Methos tore out of the stable with rapid speed. He didn't wait for
Liam to saddle the horse, though the boy had run out of the gate
house to do so. He couldn't be bothered. He had to get away,
get far away from Byrony... from Meaghan.
Methos tightened the straps upon Fury, flying
past Liam who held a lantern at the side of the roadway. The
immortal continued on down the lane, the gravel spraying beneath
the hooves. The horse and rider casting a shadow in the pale moonlight.
What did she know of him? And yet she claimed to love him, it was a
joke. Only it seemed the joke was on him, because he half believed
her.
Methos pushed his horse hard, breaking free of Byrony's grounds
and galloping through the darkened forest. He would go into town
and numb his thoughts at the village tavern and maybe even find
himself a 'lady'.
That was what it was. He hadn't had the company of a woman in
quite a while. Meaghan had been the only female he had spent
any considerable time with. Well, her and Catherine, but he could
hardly... Well, he wouldn't end that thought, instead he pressed onward,
willing the beast to run faster and place further distance between
him and Meaghan.
Methos made the long ride to the village within half the time.
When he arrived the full moon was threading its reach
through the barren trees, casting spider web shadows upon the
ground.
Methos left his exhausted stallion with a village boy, paying him the
required coin to take care of the beast. He couldn't waste one more
second on sobriety. He entered the dulled, quiet tavern and fell into
the corner table, waiting for the local barmaid to bring him the draft
he'd shouted for when he'd entered.
The immortal could feel the villagers' eyes upon him but he didn't
care. He knew that his presence was a certain type of oddity to
them, for he hardly ever came down here since Meaghan's arrival... hell,
even before that. On the rare occasion that he did, never
did such a foul, black mood surround him. Yes, he knew the picture
he presented to these people and he didn't care.
It was time for a beer. Methos sprawled out in a chair and stared
into the crackling fire across the room. He was tired of feeling,
thinking... he was just tired.
-----------------------------------------------------------
**************************
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Present
Byrony's House Garden
The Next Afternoon
***************************
Meaghan sat in the garden, kneeling at the foot of
a rose bed. She reached her gloved hand into the
soil, pulling up the trespassing roots and tossing
them into a pile beside her.
She wouldn't think about it anymore...
'God, I could be usin' some Guinness right 'bout
now,' Meaghan thought as she tried to sniff away an
itch. She wiped the gloves off on her gardening
smock then swiped at her face, trying to relieve the itch.
"Damn these gloves," Meaghan cried, frustrated, as
she pulled them off to get at the sensation.
"Ah yeah, fantastic!" Meaghan sighed as she rubbed
at her face before turning back to her work. She
reached down into the bed again and quickly
withdrew her hand. Holding it up, she saw a
thorn protruding from her fingertip. She pulled the
object out and shook her hand to get rid of the
pain.
"Och," Meaghan muttered. She saw a drop of blood
pool, but the prick was gone as a crackle of white
Quickening sealed the wound. Meaghan was getting
used to it by now. Her spars with Evan were
always intense.
Evan! Meaghan, wondered where he went.
She stabbed at the dirt, piercing it with her
shovel. "Forget 'im, then."
Meaghan dropped her head to her chest. She couldn't
believe he didn't come back last night.
What she really couldn't believe was that he didn't believe
she loved him. God, every waking moment she seemed
to think on him.
Meaghan growled in frustration, tossing the shovel
down and getting to her feet. She straightened her
dress out as she began to pace That man could be so
infuriating, positively infuriating! His staying away
just made her angry confusion grow. She had no idea
where he went or how long he would be.
She froze her movements as she remembered the last
few moments before he left. She'd leaned up to kiss
his lips, but then she also remembered him pulling
away from her at the very last - the very last - moment
before their lips met.
Meaghan paused, giving a growl before she picked up
the pace again.
She loved Byrony... loved the estate and her time
with Evan. She cherished that time together...when
he would read to her, and she to him. When they
drank together and not to mention his apparent
amazement that she could drink just as much as he.
