Shelter from the Storm Chapter 15

All standard disclaimers apply. This story is mine, as are the characters of Leyza Berard, Ray Garcia, Phillippe and Marie Vachon, Francine, Solange Laperrier and Jeremy Cole. Please do not borrow them without asking.

The Highlander concepts and the characters of Duncan MacLeod, Joe Dawson and May Ling Shen are not. They belong to Gregory Widen, Davis/Panzer, Rysher, Gaumont and probably a few others I've forgotten. I've dared to use them without permission, and hope they'll forgive the transgression, because this story is merely a labor of love. I'm not making a cent from it.


She turned to find him standing near the table with a plate in each hand. He was grinning like a child with a new toy to show off - but as she moved closer, the grin faded and he swept her with a worried glance.

"I'm sorry," he said, bending to set the plates on the low table. "I guess, I didn't plan this very well."

He skittered from side to side like a squirrel caught in the middle of the street as he clearly tried to come up with a solution for a problem Leyza didn't yet see.

"I've ... ah, got a folding table and some chairs," he said, raking his fingers through his hair. The nervous gesture left it in a tousled state with a few dark curls dangling over his forehead, and Leyza found the result quite charming.

"They're up in the wheelhouse," he continued, then he started to walk away. "I'll go get them and--"

"I've spent quite a lot of time in the Orient, Duncan," she said, grasping his arm to keep him in place. "I have no problem with sitting on the floor, but you'll have to promise not to look while I sit in this dress. I have the distinct feeling, I will look about as graceful as a dodo bird coming in for a landing."

"Dodos birds didn't fly," he said laughing, then held his hand over his eyes.

"Exactly," Leyza said, as she toed off her high-heeled pumps.

Duncan slid his hand down his face, then peered at her through his fingers. "Are you sure ... because I can still get the--"

"It's all right," she said, then she motioned for him to cover his eyes, before she dropped down to the cushion on the floor. "Okay, you can look, now."

The impish grin had returned to curve the corners of his mouth, and so had the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You do that quite well," he said. "Not at all like a dodo bird."

"You peeked."

He ducked his head and chuckled softly. "A little."

Leyza regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "Obviously, you can't be trusted."

"Never said I could," he replied with a slightly wicked grin, then moving with more grace than she thought humanly possible, he sank down to the cushion on the opposite side of the table.

He cocked his head in a questioning gesture as he held the wine bottle out to her. She nodded, then as he filled her glass, she studied his hands.

They were magnificent hands - hands Michelangelo might have sculpted. She imagined his strong fingers stroking her body in the heat of passion. Imagined what luscious sensations they could elicit with a tender touch in just the right places. And she had no doubt that he would know all the right places.

Ducking her head to hide the flush that spread over her cheeks, she forced the images to the back of her mind and shifted her position on the cushion to quell the tremors ripping through her body. While she fought for control, she sipped her wine and savored the crisp, yet fruity taste of the excellent Chardonnay.

"So who goes first - you or me?" she asked when she thought she could keep her voice steady.

Duncan blinked as he looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Pardon?"

"This is our first date - right?"

Hearing the roar of conversational rapids ahead, he nodded slowly and with increasing apprehension.

"Well, we could talk about philosophy, or ancient history, or the state of the human condition like we did when we met on the bridge, but since this is a real date, I think it's customary to trade tidbits of our lives - past and present."

Somewhat relieved, Duncan chuckled softly. "Who made up that rule?"

"Hoyle, of course," Leyza answered, gazing at him over her wine glass. "He made all those rules. Don't tell me you've never read, Hoyle's Rules of Dating?"

It seemed the conversation was headed into safe water, but ripples of anxiety still coursed through him as he grinned broadly. "I must have missed that one."

"Well, it could also have been Emily Post or Miss Manners," she said. "I'm not really sure ... so who's going first?"

Now was the time to take control - to anchor the conversation in a safe harbor. He gazed at her for a long moment as he considered his options, then he shifted his focus to the fork in his hand. "I was born in 1592 in the Highlands of Scotland," he said, twirling strands of pasta around the fork. Better to stick with the distant past - it was far less complicated.

"My father was the Chieftain of our clan, and I died the first time in 1622, when a warrior from a neighboring clan ran me through with a sword," he looked up at her, then grinned. "Now it's your turn." Perhaps if he could keep her talking about herself, he could avoid getting into trouble.

