Okay, bonus for today! By the way... I note that my interior chapter breaks indicating time passing and/ or change of point of view are not showing up. I've tried several different characters... but nothing apparently works. I'm not certain what to do... as without them... there could be some confusion! Suggestions? elle

Chapter 17

London, 1453

The boatmen steered the long shallow boat up the Thames. Eleanor relaxed against the seat and grinned at Phillip. It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to go anywhere… be anyone else besides Marie… mid-wife to the poor… that it was a treat to be in a place where life and color and warmth permeated everything she saw and felt.

"It's time for a wake, Little Sister. It's been too long!" Phillip had told her when he'd arrived in Paris last week. "Antoninus says it's time and I have to agree with him You are too pale and too thin, and far too serious. Life is to be lived! Tell her Darius." He'd turned then to regard the immortal priest with an open gesture. "Tell her to go… She buries herself here in this city as you do. She is too young for this."

Darius had smiled at her warmly. "Go Eleanor. Have some fun. Enjoy yourself… embrace life once more." In his eyes she still saw the shadow of the plague years they had both endured. But despite the invitation… he refused to join them. Shaking his head he'd said merely, "Somehow I don't think this party is one I'd enjoy. Another time perhaps."

So she and Phillip had left Paris, stopping only long enough to purchase suitable attire for Eleanor in Calais. "Who am I again?" she'd asked, overwhelmed by the trunks of clothes and jewelry that Phillip had purchased for her.

"You are my sister, Ellen. We are on our way to London to see an old friend. I am Phillip, Earl of Madison." He'd bowed deeply, sweeping his soft hat from his head and properly lowering his head as if he were addressing a monarch.

"And the game? And why London?"

"Antoninus has something in mind… something we can only do there. As I had no idea what we might do this time… I await his pleasure." He'd laughed then and swung her about lifting her high into the air as in the popular dance of the day.

Eleanor had squealed… feeling for the first time in years… a delight in life… and an eagerness for what the new day might bring. For too long… even after the Black Death had finally seemed to loosen its death-grip on Paris and, indeed, all of Europe, she had seen only the faces of the survivors… beaten down by death… and living lives of quiet desperation. Not even her close friendship with Darius had eased the darkness that gripped Eleanor's heart. She drifted through life… feeling as if at any moment… Death would return… and with it… the end of light… the end of day… the end of joy.

When Edward… or Antoninus as Phillip still called him… had returned at long last to Paris from his journeys to the far East, and had stopped by for a visit… she had found no joy in his return. He was simply one more immortal in a city where only immortals were doomed to survive. He had not been here… how could he hope to understand what it had been like for them? Phillip had been in Italy… he, at least, had a frame of reference… but Edward's lightheartedness, smirks, and teasing demeanor had served only to alienate her further from him. She didn't know him! Not really! Eleanor wondered if she ever would.

Now she and Phillip sat in the long shallow skiff and watched the river flow by colorfully dressed figures milling about on the green lawns of the spacious estates they passed. Eleanor carefully arranged the heavy velvet of her voluminous skirts and grinned impishly at her mentor and friend. She thought such attire ridiculous. Usually for a wake she dressed as a boy, finding it far easier to keep up with the two of them in whatever madness they devised rather than to be a proper lady. Although she was usually dressed as a peasant woman while in Paris… it had been centuries since Eleanor had thought of herself as a lady. It seemed a part of her mortal life that even now she could barely recall. It had been another world… another life… perhaps it was only a dream.

The skiff turned toward a dock on the shore. Already Eleanor could sense an immortal presence and see the tall slender form of Edward… once her husband, then her teacher… now? What was he now? Eleanor shook her head. She didn't entirely trust him. Beneath her cape… she fingered her short jeweled dirk… the only blade a gentlewoman might safely be seen to carry in public. Even with its short blade… it could be a deadly weapon when wielded by the right hands. Eleanor had yet to have to meet another immortal in combat… although she practiced daily as Phillip had taught her… It was far easier to just fade away and remain on the periphery of the game. Although ready and willing to defend herself… she had in her time in Paris begun to wonder if the game was the only way for her kind to exist. Darius had spoken to her often that there was another way… a way of peace.

"Ahh!" Phillip turned and spread his arms in a great wave. "There he is!" He laughed. If he were at all suspicious of the reasons for this wake… he was not showing them. He wore two swords… one was hers. "If we are stopped… if we meet someone… I'll toss you yours." While not the best solution… it had been the best option for their journey.

The skiff grated along the side of the wharf and came to a stop. Hastily the boatmen secured their oars while one man leaped out to tie off and secure the skiff. Once done… he leaned down to assist Eleanor in her ascent from the craft. Once she was on the dock, Edward bowed with a smile and reached for her offered hand, which he gently kissed, a twinkle in his eye.

"Welcome my Lady to my humble home."

As Phillip climbed to the dock, Edward turned and greeted him as an old friend. Leaving their luggage to be handled by Edward's retainers, the immortals headed across the spacious grounds and up to a large greystone manor house. The staff stood assembled in the courtyard before the main entrance.

Edward cleared his throat. "Lady Grey… may I present your household staff."

