Okay, here comes the pseudo-mythology bit! Thanks for all the great reviews, by the way.
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CHAPTER FIVE
It was more like an hour before they eventually gathered together in the living area of Duncan's suite. Methos carefully laid out all the texts that Amanda had acquired from the vault before booting up his laptop and inserting the floppy.
"Right, then," he declared. "Amanda, you will work on the Latin and medieval French texts. Duncan, you'll look at the Greek and Egyptian texts, and I'll have a look at the Sumerian and Babylonian tablets. Joe will trawl through the dissertation."
"Yes sir!" Amanda muttered, picking up the Latin text by the corners.
"It's been a while since I've translated something this complicated," Duncan warned. "And my knowledge of Egyptian hieroglyphics aren't the best."
"Its better than Joe's, or Amanda's" replied Methos absently as he picked up one of the tablets. "Just ask me if you have any real problems."
The room fell quiet as they immersed themselves in their various texts; only the sound of turning pages broke the silence as the hours passed by. Eventually Joe groaned and put down the laptop.
"Time to raid the minibar I think," he pronounced, levering himself from the couch.
There was a mumble of assent from the room as they shifted in their seats and lay their research down.
"We could probably do with a summary of what we've read so far, anyway," Methos agreed. "I'll have a beer, Joe."
"We'll give you the honour of going first, then," smirked Duncan as he relaxed back into the sofa. "Seeing as you're so keen."
"Well, the good news is that for once the watchers have been studying a Sumerian text that doesn't refer to Gilgamesh. I swear if I come across another text referring to that jumped up tribal chieftain I'll go spare."
"Not fond of the adventures of Gilgamesh and Enkidu then?" Joe teased, setting a beer bottle on the table beside him.
"Oh please, the only reason that excuse for an immortal is still remembered is because he was too stupid to avoid getting caught reviving from the dead. In case you forgot, that little war he was famous for? He wasn't the victor, the idiot was creamed," Methos huffed.
"Oh no, we're not bitter at all," Amanda muttered as she accepted a glass of wine from Joe.
"Okay, so we all know now what the text doesn't say, care to tell us what it does?" asked Duncan, sipping his drink as he relaxed into the couch."
"Well, it's a story that involves quite a few disparate parts of Sumerian mythology," Methos explained as he opened his bottle, flipping the top behind him as he fell back into the armchair. "There is a short reference to the great goddess Nammu creating the earth from the Abzu – that's the primeval sea to you."
"Thanks for sharing that, now get on with the story will you?" Joe snarked.
"Well it goes on about the creation of Dilmun, which is a kind of Sumerian Eden who most historians assume refers to the modern area of Bahrain, along the eastern gulf."
"Would they be right?" Duncan asked curiously.
"Close enough," Methos admitted. "Anyway, according to this text, Dilmun had within its garden a spring that flowed from the Abzu and into a pond that the text refers to as 'the pool of lights'."
"Hold on, hold on," Duncan protested. "I may not be an expert on Sumerian mythology but I think I know enough to say that there aren't any references to a pool of lights, or a pool of anything for that matter."
"I'm right there with you, Mac, but that is what the text says," Methos explained.
"Is there more?" Amanda asked.
"Well, it goes on to describe the flood, and the granting of immortality to Ziusudra by An and Enlil, after which they tell him to stay in Dilmun. That much is pretty much the same as the usual translation of the myth, but then it diverges from the usual legend."
"Don't keep us in suspense then, tell us," Duncan urged.
"Well, apparently An and Enlil granted Ziusudra immortality through the use of a crystal stone, then told him to return it to whence it had come, once he grew tired of his gift."
"Let me guess, the pool of lights," Joe concluded.
"And we have a winner," smiled Methos as he took a sip from his beer. "Apparently though, Ziusudra was a naughty boy and didn't return the stone to the pool, but gave it to his son before passing away peacefully. An and Enlil were not pleased to say the least, and they hunted for Ziusudra's son but to no avail, for he had disappeared from their sight. Apparently, they appealed to Nammu for help in tracking the stone down and returning it to the pool, but she refused, saying that once something was created from the Abzu it could never be returned to it and thus uncreated, and so the stone passed onto the mortal coil," Methos explained.