When they sparred and he pushed her harder and made
her better.. he was tender then, tender and
guiding... never cruel.
Something happened to make him run from her and her
words. Was it life itself? She hoped not, for what
did that say about her future? He was hurt. He
needed to be alone, this she believed. She only
hoped that he realized the truth of her feelings.
'Immortality was just too hard to fathom or believe
until you are confronted with it in the form of
healing wounds or the presence of Evan,' she
thought... remembering the Quickening sensation
that crawled over her skin to settle between her
temples every time he was near., "That nigh drives
me insane."
Meaghan's head shot up as the fore-mentioned
sensation tingled around her skin.
"Evan, " she called out. Meaghan walked beyond the
greenery, catching her skirt in her hands. She cut
around the English maze to greet him.
"Evan." She called, turning around to greet him.
She saw the back of a man that most definitely was
not Evan.
Meaghan froze. Evan's voice rang out clear in her
mind, stating the rules of the game. The most
important rule to her now rung the loudest.
"You are safe on holy ground, no one can fight
there."
Meaghan's spine straightened, secure that she would
not have to prove herself and die. One thing Evan taught
her was that she was far from as good as she'd thought she
was. For once she was glad that the English had taken over
and converted this Irish Abby.
"What do yea want?" she asked poised with her hands
behind her back.
The man turned slowly around. She noted from his
garb that he did not appear to be from the area and
her suspicions were correct when she heard him
speak.. his voice definitely not Irish... possibly
English.
"What do I want," the man asked in low mocking
tones. He walked up to her. Meaghan made to back
away but his hand snaked out and clasped her
forearm.
"What if I were to say you?" he asked, his breath
fanning her face.
"I'd be sayin' yea'd surely be disappointed," she
scathed, her temper rising at being handled. She
swore she would never let that happen again, 'Not
ever,' she thought remembering the workhouses.
"Ah, quite a bit of fire in you, Methos always did
like that in his women," remarked the man, "Oh, I
am sorry, I mean, what was it you called him?
Evan?"
The man laughed, a low rumble in his throat.
"Yea can't be doin' nothin' here, tis 'oly ground,"
Meaghan informed, her struggles having ceased.
"Yes, you are right," agreed the man, stepping closer to
her, his lips mere inches from her own, his eyes penetrating
her. "What is to stop me from pulling you off holy ground... hmm?
It's only a few metres away, isn't it? I could have your worthless
little head as I wait for your lord and master."
"He be no master to me," Meaghan snarled," Yea asked me
what 'twas ta stop yea from pullin' me off holy ground, well, I'll
tell yea."
The man cocked an eyebrow.
With her free arm, Meaghan reached behind her, into the folds
of her skirt, pulling out her concealed sword and letting it
hang behind her back. She smiled sweetly at the man,
stepping closer.
The man's eyes narrowed, suspicion darkening his face.
Meaghan widened the smile as, quick and sure, she buried the
sword into the immortal's stomach. The man did not let her go
as he grunted in pain. If anything his grip on her increased as he
dislodged the weapon from his gut.
He breathed heavy, holding the bloodied blade in his fist. His
eyes bathed her in unconcealed hatred.
"I see he is already trying to teach you his tricks," the man
sneered, dropping the sword a few feet away." But it won't work,
I know them all already."
Meaghan let out a whimper as she felt the bones in her upper
arm start to crack within his grasp. He pushed her away
from his body, yet kept his fingers firmly wrapped around her
arm. Meaghan began to feel pain radiate from where he held her
in his calloused grip. He withdrew a dagger from his belt and
held it up to inspect it, He looked from the dagger to her and
back to the dagger again. Finally he spoke.
"You know, It was a pleasure sharing this time with you, but I do
think that I am done here, " said the man.
"Tell Methos, I mean "Evan" this message." He grabbed her face
with his hands, the dagger tangled within his fingers and
pressing against the side of her face. He pulled her head
to his lips, his words whispered into her ear. He pullled back,
then paused looking her over. Meaghan stared at his
scarred face. "My, but you are a beautiful one."