Eleanor shot Edward a sharp glance as the staff curtsied and bowed before her. She forced herself to smile and walk past them as if inspecting them. One older woman, handed her the household keys with a warm and respectful smile and a deep curtsey. Eleanor managed a small smile and then returned to stand quietly beside Edward whose face was carefully non-committal. Phillip however, was trying and failing to contain his amusement at her obvious unease.

Edward lifted his hand to her and took hers, bowing slightly, he led her into the house. "I have had a light meal prepared so that you might break your fast from the journey."

"Excellent!" said Phillip.

"Was the crossing calm?" Edward continued.

As Eleanor found herself seated at a linen-clothed table covered with fine china and silver plate, she was silent. The two men joked back and forth… their language drifting into Latin and Greek at times as well as Italian and French. The servants were evidently familiar with their master's use of languages and did not seem to give it another thought.

Listening to the two men… Eleanor discovered they were speaking of nothing important… just small talk between old friends. She on the other hand had nothing to say… at least nothing now… and nothing in front of servants. She continued to hold her tongue while on a tour of the house, but inside… her anger was rising.

After several hours, and a late supper after dark had fallen… the servants retired for the night and the three immortals settled in a wood-paneled library before a roaring fire. Edward poured brandy.

"So what's the game this time?" Phillip asked.

"I've learned of something in the royal treasury… something that belonged to a friend of mine… something I need to get out of there." Edward stood formally before the fire.

"Then steal it," Eleanor spat out. "Why involve us? How is this the game?"

"Ahh…" Edward took a sip of his brandy and looked at her over the rim of the glass. "I cannot do it alone… and I thought it might be interesting to see who comes up with the best plan for getting it."

"What are we stealing?" Phillip chuckled. "Something valuable."

"Only to me," Edward said plainly. "It is a minor thing… it will likely never be missed."

"Then I say we have a go at it… ehh Little Sister?"

Eleanor sipped her brandy and eyed Edward suspiciously. "Why the pretense when we arrived?" she finally asked.

Edward shifted uncomfortably. "I thought Phillip explained." He glanced at his Greek friend.

Phillip chortled into his brandy, "Must have slipped my mind." He downed his drink and bid them goodnight… obviously eager to make an exit.

They let him go. For several moments they were silent. Finally Eleanor spoke up. "What exactly is my role in this little farce you have created."

Edward turned to face the fire. Quietly… so quietly she barely heard him, "You are Lady Ellen Grey… my wife."

Eleanor counted to ten… and then rose and crossed the room to stand beside him. When he turned to face her, she tossed the brandy into his face. "I… am not your wife." Slamming the glass down onto a nearby table she turned to leave.

Edward grabbed her arm. Eleanor twisted to be free and then backed away… her hand on her dirk. "You should not presume on our relationship Edward. It is one thing to be on familiar terms with one another occasionally… it is quite another to assume that a greater relationship still exists."

She turned to leave, surprised when he grabbed at her again. This time she could not twist free. He slammed her against the wall and bent to kiss her… urgently… as if it were important. His hands traveled lightly over her form pulling at the edges of her clothes. His desire for her evident in his urgency… the manners of Lord Grey not apparent in his touch.

Eleanor grasped her dirke and plunged it into his stomach. Startled he backed away. "I did not agree to this." she spat at him as he held one hand over his healing wound, grimacing in pain. "I say when and I say how." Turning… Eleanor left him and climbed the stairs to the room she'd been shown earlier.

Behind her in the library Edward roared and she could hear the crash of furniture and the shattering of glass. Finally all was silent.

Methos was as angry at her and as he was angry at himself for letting her get to him. Why… even after all these years did he still want Aella in his life. For the last one hundred and twenty-two years while he'd been in the Orient… every face he'd seen… every woman who'd smiled at him… every laugh he'd heard had been her! She had haunted him in a way no woman ever had.

When he'd let her go when she'd first become immortal, he'd thought often of Aella and wondered how she was doing… if she survived. But it was not until after finding her once more in the Black Forest, and then sending her to Paris… that thoughts of her had begun to torment him. He'd started to travel east and then had backtracked… hanging on the edges of Paris to keep an eye on her… eventually leaving and heading south… into Italy and then Africa. On the return swing through Europe in 1280 he'd noted Aella was still in Paris… as was Darius. He'd suggested a wake… and she'd come with him to Greece to meet Phillip. But after the wake… she'd moved on… west, he thought… west. In Greece she had stared at ruins and old scrolls… obsessed with finding something she couldn't describe, running her hands over carvings as if they would reveal themselves to her by her very touch. It was the first time he'd seen this behavior in her… and he wondered at it.

While he'd hoped she'd stay with him or travel with him… he'd let her go once more and gone on to another life, feeling as always that for immortals… once a century to spend time with friends was more than enough. There were still many new things to learn in the world… and knowledge was becoming a rare and precious commodity once again. Teachers and learned men were again held in high regard. Learning was gradually becoming the province of the monasteries and the church no longer. He'd passed through Paris on his way to the Orient… surprised to find her there once more. Evidently his plan to entice Darius out of Paris with her was not working. He'd argued with the priest about the foolishness of remaining in Paris much longer and in allowing Aella to remain there as well. It was an argument they were to have several times over the centuries… and each time, Darius would smile that mysterious smile of his, the one so like the Ancient One who'd been one of Methos' teachers long ago, and murmur only that he had his reasons. As for Eleanor… she came and went of her own accord.