"But why then is it called the Methuselah stone?" enquired Amanda.
"The passage of time," Methos shrugged. "It's no secret that whole tracts of the book of Genesis from the Bible were taken wholesale from the ancient Sumerian beliefs, right up to and including the flood. The order in which things occurred was changed around, and the names differed, but the basic stories stayed the same. If I had to guess, the stone was attributed to Methuselah in the later millennia because the name Ziusudra ceased to have any meaning for the peoples that knew of it. It wouldn't have been the first time this has happened, the Babylonian text more or less tells the same legend, except in their version Ziusudra is called Ut-napishtim"
"Don't you just wish sometimes that these old writers would just cut the crap, and stopped couching their thoughts in metaphor?" Joe complained, rattling the ice in his glass.
"Which reminds me, what did the mysterious Tribeau have to say in his little epic?" enquired Methos, leaning forward in the seat.
"To be quite honest, I don't know what to make of it. The whole thing is a rather long-winded account of some mystical waters secreted at some undisclosed location in France. They apparently have the ability to make things that were broken whole again. I thought it may have something to do with the "pool of lights", but as France is nowhere near Bahrain…"
"You may be wrong about there being no connection," interjected Amanda. "The Latin text I have refers to the Roman goddess Egeria. Apparently, she was a water nymph and the goddess's Diana midwife. The text tells of a Roman woman called Lativia who feared for her unborn child's life, and went to Egeria for help. Supposedly, a noblewoman who had been slighted by Lativia's husband had cursed her child to a life that was not whole. The story says that the pregnant woman appealed to Egeria for aid and she agreed to help. Giving Lativia a flask, she told her that it contained the stuff that all life was created from. She directed Lativia to go to the most northerly point of the Roman Empire, and find a pool of water to pour it into. Once she had done this, she was to bathe in the water for seven nights, and after the seventh night, her child would be forever whole."
"Let me guess: at the time the text was written, the most northerly part of the Roman Empire was France," Joe commented.
"It was written only a couple of years after the Romans conquered the Gaul's," agreed Amanda.
"What about the piece written in medieval French?" Duncan asked.
"Oh, you'll love this," Amanda exclaimed, as she smiled at Duncan. "It talks about Charlemagne's friendship with a French monk who bore the name of the great general Darius! Apparently they became fast friends when Darius helped one of Charlemagne's daughters back to health after she fell victim to a fever. It seems he cured her by bathing her in healing waters."
"I'm beginning to see a theme in all this," Joe said. "Pity Darius is dead, I'd love to know where these waters are."
"Actually, we do know," Methos admitted as he caught Duncan's eyes across the room.
"We do?" chorused Amanda and Joe.
"Yeah, we do," Duncan said as he laid his glass on the table. "Methos took me there when I was suffering from the dark quickening. It was how I was healed - how I was made 'whole' again," he added, with an ironic twist to his mouth.
Amanda and Joe both looked at Methos, who just shrugged in response.
"Well that's something you left out of your explanation of Duncan's recovery," Joe said wryly.
"I didn't even know there was a dark quickening to recover from," Amanda admitted, looking at Duncan enquiringly.
"You weren't in town at the time," Duncan reluctantly explained. "And by the time I saw you again, I had recovered and… well… it's not something I like to talk about."
"So… what did your research turn up?" asked Methos as he tried to direct the conversation away from what was obviously still a painful subject for Duncan.
Joe threw Methos a shrewd look, but said nothing as Duncan sorted through his notes.
"To start with, my pieces mention nothing about any waters, mystical or otherwise," he began. "The Greek texts both talk about a prophecy given by a Delphic Oracle during the fifth century B.C.E., it's basically a warning – 'Beware the Elder who seeks what cannot be, that which is done cannot be undone'."
"Well, that sounds ominous, if a little obscure," Amanda observed.
"'Obscure' is the word I'd use for just about everything we've read this evening," said Joe, grinning.
"What does the Egyptian text say?" prompted Methos.
"It's an account of the tributes received by Ramses the Great from a Babylonian king, nothing more than a list really. I've written out what the tributes were, but nothing jumps out at me. Here, take a look."