He looked to the dagger again. "But, I guess you won't be able
to tell him, will you." He raised the dagger to her throat.
Meaghan thoughts were frantic,yet she was paralyzed by
fear. Her mouth opened and closed, no words issuing
forth. Her body trembled as her mind screamed that he
couldn't, that she was safe... It was holy ground, finally
the words shouted out of her.
"The rules!! You can't!!! 'Tis holy ground," she cried,
her face composed of sheer terror.
"Meaghan! Meaghan!!! Yea get away from her! Yea get away
from her right now!!" Catherine yelled as she came charging
toward them.
"Catherine, get out of here. Don't..." Meaghan screamed. She
quickly turned, looking to the immortal. He no longer held the
knife to her throat but his grip on her was fierce.
"CATHERINEEEEEE!!!!!" Meaghan screamed as she saw
him raise the dagger back and aim it at the woman. Please
God, don't take her away, one family was enough, one family
was ENOUGH! Meaghan snapped out of her thoughts and
screamed again, reaching for the man's raised
arm. "NOoooooooOOO!!!!"
Meaghan struggled to stop him... she could see his intent. He
turned back toward Meaghan. "No, yea can't kill her, she
not be one of us... this has nothing to do with her." Meaghan
cried.
The immortal pushed her down to the ground, the lawn
pressed against her cheek. He bent close to her ear." You are
right young one, she's not one of us, the rules do not apply to
her...Gods but that's invigorating! Don't you think?" And with
that, knocked her head, using the end of her dagger handle. Meaghan
fell into darkness, her last thought was screaming
out Catherine's name.
-----------------------------------------------
****************
Clonakilty, Ireland
Later that day
Byrony Estate
****************
"Ohhhh, Nooo, oh no" Meaghan cried. She was a crumbled
heap sitting on the ground, cradling Catherine to her
chest."Ohh no, nooo" was her constant chant, as she rocked to
and fro. Meaghan stared into Catherine's smooth, too peaceful
features. She grabbed the silenced woman tighter to her,
rocking harder.
Meaghan sat in the garden, oblivious of time as it swept past
her. All she thought was that she'd lost another one.
"MEAGHAN!" She heard the call before she sensed him. She
tried to answer but a whispery croak was all that came out of
her tear - choked throat.
"MEAGHAN!!!" Evan cried out for her again, finally he stood
before her rocking figure. She heard his footsteps slow on the
grass. She didn't look up, she couldn't take her eyes off of
Catherine.
"Evan," She whispered as she continued to rock her. "I... "
"Gods!" Evan fell to his knees before her, he reached out and
grabbed the hand that clasped Catherine's.
"Shhh," he whispered as he extricated her fingers from
Catherine's, "You have to let her go. Come, give her to me."
Meaghan paid little notice to the blood that drenched her
chest and lap as she held Catherine's body... but when she
looked up, she did note that Evan's clothes were covered in
blood.
"Did yea kill him?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she
stared at Evan's bloodied wardrobe.
"Him?" He questioned, looking at her.
"Yea clothes," she replied. She watched as Evan looked
down at his attire.
"No... I... I found Liam... at the stable. He's dead." Evan answered.
"What!" was Meaghan's strangled cry, "No, not Liam!"
Evan gave a shake to his head, confirming what he'd said. She
shuddered to ask, but was unable not to. "Thomas?"
"I found him at the front door.. He.." Evan paused. Meaghan
could see him swallowing, and then taking a deep breath. She
heard a hard finality inflect his voice. "They are all dead."
"Dead?" Meaghan whispered, clutching Catherine's still hand
again. She looked down upon the woman who had swiftly
became a surrogate mother, friend, confidant. Then there was
Liam and Thomas, parts of her new family... all gone.
Gone.
Was life always so fleeting, so short, so... devastating?
"Meaghan," Evan intruded upon her thoughts," You have to let
her go." Meaghan still held Catherine, staring beyond Evan,
seeing nothing in particular. Finally, her eyes focused and she
looked upon him. Abruptly she said, "He had a message for
you."