Picking up her own fork, Leyza laughed. "Well, I guess we are going to talk about ancient history, after all. How extensive is your knowledge of ancient peoples?"

He shrugged, then took a sip of wine to wash down a mouthful of food. "How ancient?"

She cocked her head as she drifted back through time. "Late first century ... circa 76 A.D. - depending on whose calendar you're using."

"Bit before my time," he said with a grin. "But I've read a lot of history, so go on."

"Well, I was born in Dacia, over 1900 years ago," she began. "After the first few centuries, I gave up trying to keep track - especially when they started screwing around with the calendars."

Nodding, Duncan smiled, then he refilled her wine glass.

"Ours was a mountain village near the Oltul River in the heart of the Carpathians - ancient Transylvania," she said in her best Bela Lugosi imitation. "If I close my eyes, I can still see the breathtaking views as if it was yesterday."

She paused to take a forkful of pasta, then she washed it down with more wine. Waving her empty fork, she continued. "Like many of our people, my father was a part time warrior who herded cattle when he wasn't off making war. My mother was a weaver, a potter, a basket-maker - she was always creating something beautiful with her hands.

"When we were just children, I was pledged to marry Tiege, the son of our tribe's Chieftain ... but he and I were lucky - we grew up as friends. Of course, I didn't love him the way I loved PJ, but I loved him just the same and he loved me." She sighed at the wistful memory.

"He didn't even let his disappointment over my inability to conceive a child through 12 years of marriage sway him from complete devotion."

"Must have been difficult for both of you," Duncan said with a sympathetic smile.

She took a deep breath and a sip of wine, then she shrugged. "Some things weren't meant to be." She grinned at him. "But who knew what was to be?"

As he had hoped, Leyza kept talking. Throughout the course of the meal, she regaled him with amusing anecdotes about her early life and the rich culture of her people.

When Duncan stood to clear their empty plates, she picked up her own, then shifted to her knees. "Relax," he said. "Have some more wine, I'll take care of this." He reached for the plate in her hand, but she pulled it back just out of his reach as she clambered to her feet.

"I want to help," she insisted. "We'll get it done faster."

He made one more attempt to snatch the plate from her hand, but she laughed as she held it just far enough away so he couldn't grab it.

"You're impossible," he said with an exasperated sigh, giving in before it turned into a game of keep-away. Still her laughter was infectious and he couldn't help laughing with her.

When he finally shooed her out from behind the bar, she helped herself to another glass of wine, then continued her tale.

"In 106 - with Trajan's legions at our doorstep - King Decebal called all the Chieftains and their families to Sarmisegethusa. He held a huge banquet, and ordered everyone to drink poison rather than let the Romans take us prisoners.

"Tiege's father decided to disobey the king. He said if he was going to give up his life, he intended to take as many Romans with him as he could. He persuaded Tiege, my parents and me to go along with his plan. He was a great bear of a man like Phillippe Vachon, and he could be quite convincing when he put his mind to it." At that last comment, she grinned.

"We pretended to drink the poison, then we met the Romans at the gates of the city. Of course we were all slaughtered, but we took a fair number Romans with us - as Tiege's father had hoped. Of course, to my great surprise, and the great dismay of the soldier who chose to strip this particular corpse of her jewelry - I didn't stay dead."

"That must have been quite a shock," Duncan said, laughing as he stowed away the last of the dishes.

"As long as I live, I will never forget the look on his face - it was priceless. He couldn't run away fast enough ... but a few minutes later, he came back with his centurion - who thought he was bonkers, by the way," she said, moving with a restless energy as she paced in front of the bar.

"While I was still trying to figure out how come I was alive, while everyone else was dead, they took me prisoner. But I was lucky. The centurion - Aeneas was his name - was a gentle and kind man, who had become quite disgusted with the senseless slaughter and destruction."

Leyza took a long deep breath and a sip of wine. Even after more than 19 centuries, she could still recall the stench of the burning city, still hear the cries of the women and children, still see the broken and bleeding bodies of her friends and family.

Duncan came out from behind the bar to stand beside her. As he brushed a recalcitrant spiral of hair back from her face with a gentle stroke of his fingers, he gazed at her with caring concern shining in his eyes. "War always comes down to senseless slaughter and destruction," he said softly.

