Chapter 4
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The battle for the soul of Brian the Irish raged ever on. In the times where he had a moment of clarity, Brian wished he could un-take a head. The redheaded girl with the black eyes had a quickening unlike any he had ever absorbed. The blackness of it was all consuming, but the after effect was the most confusing. He had heard of a dark quickening, but to his recollection, it didn't act like any he had heard of.
Brian felt more like he was schizophrenic than anything else. Sometimes he would be Brian Boru of Eire, an ancient warrior of legend. Then after that Brian would be trapped inside his own body with another consciousness in control. Still at other times he would be Brian and he would not be able to rid himself of the redheaded girl from the clearing in the forest. She would stalk him and mutter curses at him until he thought he would go mad. She would be where there had been nothing moments before. She plagued his thoughts and sleep came as no refuge.
~~~~~~~~
"Richie, would you care to spar?" asked Duncan.
"Sure thing, Mac. Let me go change clothes and I'll be right back" replied Richie.
Duncan began to stretch and loosen up his muscles. He started off with a few simple stretches and moved fluently into a simple kata to warm up. As he was finishing, the door to the shop rang and Dawn came in followed closely by Buffy and Xander.
"Hey Duncan," cried Dawn cheerily. She noticed his clothing and groaned. "Who's blood do I get to clean up today?" she asked.
Duncan grinned at her and said, "Probably Richie's, but there's always room to be surprised."
Richie walked back into the room clothed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Upon seeing Buffy, he smiled and walked over to her for a hug and a kiss, which Buffy readily supplied. Dawn groaned and with his mission accomplished, Richie walked over to Duncan and sat down to stretch.
"So, any news on the Willow clone yet?" asked Buffy. "It's been too quiet around here lately" she quipped.
"No, no news just yet, but I'm sure something will turn up sooner or later," replied Giles from his seat at the table behind a pile of books.
Across the room Richie and Duncan began circling each other warily. Richie held in his right hand the rapier that Duncan had from Graham Ashe and in the left hand a foot long dagger. Duncan was gripping his katana in a traditional Japanese stance.
"Two handed, when did you learn that?" asked Duncan.
"Last year. I took lessons from a wandering fencing master from Italy in exchange for food and shelter," answered Richie.
"Well, let's see how well you learned," replied MacLeod who promptly feinted for Richie's head.
Richie responded in kind with a feint of his own towards MacLeod's stomach. MacLeod pulled back his feint and attacked. The two fighters moved around each other in a deadly dance of blades and martial arts. In the time Richie and Duncan had been apart, Richie had learned well. The complexity of the dagger and rapier was well matched by the skill and flexibility of MacLeod and his katana. Richie scored first blood with a nick to MacLeod's forearm with the dagger. Richie whooped in exultation as he moved in for the mock kill. Too late, he realized that the pain on MacLeod's face was a ruse and Richie ended up flat on his back with the katana at his throat.
"Well done Richie. Another decade or so of learning new fighting styles and you'll be a contender for the prize," praised MacLeod.
"Thanks Mac. You really got me with that little pain in the arm thing," retorted Richie sarcastically.
Dawn walked over to examine the bloodless mat and said, "Come on Richie, he's got four centuries on you, get over it already and let's get some food." Richie looked over at her and grinned.
"Sure thing, just let me get changed real quick and I'll be right with you."
~~~~~~~~
Methos strolled down the little street following the warmth of the sun. A cool breeze blew and he shivered with delight at the small things in life.
Beautiful day he thought to himself. He then swore as he felt the presence of another Immortal grow stronger. He scanned the area around him carefully as he reached inside his coat for his Ivanhoe. He found the source of the buzz and stared for a second. Brian?, he thought.
Warily, Methos walked to where Brian stood with a ramrod-straight back and cold blue eyes.
"Brian, how are you?" Methos asked.
"Greetings Flaithbheartach," responded Brian with a nod.
"Actually it is Adam now," responded Methos. "It fits me better than that name. What are you doing here? I have heard things about you."