Methos had urged Aella to travel with him.

"I've only just returned here myself. I've just begun a life… Next time," and she blew him a kiss. Her laughter so like tinkling bells had followed him during the intervening years, but when he'd finally returned… it was to a pale and somber Aella… who had no spark and no joy left in her… and no time for him. She worked as a mid-wife to the poor, unceasingly attempting to bring fresh life into a world that seemed dreary and gray.

"The plague was very bad here in Europe," Phillip had tried to explain. "I don't think she'd ever seen the like of it before." So they had conspired to get her here… out of Paris… out of France… and back into some semblance of her mortal life. But Aella evidently didn't take to being manipulated. Methos straightened thinking, Damn Darius for not coming! Surely if he'd come… things would have been better… and he and Phillip might have convinced both of them to move on with their lives.

His side healed, Methos climbed the stairs to his bedroom and undressed. Standing near the window and gazing out at the moonlight, he'd felt her quiet approach in the hall and gentle knock for admittance.

"Come," he said harshly and continued to watch the clouds blow across the moonlit sky.

She, too, was in her nightdress… a pale white ghost in the shadows of the darkened room. "Your side?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Methos continued to gaze out the window. "I only wanted you to know how I felt. I would never force you to do anything. I'd die first." He turned then to stare at her.

"I know that… it's just… I don't want to ever be put in a position where I have to stop you… I don't want us ever to feel like we have to kill one another."

"I just thought this would be easiest. As man and wife… we can gain admittance to court functions and spy out the lay of the land… as it were… and the best way to make our assault on the collection." He hoped he sounded even-voiced. He didn't want her to know how much he wanted her here.

"Edward…" her voice trailed away. After a long moment she began again. "I am your friend. I am here because you ask me to be here… but you must never assume I will… be with you… If I do… I do it because I choose to, not because of some vow we made centuries ago. I do not appreciate being maneuvered into a situation where I am expected to be your wife. Understand… I cannot stay with you. Once this is over… I will leave."

Methos sighed and nodded.

"Promise me… when I say I have to go… you will not stop me… Whether I stay or whether I go must always be my choice."

"I promise," he said sadly and then smiled as she came close and stood on tip-toe to kiss him… softly… teasingly.

"Now then… whose room do we use," she said.

He'd laughed and swept her up into his arms kissing her gently and carrying her to the high four poster bed so that he could show her how much he loved her.

After they'd stolen the crystal… after Phillip had left… after she'd held it and seen some horror within it that had terrified her… Aella had remained with him for only one hundred days. Then Lady Ellen Gray had fallen ill and died.

Lord Gray buried his wife in the family vault located on the estate grounds. That evening… he'd met her outside the vault with men's traveling clothes and her weapons.

"I'll go with you," he offered.

"No, you promised to let me go. Edward, someday I may stay… but that day is not now… I must go… and you must stay." She'd kissed him one last time… and then vanished into the night.

Her words rang in his soul. My choice! It must always be my choice!

Scotland

Methos curled into Eleanor's lap, clasping his arms about her tiny waist. "I'm so sorry… I would have died before hurting you… I would have let you kill me. I'm so sorry…"

Eleanor stroked his hair and pursed her brow. Odd he doesn't recall the other time? But then… neither did she… at least not clearly. She'd been surprised it was the memory of that time so long ago that they had shared… and not the more recent one… the one she could not clearly remember. She leaned down to kiss him.

"I didn't know who you were then… I only knew that you'd warned me never to trust you… that one day… we might have to face death at one another's hands and I didn't want to chance it. I know who you are now… I chose you… Not just the you that exists today… but all of you. There is nothing in either of our pasts that can change that choice… not ever… not now."

Methos met her gaze with a weak smile. "How can you bear to look at me after what I just did?"

Eleanor smiled and trailed her fingers along his neck. "Because you are the other half of my soul… and darkness and light are both needed… or we are incomplete." She bent to kiss him as his hand touched her own neck and the unity flared.

They were one… and together they could banish the darkness. Gently he pulled her down onto the hay. "Let me erase the memory of what I did… Let me try…" he whispered hoarsely, and she surrendered willingly to his touch.

Later, he carried her into the farmhouse wrapped in a horse blanket, as her torn clothes were insufficient against the cold. An oil lamp burned in the main room. Thankfully there was no sign of Derrick. Methos carried his wife to their bed… and lay beside her grateful that she had neither turned him away… nor left him alone in his madness.

Two days later, the local constable happened by to ask if they'd seen strangers in the past week. "No," said Methos. "Why? What's happened?"

"Three decapitated bodies were found about five miles north of here. Looked like there was a firestorm of some sort about one of them. Wanted you folks, and others in the area to be on the lookout for strangers and be careful."

"We will be," said Eleanor with a smile. "We will be," and she leaned into her husband's protecting embrace.