Duncan passed the sheet across the table to Methos, who read the list quickly.
"Nothing leaps out at me either," he admitted.
"So, can anyone make any sense out of all this?" Joe asked, grasping his cane before standing up to refill his glass.
"I could make a pretty good stab at it," Amanda said darkly. "Tribeau wants to make something that is unwhole whole, and we all know that the Methuselah stone isn't exactly in one piece at the moment."
"If he can make the crystal whole by dipping it in the waters, why does he need Amanda's piece?"
"Because, although the waters were created from the Abzu, it isn't actually the primeval waters," Methos mused. "The waters can fix that which is broken, but it can't create that which isn't there. The Methuselah stone is only the Methuselah stone as long as all pieces are connected. Without Amanda's piece, all you've got is a harmless piece of crystal. Darius could heal Charlemagne's child because she had it within herself to heal, the waters just gave her immune system a push. The same goes for Duncan, the waters could heal him of his dark quickening because he had his true self buried within."
"That makes sense I suppose," Joe acknowledged.
"So, what we're saying is that Tribeau and Valmont wish to gather all the pieces and bring them to the waters to rejoin them and make the stone whole again," Duncan concluded.
"That's pretty much it," Methos agreed.
"And the question still remains, why?" wondered Joe.
"I wish I knew, Joe," Methos muttered.
"I wonder if they know the location of the waters as well," Amanda said.
"Seeing that the fate of the Methuselah stone has been public knowledge for over half a decade among the watchers, but these renegades have only decided to make their move now, I'd guess yes. It was probably the discovery of the waters that caused this sudden flurry of cloak and dagger in the first place," Methos suggested.
"All this is giving me a headache," sighed Duncan. "How about we retire and continue this tomorrow?"
"Sounds like a plan," Methos concurred as he stood to go. "We still have a plane to catch tomorrow, and it would be nice to fly semi awake for once." With that, Methos accompanied Joe out of the suite
"Night, night," Amanda called out after them.
"Sweet dreams," Joe called back, shutting the door after him.
It was the harsh ring of the telephone that woke Methos the next morning.
"Good morning, Mr Sabotini, this is your wake up call. It's eight-thirty A.M.," said a soft, professional voice.
For a moment Methos looked confusedly at the receiver, then he remembered what passport he was travelling under.
"Umm, thank you," he mumbled belatedly.
Returning the phone to its cradle, Methos rolled out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he had showered and packed the few things he had brought with him. Toting his carryall, he made his way down to the dining room where Joe awaited him.
"Mac and Amanda not up yet?" he enquired as he sat down at the table.
"Oh, they're up alright," grinned Joe, "they just haven't finished 'freshening up' yet."
Rolling his eyes, Methos beckoned a waitress and ordered his breakfast. A quarter of an hour later it arrived, followed closely by Amanda and Duncan.
"Glad you could join us," Methos said dryly, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss," Amanda replied, smiling at the waitress.
Methos snorted and returned to his breakfast as Amanda and Mac ordered. Soon afterwards, their breakfasts had arrived and the table fell silent as they ate and sipped at their coffee.
"We'd better get a move on," Methos eventually said. "The flight departs at midday."
Duncan pulled out Amanda's chair and they all rose to leave; Methos, Joe, and Amanda walked on ahead to the car park while Duncan ducked upstairs to collect Amanda's and… well… Amanda's luggage. Ten minutes later, Duncan reappeared, dragging Amanda's many bags behind him.
"Oh honey, they do have bell hops you know," Amanda cooed.
"Probably couldn't afford one," Methos said gleefully. "With that amount of luggage, the tip would run into four figures."
With a glare, Duncan popped the boot of Amanda's rental and stowed the luggage. Unfortunately for him, there wasn't enough room, so he had to listen to Methos's roar of laughter as he opened the back door and heaped the rest onto the backseat.
"Sometimes that man is absolutely insufferable," he told Amanda, as he watched Methos get into Joe's car.
"Actually I was thinking it was a bit of a relief to hear him laugh," observed Amanda. "It's the first time since I've arrived that he's so much as giggled. I was beginning to get worried."
"You're kidding me," Duncan said as he pulled his seatbelt on.