"He? The man who did this?" Evan asked kneeling before her.
"He said, 'I just missed him in London, but do tell
Methos, Kronos says, 'Greetings brother.' "
She watched him as she spoke. Evan froze, immobile. She saw
his skin blanche, turning an unnatural shade of white. He finally
closed his eyes and shook his head. She could swear she saw
him shudder. She waited for him to speak, but he remained
silent.
"Evan?" Meaghan asked, watching him. Finally he looked up
and she saw for the first time since knowing Evan, for the first, a
real fear mark his features. It near rippled off of him.
"So, he's the one that's been tracking me," Evan said in a whisper.
He shook his head. Starting to reach a shaking hand out to her, Evan
quickly withdrew it.
Meaghan turned her attention back to Catherine. She reached
a hand over her face, sliding it down from her forehead, across
her eyes, down her nose and over her lips. It was an action
that she had done many times with her own family. It was the
Kineally way of saying good-bye.
"I hold yea face in me hand and in me heart," Meaghan whispered.
Suddenly, she caught her breath, then slowly
released it. It felt like a dam breaking within her. It was
all too much, everything was too much. She couldn't,
wouldn't, handle it... not anymore.
******************************************************************
FLASHBACK
EARLY AUGUST:1846
"Yea always have been the strong one. I suppose I knew
yea would be...me Meaghan, me mighty one." Mary Kineally
whispered.
******************************************************************
Her mother's words filled her ears, echoing through the
cavern of memories.
"I can't be mighty Ma, not anymore... not anymore." Meaghan
said, her voice flat and hoarse, barely above a whisper. Her
vision tunneled, tears slid down her cheeks, "'Tis too
much, too much..."
"Meaghan?" Evan called, trying to break through her ramblings.
Meaghan sat upon the ground. She saw nothing as the world
faded around her. She huddled herself into an area in her
mind where pain and devastation could never touch her, never.
"Too much...too much..."
Liam to saddle the horse, though the boy had run out of the gate
house to do so. He couldn't be bothered. He had to get away,
get far away from Byrony... from Meaghan.
Methos tightened the straps upon Fury, flying
past Liam who held a lantern at the side of the roadway. The
immortal continued on down the lane, the gravel spraying beneath
the hooves. The horse and rider casting a shadow in the pale moonlight.
What did she know of him? And yet she claimed to love him, it was a
joke. Only it seemed the joke was on him, because he half believed
her.
Methos pushed his horse hard, breaking free of Byrony's grounds
and galloping through the darkened forest. He would go into town
and numb his thoughts at the village tavern and maybe even find
himself a 'lady'.
That was what it was. He hadn't had the company of a woman in
quite a while. Meaghan had been the only female he had spent
any considerable time with. Well, her and Catherine, but he could
hardly... Well, he wouldn't end that thought, instead he pressed onward,
willing the beast to run faster and place further distance between
him and Meaghan.
Methos made the long ride to the village within half the time.
When he arrived the full moon was threading its reach
through the barren trees, casting spider web shadows upon the
ground.
Methos left his exhausted stallion with a village boy, paying him the
required coin to take care of the beast. He couldn't waste one more
second on sobriety. He entered the dulled, quiet tavern and fell into
the corner table, waiting for the local barmaid to bring him the draft
he'd shouted for when he'd entered.
The immortal could feel the villagers' eyes upon him but he didn't
care. He knew that his presence was a certain type of oddity to
them, for he hardly ever came down here since Meaghan's arrival... hell,
even before that. On the rare occasion that he did, never
did such a foul, black mood surround him. Yes, he knew the picture
he presented to these people and he didn't care.
It was time for a beer. Methos sprawled out in a chair and stared
into the crackling fire across the room. He was tired of feeling,
thinking... he was just tired.