"I was seeking you actually. I need your help," replied Brian.
"If you will recall Brian, my debt has been repaid," Methos said warily.
"So it has, but if you will recall, I owe you," replied Brian who quickly glanced around him as if he expected to be overheard.
~~~~~~~~
1014 AD- Ireland, Battle of Clontarf
Brian Boru, High King of Ireland stood on the hill overlooking the field of battle. His enemy, Sitric of the Dublin Norse stood opposite the field on another hill looking at him.
"Flaithbheartach, this had better work," Brian said to his chief counselor.
The dark haired man looked at the Irish warriors and their positions on the field. He nodded in satisfaction at his trap for the Danes and yawned.
"It will, and my debt will be repaid in full," replied the four thousand year old man named Methos.
~~~~~~~~
1011 AD- Ireland, outside Dublin
Methos had been careless. Out riding one day to meet his lover, he was ambushed by a group of Sea Wolves. These Danes were but a small group however still too many for Methos to handle alone. He did not want to die and be looted for he did not know what they would do to his body. Being dead couldn't guarantee that your head would stay attached to your neck.
At the moment of attack, Methos dodged the first swipe of the axe and gutted the first man. The second threw an axe at him and it lodged in his side. The blood streaked Dane howled in delight and pulled the blade from Methos as he struggled to get up. Licking the blade clean the Norseman lifted the axe and fell forward dead. The others looked up startled only to have one head removed and another his arm detached. The remaining three ran for their lives, taking what they could from Methos' horse as they ran.
"You do not look so good, friend," said Brian as he tended to Methos' wound.
"Leave it," Methos said angrily. "I will be fine in a moment."
"I know wounds, and this one is not good. Allow me to treat it for pain" retorted Brian.
At that moment, Methos chose to die. Brian sighed and started to drag Methos' body to a rut at the side of the trail so he could cave some dirt over the body. Having moved the body, Brian went back for the weapons and turned around then froze. The dead man was getting up.
Crossing himself, Brian backed away slowly.
"Stay," commanded a calm Methos. "I know who you are, and I would be your friend."
"What are you," demanded a very scared Brian, though he would never have admitted it.
"A friend if you'd let me be. All else does not matter. I can help you with your problem as you so recently helped me," said Methos.
"What problem?" asked Brian, now confused more than anything.
"The Danes," replied Methos.
~~~~~~~~
1014- Aftermath of the battle
Sitric was nowhere to be found. His army was decimated but the leader of the Danes had disappeared. Brian had retired to his tent and had unbuckled his sword and leather armor. Brian then saw him. Sitric had been waiting in the shadows for this very moment. Sitric charged Brian and toppled him to the ground. Brian reeled from the impact to his head from a rock and his defenses fell. Sitric took the opportunity availed him and plunged the dagger into Brian's still beating heart. He spat on his face and got up to leave when someone entered the tent.
Methos looked up and understood instantly, drawing his sword, he quickly beheaded Sitric and then cleaned the blade off on his beard. He then pulled the dagger out of Brian and waited for the new Immortal to awaken.
~~~~~~~~
The present, AD
"You took me to the best teacher, Adam. Ceirdwyn taught me what I needed and we loved each other for two centuries. I owe you much thanks and many things." Brian paused and looked at Methos with pained eyes. "I have a problem that I can't handle. Whatever it will take to repay you, I would gladly owe you doubly now. My word is my bond and I am honor bound as a king to repay you" finished Brian.
"What is it?" Methos asked in resignation.
"It seems that I am not myself," replied Brian.
Methos quirked an eyebrow.
--End Chapter
~~~~~~~~
Hope you guys liked this one. I did some research and mixed a little history with fiction.
Here are my sources:
On Brian Boru: http://www.encyclopedia.com/html/B/BrianB1or.asp
On the Irish name I gave Methos: FLAITHBHEARTACH [flahertagh] is derived from flaith, a chief, and bearthatch, cunning; and means "a clever or cunning chief."
http://ahd.exis.net/monaghan/irish-names-naming.htm
Please review!!!!