"Yes, it does," she answered with a nod.

She hadn't intended to wander down this painful memory path, but once she started talking about the past, that horrific scene always forced its way to the front of her mind. Turning away, she began walking a circuit of the room to regain her composure.

"After they burned and looted the city," she continued. "Aeneas was recalled to Rome. Though his fellow centurions advised against it, he took me home with him to be a handmaiden for his wife, Serina."

She stopped, then turned to look at Duncan with a lifted eyebrow. "You see, Dacian women had a fierce reputation - there were rumors that we were torturing captured Roman soldiers. A vicious lie, of course," she said, grinning.

"Of course," Duncan said with a smile.

Leyza was tired of standing, but she could see no place to sit except on the cushions by the table - and she wasn't going through that again. Her only other option was to sit on the stairs, or on the waist-high wall formed by the other level. There was the bed, of course, but she wasn't sure if they were quite ready for the implications of that action, so she chose to sit on the wall.

Setting her wine glass on the upper floor, she levered herself up with her hands. She let her legs dangle over the edge, then she crossed her ankles to maintain at least some of her dignity. The slacks, she originally wanted to wear, definitely would have worked better than the dress, but then she smiled as she remembered Duncan's reaction to the dress. It had certainly produced a desirable effect.

"So how did you find out you were Immortal," Duncan asked, as he ambled over to sit beside her.

"I was a slow-learner," she said, turning to grin at him. "It took me three years."

"Me too," he said with a soft chuckle, then he grew serious. "My father thought I was some kind of demon or evil spirit, and he banished me. I wandered around Scotland trying to figure it all out, then I met Connor MacLeod, my first teacher."

"Mine was Vespera, the wife of a Roman general," Leyza said.

"I met her in the marketplace near the Forum. Serina wanted me to make her a new tunic, so she took me with her when she went shopping for the material. When I felt Vespera's presence, I thought I'd become ill - so did Serina. She found me a quiet place to sit down, then she went to a nearby well to get some water. She wasn't gone two minutes when Vespera came at me with her sword drawn. I thought she was crazy."

Duncan chuckled softly, but the sound echoed in the nearly empty room and Leyza realized that the music had stopped. She slid off the wall with as much grace as she could muster, then crossed the room to the shelf and the CD player.

"Didn't take her long to figure out that I was clueless," she said, glancing back over her shoulder. "Though Serina and Aeneas treated me well, I was still a slave. I knew had to learn more about being Immortal, but Vespera's husband was being posted to Britain. She helped me slip away, then I lived with them for three years while she taught me."

Leyza picked up the CD's she'd set aside earlier. One was a collection of romantic, but vapid contemporary music that she assumed someone else must have given Duncan because it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of his eclectic collection. She considered the list of songs for a moment, but rejected it because it didn't fit her mood.

"Vespera's husband was killed in a battle with the Saxons," she continued, as she removed a silver iridescent disk - one that did suit her mood - from its case.

"She had nothing to keep her in Britain, and she hated it there anyway, so when she decided to revisit her homeland - Persia - I went with her. We traveled together for about 5 years, then she fell in love with an Arab trader in Palmyra, and I came back to Europe on my own."

She slid the CD into the player, then waited a moment until the stirring strains of Begin the Beguine filled the room with the romantic sound of Cole Porter's classic. Swaying her hips to the sweeping music, she returned to Duncan's side. "Do you dance?" she asked.

"I'm a little rusty," he said with a grin, but he slid down from his perch on the wall.

"They say it's like riding a bicycle," she said. Stepping closer to him, she held her arms out.

The candlelight caught a flicker of desire in Duncan's dark eyes as he gazed at her for a moment, then suddenly he grabbed her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. Before Leyza could take another breath, he whirled her around in a tight circle, then pulled her close to him as he bent her back over his arm.

"They say that about a lot of things," he said in a deep velvety voice that triggered a pulsating itch deep within her.

Her lungs refused to take more than short little gasps of breath, and her heart thumped with an uneven rhythm as she looked up at him, then she smiled - a long slow smile that said she knew he meant a dance of another kind.

"So they do," she said, when she finally gathered enough breath to exhale.