-----------------------------------------------------------
**************************
CO. CORK, IRELAND
CLONAKILTY
BYRONY ESTATE
1847: Present
Byrony's House Garden
The Next Afternoon
***************************
Meaghan sat in the garden, kneeling at the foot of
a rose bed. She reached her gloved hand into the
soil, pulling up the trespassing roots and tossing
them into a pile beside her.
She wouldn't think about it anymore...
'God, I could be usin' some Guinness right 'bout
now,' Meaghan thought as she tried to sniff away an
itch. She wiped the gloves off on her gardening
smock then swiped at her face, trying to relieve the itch.
"Damn these gloves," Meaghan cried, frustrated, as
she pulled them off to get at the sensation.
"Ah yeah, fantastic!" Meaghan sighed as she rubbed
at her face before turning back to her work. She
reached down into the bed again and quickly
withdrew her hand. Holding it up, she saw a
thorn protruding from her fingertip. She pulled the
object out and shook her hand to get rid of the
pain.
"Och," Meaghan muttered. She saw a drop of blood
pool, but the prick was gone as a crackle of white
Quickening sealed the wound. Meaghan was getting
used to it by now. Her spars with Evan were
always intense.
Evan! Meaghan, wondered where he went.
She stabbed at the dirt, piercing it with her
shovel. "Forget 'im, then."
Meaghan dropped her head to her chest. She couldn't
believe he didn't come back last night.
What she really couldn't believe was that he didn't believe
she loved him. God, every waking moment she seemed
to think on him.
Meaghan growled in frustration, tossing the shovel
down and getting to her feet. She straightened her
dress out as she began to pace That man could be so
infuriating, positively infuriating! His staying away
just made her angry confusion grow. She had no idea
where he went or how long he would be.
She froze her movements as she remembered the last
few moments before he left. She'd leaned up to kiss
his lips, but then she also remembered him pulling
away from her at the very last - the very last - moment
before their lips met.
Meaghan paused, giving a growl before she picked up
the pace again.
She loved Byrony... loved the estate and her time
with Evan. She cherished that time together...when
he would read to her, and she to him. When they
drank together and not to mention his apparent
amazement that she could drink just as much as he.
When they sparred and he pushed her harder and made
her better.. he was tender then, tender and
guiding... never cruel.
Something happened to make him run from her and her
words. Was it life itself? She hoped not, for what
did that say about her future? He was hurt. He
needed to be alone, this she believed. She only
hoped that he realized the truth of her feelings.
'Immortality was just too hard to fathom or believe
until you are confronted with it in the form of
healing wounds or the presence of Evan,' she
thought... remembering the Quickening sensation
that crawled over her skin to settle between her
temples every time he was near., "That nigh drives
me insane."
Meaghan's head shot up as the fore-mentioned
sensation tingled around her skin.
"Evan, " she called out. Meaghan walked beyond the
greenery, catching her skirt in her hands. She cut
around the English maze to greet him.
"Evan." She called, turning around to greet him.
She saw the back of a man that most definitely was
not Evan.
Meaghan froze. Evan's voice rang out clear in her
mind, stating the rules of the game. The most
important rule to her now rung the loudest.
"You are safe on holy ground, no one can fight
there."
Meaghan's spine straightened, secure that she would
not have to prove herself and die. One thing Evan taught
her was that she was far from as good as she'd thought she
was. For once she was glad that the English had taken over
and converted this Irish Abby.
"What do yea want?" she asked poised with her hands
behind her back.
The man turned slowly around. She noted from his
garb that he did not appear to be from the area and
her suspicions were correct when she heard him
speak.. his voice definitely not Irish... possibly
English.
"What do I want," the man asked in low mocking
tones. He walked up to her. Meaghan made to back
away but his hand snaked out and clasped her
forearm.
"What if I were to say you?" he asked, his breath
fanning her face.
"I'd be sayin' yea'd surely be disappointed," she
scathed, her temper rising at being handled. She
swore she would never let that happen again, 'Not
ever,' she thought remembering the workhouses.
"Ah, quite a bit of fire in you, Methos always did
like that in his women," remarked the man, "Oh, I
am sorry, I mean, what was it you called him?
