Stalking the Darkness
by Aislynn
Fandom: Highlander (The Series)
See Part one (Prologue) for disclaimers and warnings!
Additional warning: SLASH (D / M), don't read it if you don't like it!
Thanks go to my beta reader Randy, who did wonders on polishing this chapter. All remaining errors are my own. :)
Chapter 1: Meeting Strangers
Hybert saw his target stiffen and look around uncomfortably. Not willing to give himself away, he merged deeper into the shadow of the small entrance and stood completely still, not even breathing. The other man hesitated and scanned his surroundings. Then, at last, he shrugged and went on. Hybert waited long enough for his target to turn away again, then he stepped out of the entrance and glided to the next spot of concealing shadows. Silently, like a part of the darkness he hid in, he followed the object of his interest, never coming closer, never giving the man the chance to slip away. He had done this for hours now, following this stranger criss-cross through the streets of Paris, and he felt his Hunger rising. Time to decide, then. What should he do with this man? Feeding, or finding another target?
Suddenly the man stiffened again, stopping, straightening, his dark head rising. Again he looked warily around, scanning the dark alley. Hybert froze and melted back into the shadows. Had he been discovered? But the stranger was not looking at him. Slowly, very carefully, Hybert lowered his barriers, searching for the powerful spirit of the other man. Yes, there it was: the unbelievable extent of this spirit, the sheer overwhelming weight of his mind. The fierce, sparkling energy, so much more powerful than the feel of the average mortals. Like the other one on this party, in a way; save that other one had held nothing of the power and the weight of spirit this man had. Carefully Hybert dropped his barriers further, skillfully avoiding the direct touch of the other man's mind. He had no idea if this odd stranger was a mage or a psychic or even a more alien inhabitant of the world. But he would not risk being exposed if the man turned out to be a telepath.
Ah, there! Now he felt it. There was another being close, with that same feeling of fierce, sparkling energy. Only that new mind didn't hold so much power. Then he gasped. No! There! It was not only one man with this energy, who was approaching; there were two. And the second one just now stepped out of the shadows, blocking the way for Hybert's quarry out of the alley.
Carefully, Hybert slipped closer, curious about he outcome of this strange meeting of not only two, but three people he had no idea where to place.
o o O o o
Methos was busy counting all of MacLeod's many fatal character flaws when he felt the presence. He looked up. There! A man stepped out of the shadows of the alley, directly in front of him. Oh, Damn! Just what he needed today! And he was too close to the other man, already, to just turn and vanish. His angry mood and his distraction about this last fight had managed to overcome his normal wariness. He had not paid attention where he was going in the last few hours. As it was, he might well pay for it now with his head.
Warily, he stopped and looked around, hand on the hilt of his sword. The approaching man looked younger than him, body with more bulk and a bit taller. Hard to estimate his age. There was something very odd about his signature, just as if...
Methos cursed silently under his breath. Another one! There was not just one other Immortal, there were two. The second stayed hidden. He was definitely in deep shit this time!
Carefully he watched the other man coming closer. Half on his way, the man drew his sword. Methos had his hand at his own, ready to draw, but refused for the moment to do so.
The man stopped a few steps in front of him and started to speak.
"Well, well, well. Marcel Geraldy, at your service. Now, Mister - who are you?"
Methos sighed.
"Somebody who really would prefer not to do this," he said. His muscles, however, tightened, ready for instant action.
The other man laughed, a barking, ugly sound. "I'll bet!" he said. "Sorry, buddy, but no choice. I'm going to have your head."
Methos shot a fast look around, checking for escape routes. There were none. He was in the middle of a narrow, deserted alley, barely lit by streetlights, with too much space between them. All the entrances to the houses on both sides seemed closed. The back mouth of the alley was way too far away to merit an attempt to run. And in these damn European towns there never were any fire escapes when you needed them...
Trying to appear nervous, he swallowed and took a step back.
"Look, can't we talk about this? I really am not in the mood for a fight, tonight..."
The other man grinned. His grin broadened when another man suddenly stepped out of the shadows behind Methos, and blocked his escape route.
"Surprise!" he said. "Sorry, buddy, but no luck. I am in the mood!" He nodded to the man at Methos' back. "By the way, may I introduce my friend to you? Phillip is my student. He is new at this, but he is very eager to learn!"
Methos eyes narrowed, and he straightened up. He schooled his features into a mask of rage.
At the same time, his left hand crept into the pocket of his coat, reaching for his gun. And closed around...
Nothing.