"No, I'm not," answered Amanda soberly, "Haven't you noticed how off he's been; he looks like he's about to jump out of his skin. I think he's a lot more worried about his memory loss than he's letting on."
Duncan grew thoughtful as he listened to Amanda's worries. "Now that you say it, I think you're right. Should we try to talk to him about it?"
"I don't really know," responded Amanda. "Maybe we should just wait and see if he brings it up."
"Not going to happen," Duncan told her. "Methos never volunteers."
"You're right, I suppose," she sighed, pulling out of the parking lot. "Let's play it by ear, then. We could probably bring it up in conversation, see how he reacts."
"He's going to see what we're up to from a mile off," Duncan pointed out.
"Have you any better suggestions?" asked an exasperated Amanda.
"Let's have a chat with Joe first," Duncan replied. "He may have some ideas."
Amanda nodded in agreement. "Sounds like the best thing to do," she admitted, turning on to the airport road.
The flight back to Sofia was uneventful, and it was still afternoon when they landed.
"If we hire our cars now we could make it to Travda by tonight," suggested Methos as they strolled through the terminus.
"My, we are in a hurry," commented Joe.
"I just want to make sure they haven't been up to something while we were gone," Methos said fretfully. "We're too much in the dark as it is."
"You were the one that was so gung-ho about going to Istanbul in the first place," Joe retorted.
"That was when I thought we'd discover the connection between Tribeau and Valmont, but all we've found are more questions," he grumbled as he looked about for the car rental desk.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Joe said as he figured out what Methos was looking for. "The cars are rented around that bend."
"No need to be snotty about it," Methos sniffed, stalking down the corridor.
"See what I mean?" Amanda pointed out to Duncan as she made to follow Methos. "Way too touchy!"
"Well, Joe is a bit touchy too," Duncan said.
"Methos usually enjoys riling Joe up," Amanda pointed out. "He finds it hilarious, he told me so himself!"
"Hey! Standing right here, you know," Joe interjected.
"Sorry, Joe," Amanda called back as she walked off. "Duncan, have a chat with him, will you?"
And with, that she ran to catch up with Methos, who had just disappeared around the corner.
"Adam! Adam! Hold up!" she hollered, in a very unladylike fashion.
Methos halted abruptly and hung his head in exasperation. "It's Roberto, Amanda," he hissed lowly, as he furtively glanced at the rental desk. "I'm travelling under the name of Roberto Sabotini."
"Oops, sorry!" whispered Amanda, before raising her voice again. "ROBERTO ADAM SABOTINI, DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME AGAIN," she complained loudly. Slapping him across the shoulder, she stalked away from him and approached the desk with an exaggerated swing of the hips.
"I've said it before and I say it again, that woman will be the death of me," he grumbled under his breath, but he couldn't quite suppress the smile on his face as he joined her at the desk.
"…Oh you know what men are like," he overheard Amanda tell the desk clerk in a low confiding voice. "They'll never let you have the final word."
Methos smiled widely at the clerk, who blushed deeply as she noticed his arrival.
"Been telling the nice young lady all my failings, have we, Amanda?" he asked rhetorically, leaning on the desk and winking at the clerk. He hadn't thought it possible, but the poor girl managed to go a shade redder.
"Oh, he's finally decided to have a conversation with me," Amanda replied in a singsong voice as she filled out her form. "Could you tell Mr. Sabotini that I'm not in the mood to speak with him? Oh, and tell him he'd better rent his own car, he'll travelling alone from now on!"
"Who, me?" squeaked the clerk, frozen with embarrassment.
"It's all right m'dear," Methos interjected in a soothing voice. "I think I caught all that, just pass me a form."
The harried clerk quickly produced a form and pen and made a quick retreat to her computer desk. Desperately avoiding their eyes, she pretended to be intensely fascinated with the bouncing ball in her screensaver.
"You don't think you might have overdone it?" Methos whispered as bent his head to fill out the form.
"Let's put it this way, do you think she'll now question you about why I called you Adam when you passport says your name is Roberto?" she mumbled back, signing her form with a flourish and trying to catch the eye of the reluctant clerk.