Evan?"
The man laughed, a low rumble in his throat.
"Yea can't be doin' nothin' here, tis 'oly ground,"
Meaghan informed, her struggles having ceased.
"Yes, you are right," agreed the man, stepping closer to
her, his lips mere inches from her own, his eyes penetrating
her. "What is to stop me from pulling you off holy ground... hmm?
It's only a few metres away, isn't it? I could have your worthless
little head as I wait for your lord and master."
"He be no master to me," Meaghan snarled," Yea asked me
what 'twas ta stop yea from pullin' me off holy ground, well, I'll
tell yea."
The man cocked an eyebrow.
With her free arm, Meaghan reached behind her, into the folds
of her skirt, pulling out her concealed sword and letting it
hang behind her back. She smiled sweetly at the man,
stepping closer.
The man's eyes narrowed, suspicion darkening his face.
Meaghan widened the smile as, quick and sure, she buried the
sword into the immortal's stomach. The man did not let her go
as he grunted in pain. If anything his grip on her increased as he
dislodged the weapon from his gut.
He breathed heavy, holding the bloodied blade in his fist. His
eyes bathed her in unconcealed hatred.
"I see he is already trying to teach you his tricks," the man
sneered, dropping the sword a few feet away." But it won't work,
I know them all already."
Meaghan let out a whimper as she felt the bones in her upper
arm start to crack within his grasp. He pushed her away
from his body, yet kept his fingers firmly wrapped around her
arm. Meaghan began to feel pain radiate from where he held her
in his calloused grip. He withdrew a dagger from his belt and
held it up to inspect it, He looked from the dagger to her and
back to the dagger again. Finally he spoke.
"You know, It was a pleasure sharing this time with you, but I do
think that I am done here, " said the man.
"Tell Methos, I mean "Evan" this message." He grabbed her face
with his hands, the dagger tangled within his fingers and
pressing against the side of her face. He pulled her head
to his lips, his words whispered into her ear. He pullled back,
then paused looking her over. Meaghan stared at his
scarred face. "My, but you are a beautiful one."
He looked to the dagger again. "But, I guess you won't be able
to tell him, will you." He raised the dagger to her throat.
Meaghan thoughts were frantic,yet she was paralyzed by
fear. Her mouth opened and closed, no words issuing
forth. Her body trembled as her mind screamed that he
couldn't, that she was safe... It was holy ground, finally
the words shouted out of her.
"The rules!! You can't!!! 'Tis holy ground," she cried,
her face composed of sheer terror.
"Meaghan! Meaghan!!! Yea get away from her! Yea get away
from her right now!!" Catherine yelled as she came charging
toward them.
"Catherine, get out of here. Don't..." Meaghan screamed. She
quickly turned, looking to the immortal. He no longer held the
knife to her throat but his grip on her was fierce.
"CATHERINEEEEEE!!!!!" Meaghan screamed as she saw
him raise the dagger back and aim it at the woman. Please
God, don't take her away, one family was enough, one family
was ENOUGH! Meaghan snapped out of her thoughts and
screamed again, reaching for the man's raised
arm. "NOoooooooOOO!!!!"
Meaghan struggled to stop him... she could see his intent. He
turned back toward Meaghan. "No, yea can't kill her, she
not be one of us... this has nothing to do with her." Meaghan
cried.
The immortal pushed her down to the ground, the lawn
pressed against her cheek. He bent close to her ear." You are
right young one, she's not one of us, the rules do not apply to
her...Gods but that's invigorating! Don't you think?" And with
that, knocked her head, using the end of her dagger handle. Meaghan
fell into darkness, her last thought was screaming
out Catherine's name.
-----------------------------------------------
****************
Clonakilty, Ireland
Later that day
Byrony Estate
****************
"Ohhhh, Nooo, oh no" Meaghan cried. She was a crumbled
heap sitting on the ground, cradling Catherine to her
chest."Ohh no, nooo" was her constant chant, as she rocked to
and fro. Meaghan stared into Catherine's smooth, too peaceful
features. She grabbed the silenced woman tighter to her,
rocking harder.