Darn! Methos cursed under his breath. MacLeod had talked him into leaving the gun behind tonight, due to the evening's entertainment. It would do no good to shock the checkroom clerks at Lefebre's party, or so he had argued. Damn, damn, damn! So he was going to lose his head after five thousand years because this stupid Scottish child had to attend a bloody antique dealer's party, and he had to choose just this evening to accompany him. He would have laughed at the irony, if he hadn't been this outraged about it.
He took another step back and drew his sword.
"Now this is a new one. Two on one? Somehow I must have missed this page of the rulebook!" he said acidly. "Is it a new invention of yours or just your style?"
Geraldy laughed again.
"Why, this is one-on-one - at least for now! Phillip here is just encouraging your will to fight, not run, aren't you, Phil?"
Methos carefully turned his back to one of the sides of the alley, keeping both men in his sight. He held his sword awkwardly over his left shoulder.
"I suppose," he asked, "there's no way to talk you two guys out of this? Like we go somewhere to a nice bar and I buy you a drink?"
The man in front of him stepped closer, raising his sword to strike. His face showed his arrogance and his disdain for the coward in front of him. "Forget it!" he scoffed, and lunged.
o o O o o
His first thrust was parried, as was the next. His opponent danced back, obviously unhappy and awkward. He swung his sword as if he hadn't much training using it.
Not a strong enemy! Geraldy grinned to himself. This would be an easy kill. He wouldn't even need Phillip's help, then. But it would be safer to take no risks...
Slowly, he drove his opponent back in Phil's direction.
o o O o o
Hybert crept silently closer. He was behind his target, about forty steps from the entrance of the alley and only fifteen steps from the other two men. But if the fight was going any further in his direction, they would cross him and leave him behind. It looked exactly like this would be the outcome. Obviously, the attacker wanted to trap his opponent between himself and his partner... Enthralled, Hybert watched the fight enfolding before him. He had taken a sudden breath when he saw his target for this night draw a sword, too. Both of them had these antique weapons? And what about those "rules" his object of interest had mentioned? What were these two?
With professional curiosity, he watched he fight. He wasn't a very good sword fighter, but he could see what the attacked man was doing. He played. His moves were far too studied and far too obviously awkward for a man keeping a sword hidden in his coat in this modern world. As unskilled as his moves seemed, he took care to keep his back close to the wall, and somehow he stayed always out of reach of his enemy's strokes. The man was playing with his opponent, studying his moves, reading his every movement. Trying to figure out how to avoid being trapped between his two attackers.
It was a dangerous game, though; if he waited too long, he might indeed end up caught between them...
All instincts at the ready, Hybert waited for the deception to end.
o o O o o
Marcel Geraldy drove his opponent back with aggressive, powerful strokes. Ten steps... fifteen... twenty... he grinned. His opponent practically flew from him, unthinking of the fact that in his back waited another enemy. He seemed clumsy, awkward with the sword, barely managing to parry the thrusts and lunging at him. Then, suddenly, he slipped on the wet plaster and went down to his knees. Geraldy seized the opportunity. Trying for the opening, he brought his sword down in a heavy blow, aimed to tear his opponent apart. But somehow, at the last moment, the arc was stopped by the other man, who had managed to bring his sword up between them, just inches away from his body. Driven forward by his own thrust, Geraldy lost his balance and stumbled. Trying to regain a secure stand he staggered slightly to the side. At the same moment, he felt a hit in his left side, followed by a numb, wet sensation. Holy Shit! He knew that feeling; he had been stabbed. A blade! Holy Mother of Christ, the bastard had a blade, a second blade, hidden on his body! So much for being an easy target!
Geraldy reacted on pure instinct and launched a vicious kick at the other man, sending him backwards and flat to the ground. However, he could not push his advantage, because with catlike grace and fast as quicksilver, his opponent rolled and got back on his feet. Geraldy got a look into his adversary's eyes, just for an instant, and swallowed. There was no hesitation in those eyes, no more uncertainty and not a trace of fear. Only death. His death!
Suddenly paling, Geraldy knew fear, and was fighting for his very life.
o o O o o
Methos got up again, sword at the ready. He cursed, silently and with venom. This last maneuver had been in vain, and worse, it had cost him his second blade. Gods above and below! Now he had only his heavy broadsword left, and no more advantages. He couldn't afford a second mistake, or he might never again leave this alley! His acute senses told him that the other Immortal, Geraldy's student, had gotten closer. He could not afford to be caught between these two, either!