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
The battle for the soul of Brian the Irish raged ever on. In the times where he had a moment of clarity, Brian wished he could un-take a head. The redheaded girl with the black eyes had a quickening unlike any he had ever absorbed. The blackness of it was all consuming, but the after effect was the most confusing. He had heard of a dark quickening, but to his recollection, it didn't act like any he had heard of.
Brian felt more like he was schizophrenic than anything else. Sometimes he would be Brian Boru of Eire, an ancient warrior of legend. Then after that Brian would be trapped inside his own body with another consciousness in control. Still at other times he would be Brian and he would not be able to rid himself of the redheaded girl from the clearing in the forest. She would stalk him and mutter curses at him until he thought he would go mad. She would be where there had been nothing moments before. She plagued his thoughts and sleep came as no refuge.
~~~~~~~~
"Richie, would you care to spar?" asked Duncan.
"Sure thing, Mac. Let me go change clothes and I'll be right back" replied Richie.
Duncan began to stretch and loosen up his muscles. He started off with a few simple stretches and moved fluently into a simple kata to warm up. As he was finishing, the door to the shop rang and Dawn came in followed closely by Buffy and Xander.
"Hey Duncan," cried Dawn cheerily. She noticed his clothing and groaned. "Who's blood do I get to clean up today?" she asked.
Duncan grinned at her and said, "Probably Richie's, but there's always room to be surprised."
Richie walked back into the room clothed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Upon seeing Buffy, he smiled and walked over to her for a hug and a kiss, which Buffy readily supplied. Dawn groaned and with his mission accomplished, Richie walked over to Duncan and sat down to stretch.
"So, any news on the Willow clone yet?" asked Buffy. "It's been too quiet around here lately" she quipped.
"No, no news just yet, but I'm sure something will turn up sooner or later," replied Giles from his seat at the table behind a pile of books.
Across the room Richie and Duncan began circling each other warily. Richie held in his right hand the rapier that Duncan had from Graham Ashe and in the left hand a foot long dagger. Duncan was gripping his katana in a traditional Japanese stance.
"Two handed, when did you learn that?" asked Duncan.
"Last year. I took lessons from a wandering fencing master from Italy in exchange for food and shelter," answered Richie.
"Well, let's see how well you learned," replied MacLeod who promptly feinted for Richie's head.
Richie responded in kind with a feint of his own towards MacLeod's stomach. MacLeod pulled back his feint and attacked. The two fighters moved around each other in a deadly dance of blades and martial arts. In the time Richie and Duncan had been apart, Richie had learned well. The complexity of the dagger and rapier was well matched by the skill and flexibility of MacLeod and his katana. Richie scored first blood with a nick to MacLeod's forearm with the dagger. Richie whooped in exultation as he moved in for the mock kill. Too late, he realized that the pain on MacLeod's face was a ruse and Richie ended up flat on his back with the katana at his throat.
"Well done Richie. Another decade or so of learning new fighting styles and you'll be a contender for the prize," praised MacLeod.
"Thanks Mac. You really got me with that little pain in the arm thing," retorted Richie sarcastically.
Dawn walked over to examine the bloodless mat and said, "Come on Richie, he's got four centuries on you, get over it already and let's get some food." Richie looked over at her and grinned.
"Sure thing, just let me get changed real quick and I'll be right with you."
~~~~~~~~
Methos strolled down the little street following the warmth of the sun. A cool breeze blew and he shivered with delight at the small things in life.
Beautiful day he thought to himself. He then swore as he felt the presence of another Immortal grow stronger. He scanned the area around him carefully as he reached inside his coat for his Ivanhoe. He found the source of the buzz and stared for a second. Brian?, he thought.
Warily, Methos walked to where Brian stood with a ramrod-straight back and cold blue eyes.
"Brian, how are you?" Methos asked.
"Greetings Flaithbheartach," responded Brian with a nod.
"Actually it is Adam now," responded Methos. "It fits me better than that name. What are you doing here? I have heard things about you."
"I was seeking you actually. I need your help," replied Brian.