Meaghan sat in the garden, oblivious of time as it swept past
her. All she thought was that she'd lost another one.
"MEAGHAN!" She heard the call before she sensed him. She
tried to answer but a whispery croak was all that came out of
her tear - choked throat.
"MEAGHAN!!!" Evan cried out for her again, finally he stood
before her rocking figure. She heard his footsteps slow on the
grass. She didn't look up, she couldn't take her eyes off of
Catherine.
"Evan," She whispered as she continued to rock her. "I... "
"Gods!" Evan fell to his knees before her, he reached out and
grabbed the hand that clasped Catherine's.
"Shhh," he whispered as he extricated her fingers from
Catherine's, "You have to let her go. Come, give her to me."
Meaghan paid little notice to the blood that drenched her
chest and lap as she held Catherine's body... but when she
looked up, she did note that Evan's clothes were covered in
blood.
"Did yea kill him?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she
stared at Evan's bloodied wardrobe.
"Him?" He questioned, looking at her.
"Yea clothes," she replied. She watched as Evan looked
down at his attire.
"No... I... I found Liam... at the stable. He's dead." Evan answered.
"What!" was Meaghan's strangled cry, "No, not Liam!"
Evan gave a shake to his head, confirming what he'd said. She
shuddered to ask, but was unable not to. "Thomas?"
"I found him at the front door.. He.." Evan paused. Meaghan
could see him swallowing, and then taking a deep breath. She
heard a hard finality inflect his voice. "They are all dead."
"Dead?" Meaghan whispered, clutching Catherine's still hand
again. She looked down upon the woman who had swiftly
became a surrogate mother, friend, confidant. Then there was
Liam and Thomas, parts of her new family... all gone.
Gone.
Was life always so fleeting, so short, so... devastating?
"Meaghan," Evan intruded upon her thoughts," You have to let
her go." Meaghan still held Catherine, staring beyond Evan,
seeing nothing in particular. Finally, her eyes focused and she
looked upon him. Abruptly she said, "He had a message for
you."
"He? The man who did this?" Evan asked kneeling before her.
"He said, 'I just missed him in London, but do tell
Methos, Kronos says, 'Greetings brother.' "
She watched him as she spoke. Evan froze, immobile. She saw
his skin blanche, turning an unnatural shade of white. He finally
closed his eyes and shook his head. She could swear she saw
him shudder. She waited for him to speak, but he remained
silent.
"Evan?" Meaghan asked, watching him. Finally he looked up
and she saw for the first time since knowing Evan, for the first, a
real fear mark his features. It near rippled off of him.
"So, he's the one that's been tracking me," Evan said in a whisper.
He shook his head. Starting to reach a shaking hand out to her, Evan
quickly withdrew it.
Meaghan turned her attention back to Catherine. She reached
a hand over her face, sliding it down from her forehead, across
her eyes, down her nose and over her lips. It was an action
that she had done many times with her own family. It was the
Kineally way of saying good-bye.
"I hold yea face in me hand and in me heart," Meaghan whispered.
Suddenly, she caught her breath, then slowly
released it. It felt like a dam breaking within her. It was
all too much, everything was too much. She couldn't,
wouldn't, handle it... not anymore.
******************************************************************
FLASHBACK
EARLY AUGUST:1846
"Yea always have been the strong one. I suppose I knew
yea would be...me Meaghan, me mighty one." Mary Kineally
whispered.
******************************************************************
Her mother's words filled her ears, echoing through the
cavern of memories.
"I can't be mighty Ma, not anymore... not anymore." Meaghan
said, her voice flat and hoarse, barely above a whisper. Her
vision tunneled, tears slid down her cheeks, "'Tis too
much, too much..."
"Meaghan?" Evan called, trying to break through her ramblings.
Meaghan sat upon the ground. She saw nothing as the world
faded around her. She huddled herself into an area in her
mind where pain and devastation could never touch her, never.
"Too much...too much..."