"Good point" Methos muttered, as the terrified clerk approached the counter again.
"Forms all filled out?" she asked nervously, picking the up the papers.
"Yes," Amanda and Methos cried loudly in unison, making the poor girl nearly jump out of her skin.
"Right then," she stuttered. "I'll just get the keys for you then, shall I?"
Two minutes later, they were on their way back to Duncan and Joe.
"You see? She didn't even ask us for picture I.D.," crowed Amanda as she jangled her keys.
"I defer to your superior guile," replied Methos, gracing Amanda with a sweeping bow as they rounded the corner.
"Oh, you're just saying that," Amanda replied with mock coyness, flicking an imaginary fan in response.
The duo collapsed into giggles as they approached Duncan and Joe, drawing amused looks from the throng around them. Joe watched them with a perplexed air as they drew nearer. Methos didn't look that stressed out to him - what was Duncan talking about? Joe looked questioningly at Duncan who just shrugged bemusedly.
"Hey guys, why the frowns?" Methos asked cheerfully as he pushed his hands into his pockets and sauntered up to them. "Did something happen while we were gone?"
"Just wondering what the joke was, that's all," Joe replied, with a fair approximation of nonchalance.
We'll explain it to you on the way to Travda," laughed Amanda as she linked arms with Joe and led the way to the parking lot.
Methos recounted Amanda's flustering of the desk clerk to Joe as they drove along the country roads, taking care not to leave out all her inflexions and mannerisms, as well as the look on the poor girl's face as she stood there in embarrassment. By the time he had got around to describing the bouncing ball on the computer screen, Joe was crying with laughter.
"Oh, man," he wheezed. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall when that girl takes her coffee break."
"That depends on whether or not she has regained her ability to speak," sniggered Methos. "It wouldn't be much fun if she couldn't share the pain, so to speak."
"Evil, that's what you are," Joe declared as he shook his head in response.
"Never denied it," Methos replied amiably.
The journey passed pleasantly as the two automobiles sped through the night towards their destination. When they arrived at their Hotel, dusk had just fallen and the stars had begun to peep through the evening light. As a group, they spilled into reception and made a beeline for the desk.
"Ah, good day, Mr. Dawson. Your daughter is waiting for you in the dining room," the smiling receptionist told Joe as he reached the desk.
All four froze. How the hell did Amy find them? Methos looked at Joe accusingly.
"Care to share, Joe?" he asked, with a false smile on his lips.
"I'm as confused as you," he said, glancing at the dining room door.
"Well, stop standing there like a couple of scared little boys and follow me," Amanda instructed as she sashayed into the dining room.
"Chop, chop," grinned Duncan. "Time to walk into the lions' den!"
Reluctantly Joe and Methos followed Amanda to meet their fate, pausing at the doorway as they spotted Amy's glowering face at one of the tables.
"Oh, boy. We're for it," Joe muttered, looking sideways at Methos's blank face.
"Smile, Joe, I hear it helps," Methos mumbled back as he strode forward.
"Ah, there you are," Amanda declared from her newly taken seat. "Aren't you going to join us?"
With a glare in Amanda's direction, Methos sat at the table and studied the silent Amy.
"Hello, Honey," Joe said nervously as he reached the table. "What brings you here?"
Amy threw a wallet onto the table in answer.
"Oh…" Methos uttered.
"Yes, oh," Amy said sarcastically.
"Whose wallet is it?" Joe asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Mine," Methos admitted sheepishly.
"Hira says hi by the way," Amy said flatly. "She hopes you didn't miss your train from Travda. Obviously, her hopes are dashed."
"I asked her to mail it to the bar," Methos pointed out.
"And who do you think ended up running it, while you took my father gallivanting around Eastern Europe," Amy retorted.
"I see your point," Methos answered quietly.
"Oh, you haven't even begun to see my point," Amy declared ominously.
Methos winced as she folded her arms and glared, while everyone shuffled in their seats. With a sigh, Amanda gestured at the waiter who was hovering around the table, and asked for some menus. Gratefully, her table companions immersed themselves in reading the entrées, as Amy's face got darker and darker.
"So, is anyone going to tell me what is going on here?" she demanded after the waiter left with their orders.