"If you will recall Brian, my debt has been repaid," Methos said warily.
"So it has, but if you will recall, I owe you," replied Brian who quickly glanced around him as if he expected to be overheard.
~~~~~~~~
1014 AD- Ireland, Battle of Clontarf
Brian Boru, High King of Ireland stood on the hill overlooking the field of battle. His enemy, Sitric of the Dublin Norse stood opposite the field on another hill looking at him.
"Flaithbheartach, this had better work," Brian said to his chief counselor.
The dark haired man looked at the Irish warriors and their positions on the field. He nodded in satisfaction at his trap for the Danes and yawned.
"It will, and my debt will be repaid in full," replied the four thousand year old man named Methos.
~~~~~~~~
1011 AD- Ireland, outside Dublin
Methos had been careless. Out riding one day to meet his lover, he was ambushed by a group of Sea Wolves. These Danes were but a small group however still too many for Methos to handle alone. He did not want to die and be looted for he did not know what they would do to his body. Being dead couldn't guarantee that your head would stay attached to your neck.
At the moment of attack, Methos dodged the first swipe of the axe and gutted the first man. The second threw an axe at him and it lodged in his side. The blood streaked Dane howled in delight and pulled the blade from Methos as he struggled to get up. Licking the blade clean the Norseman lifted the axe and fell forward dead. The others looked up startled only to have one head removed and another his arm detached. The remaining three ran for their lives, taking what they could from Methos' horse as they ran.
"You do not look so good, friend," said Brian as he tended to Methos' wound.
"Leave it," Methos said angrily. "I will be fine in a moment."
"I know wounds, and this one is not good. Allow me to treat it for pain" retorted Brian.
At that moment, Methos chose to die. Brian sighed and started to drag Methos' body to a rut at the side of the trail so he could cave some dirt over the body. Having moved the body, Brian went back for the weapons and turned around then froze. The dead man was getting up.
Crossing himself, Brian backed away slowly.
"Stay," commanded a calm Methos. "I know who you are, and I would be your friend."
"What are you," demanded a very scared Brian, though he would never have admitted it.
"A friend if you'd let me be. All else does not matter. I can help you with your problem as you so recently helped me," said Methos.
"What problem?" asked Brian, now confused more than anything.
"The Danes," replied Methos.
~~~~~~~~
1014- Aftermath of the battle
Sitric was nowhere to be found. His army was decimated but the leader of the Danes had disappeared. Brian had retired to his tent and had unbuckled his sword and leather armor. Brian then saw him. Sitric had been waiting in the shadows for this very moment. Sitric charged Brian and toppled him to the ground. Brian reeled from the impact to his head from a rock and his defenses fell. Sitric took the opportunity availed him and plunged the dagger into Brian's still beating heart. He spat on his face and got up to leave when someone entered the tent.
Methos looked up and understood instantly, drawing his sword, he quickly beheaded Sitric and then cleaned the blade off on his beard. He then pulled the dagger out of Brian and waited for the new Immortal to awaken.
~~~~~~~~
The present, AD
"You took me to the best teacher, Adam. Ceirdwyn taught me what I needed and we loved each other for two centuries. I owe you much thanks and many things." Brian paused and looked at Methos with pained eyes. "I have a problem that I can't handle. Whatever it will take to repay you, I would gladly owe you doubly now. My word is my bond and I am honor bound as a king to repay you" finished Brian.
"What is it?" Methos asked in resignation.
"It seems that I am not myself," replied Brian.
Methos quirked an eyebrow.
--End Chapter
~~~~~~~~
Hope you guys liked this one. I did some research and mixed a little history with fiction.
Here are my sources:
On Brian Boru: http://www.encyclopedia.com/html/B/BrianB1or.asp
On the Irish name I gave Methos: FLAITHBHEARTACH [flahertagh] is derived from flaith, a chief, and bearthatch, cunning; and means "a clever or cunning chief."
http://ahd.exis.net/monaghan/irish-names-naming.htm
Please review!!!!
~~~~~~~~