsemen were Enlil's idea," MacLeod guessed, ignoring the hint, "weren't they?"
"Mac-Leod," Methos growled.
For a long moment there was silence. MacLeod took in the visual clues in Methos' bearing. The ancient Immortal was visibly angry - the tension radiated from him in waves - but it was not just anger that held his body taut. There was fear in good measure too, and there was just a hint of surprise. The Scot judged his guess about the Horsemen's origins was not all that wide of the mark.
"Methos, last night - you were rambling. You were begging someone not to make you do something."
A dull flush of embarrassment and anger seeped across Methos' face at the words. "Well in *that* case, you seem to have it all figured out. Don't trip on your way out."
It was a dismissal, but MacLeod was going nowhere. "No I don't. I..."
"What do you *want* MacLeod?" Methos yelled. "Someone to come along and tell you 'It's OK - it was all a nightmare, Methos didn't really kill all those people'? That isn't going to happen, because I *did*. No matter which way you turn it, who you blame, it was by my hand that those people died. It was by my hand that Cassandra and countless others suffered fates that were considerably worse than death would have been. You can tell yourself that I was coerced into it if that's what it takes to help you sleep at night, but I wasn't. And what possible reason would Enlil have had for *wanting* the Horsemen?"
"If the vow was as you say it was, and I believe you," MacLeod added, "how could you have been a Horseman if Enlil and the others didn't want it?"