"We'll tell you all when we're somewhere a little more private," soothed Amanda as she took a sip of water.
"I want the full and unedited version," she warned, "no skirting around the subject."
"You're my watcher, not my keeper," Methos reminded her. "You're supposed to be observing and recording from a discreet distance, not demanding answers from me in person. In fact, you're not even supposed to talking to me! Non-interference, remember?"
"Don't you dare!" burst out Amy. "You gave up the right to use that excuse when you did a runner with my father in tow. As far as I'm concerned, you're the one who chose to ignore that 'discreet distance'! I was worried sick."
"Now, you just stop right there, Amy," Joe cut in. "I came along on this trip to track down Duncan, who if you may recall, happens to be my assignment."
"Oh, yeah," his daughter snorted. "And, of course, this is exactly how watchers are supposed to track their immortals, by traipsing around with a group of his immortal cohorts through the back end of Europe."
"Oh p-l-e-a-s-e," said Methos snidely. "You're just pissed because you weren't invited along."
"Damn right I am," she fired back.
Amanda tried unsuccessfully to wipe the smile off her face as she watched the immortal and watcher face off across the table.
"Are you two going to continue this cat fight all through the meal?" she enquired as she unfolded her napkin.
"What fight?" Methos asked with an innocent expression. "I'm just explaining to Amy why we shouldn't be having this conversation."
A noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came from behind Duncan's raised hand.
"You have something to say, Duncan?" asked Amy sarcastically. "Please, don't hold back on my account."
"Who? Me? Oh no – just a tickle in my throat," he said before he caught Amanda's eye across the table and broke up into gales of laughter.
"It's not funny," Amy protested. It was too late however; she could already feel the corners of her mouth twitching.
Joe had already averted his head as tried in vain to suppress the grin that was plastered all over his face. Even Methos was smirking. Eventually Amy caved and began to laugh.
"Alright, alright, you win," she conceded as she slumped into her chair. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private."
"There's a good girl," said Methos with condescending approval, picking up his wallet from the table.
"Are you trying to start an argument?" Amanda asked exasperatedly. "The damage is done, Roberto, stop trying to avoid the inevitable."
"Adam," Methos replied lowly.
"What?" was the puzzled rejoinder.
"I'm registered as Adam Pierson here," Methos explained.
Amanda studied his face for a moment before answering in a low, measured, tone. "You know it may be a good idea to cut down on the alter-egos, Adam. Keeping it to one a day would make a good start."
Methos kept silent. He knew better than to answer when Amanda became cranky.
The meal was a tense affair as everyone tried to avoid causing another flare up between Methos and Amy, and the relief was palpable when they stood up from the table as the waiter cleared the table.
"How about I fill Amy in?" Amanda volunteered as they made their way to the lift. All things considered, she didn't think it was a good idea that Methos be left in charge of telling the tale, and Joe didn't look too eager to do it, either.
Upstairs, Methos disappeared into his room without a word, closing the door firmly behind him. With a sigh, Amanda waved everyone else into her room.
"What's up with him?" Amy asked as she sat in an armchair and looked at Amanda with a puzzled air. "I knew he'd be irritated, but this is ridiculous. He knew I'd be right on his tail the minute I found out where he was, it's my job."
"He has a lot on his mind," Amanda explained, as she sat on the bed beside Duncan. "Let me tell you what has happened up 'til now, and maybe you'll get a better picture of what is going on at the moment."
Amanda spent the next hour recounting the events of the previous few days, at Amy's insistence going into detail about what they knew of the renegade watchers. The whole affair with the Methuselah stone left her a little nonplussed, and she looked at Joe for confirmation as Amanda described what the stone's powers were supposed to be. When Amanda explained about Methos's bout of amnesia, her face went thoughtful.
"No wonder he's cranky," she mused.
"You'd better get used to it," Duncan advised. "His mood have been swinging like a yo-yo for the last four days, and I've a funny feeling he's not going improve until this has all been cleared up."
Amy nodded soberly as she stood up and went over to give her father a hug.
"I think I'll retire for the night, if it's all to same to you, Dad," she murmured as she kissed him on the cheek. "It's probably going to be a long day tomorrow."
TBC…