Oh, well. No more deception and fooling around, then. It was time to end this, once and for all, and as fast as possible!
o o O o o
Geraldy's eyes grew wide with fear as his opponent started to fight him in earnest. Suddenly he found himself at the disadvantage, fighting desperately for his very life. There was nothing awkward or clumsy now in the movements of his enemy; all his moves were deadly and as graceful as running water. The man moved around like quicksilver, elegant, sure and unbelievable fast. All of Geraldy's thrusts were parried easily and with a sureness that was as disturbing as it was effective. Geraldy took two severe wounds before he ever knew what had happened. Suddenly he felt as if he was a mere clumsy child, and with a sinking feeling he realized that he was losing. With an angry cry, more out of fear and desperation than rage, he attacked and drove the other man back. He relied on pure instinct, tried to call up everything he had ever learned. Time! He needed time! If he could just manage to stall the end of this fight until his student closed up to him... Another thrust, and another. Move, dammit!!! Time! He just needed TIME!!!
o o O o o
Methos heard a startled cry from the alley behind him, followed by rapid steps. Damnit! Phillip! The little student, Geraldy's ace up the sleeve, running to his master's rescue! Methos cursed. He sensed the second Immortal at his back, but could do nothing about it. Geraldy was better than it had first seemed, managing to hold his stance just long enough to allow his partner to close the distance. Fighting with the bravery of desperation, the arrogant child - Methos estimated him to be well into his second century, perhaps even entering the third - just barely managed to hold him at bay, in spite of the grievous wounds the man had already taken. Methos tried to force the man around, between him and the student, to prevent becoming sandwiched between them. But Geraldy thwarted this attempt, kicking a trashcan into his way, and drove him back.
Grinding his teeth, Methos realized that he might well be about to die here. If he could not manage to take out Geraldy first, that was. Launching a fierce attack, Methos concentrated on getting through the defense of the enemy in front, ignoring for the moment the one at his back.
o o O o o
Hybert watched with fascination as the man he had followed dropped his pretense. It was a thrilling fight. The poor stupid attacker was about to lose, and he knew it. He never had a chance... or wouldn't have, if he had been alone. All too soon, Hybert heard he running steps from the mouth of the ally and the startled cry of the third man, who realized his friend was losing. He saw how his object of interest tried to get around the enemy in front of him and was thwarted. And then the third man was close enough. He raised his blade, all the while his target lunged and landed another blow to the body of his outmatched opponent. Hybert decided to act. He would be damned if he was about to let this stupid little killer thwart his opportunity to learn more about this strange modern warrior with the powerful mind, who had sparked his interest!
o o O o o
Methos felt his blade connect with Geraldy's flesh while his senses sang out with the warning of immortal presence in his back. Still, he could not make out where, exactly, his second opponent was. He started to turn and move to the left, to get them both in front of him, when suddenly he heard a loud call:
"Watch out! Behind!"
He reacted instinctively and jumped to the side. He more felt than saw the stroke of the sword that just barely missed him. The enemy in front of him wasted no time and used the advantage the distraction gave him. He lunged, and his sword connected. Methos took a sword strike to the ribs. He managed to turn slightly in just the last moment, so the strike glanced off his ribcage and didn't pierce his lungs.
At least, he had both enemies in front of him now, encumbering each other. Methos tried to gain the safety of a wall in his back, but he had to avoid another stroke of Geraldy and lost sight of he other man. His enemy's feral grin warned him that the second attacker was right behind him, but he could do nothing about it. The grin suddenly froze, and the eyes of his opponent grew wide. At the same moment Methos heard a soft noise behind him like metal connecting with flesh, and a choked intake of breath. He didn't bother to look but landed a hard blow with the pommel of his sword to his enemy's collarbone and a vicious kick to his groin. The man stumbled back, and Methos took a step to the side to bring distance between himself and his two enemies. He risked a short look to his left and saw the second attacker staring in shock at the dagger that suddenly protuded from his chest. Just in this moment there was a thumping noise, and a second dagger staked the throat of the man, who managed a gurgling noise, then fell, his sword dropping out of suddenly lifeless fingers.
Methos looked up into the direction where the dagger had come from and saw a tall, blond man in fighting stance, graceful like a cat, standing some twenty steps away. He had a third knife at the ready, eyes narrowed, ready to throw. Their eyes met.
It took only a heartbeat, then Methos saw his first attacker lunging for him again in a powerful stroke, meant to cut him in two. Too late to parry. Instincts took over and Methos evaded the stroke with a turn of his body, then moved on, turning around in a full move like a dancer and decapitated his enemy with the same backhand move he had used to take out Silas. Geraldy never learned he had been killed, or what hit him. The connection of sword and body nearly dislocated Methos' right shoulder, and he was driven on by the momentum as his opponent's head fell. He barely managed to stop, regaining his balance, and watched the headless body collapse. He locked eyes with the third man, who had saved him, taking in his shocked expression; and only then it dawned on him what he just had done.
"Oh, shit!" was his only comment before the Quickening took him.
o o O o o
TBC