IV - Untitled

The drive towards Victor's home was silent. He was behind the wheel, while Methos and Darla were in the backseat, the former on the left, the latter on the right, both staring through the window. The driver pulled over at the gates of an enormous mansion, then pushed a button and the gate opened. He drove through a path formed by grown trees and pulled up at the door. Silently, the three of them walked in.

Victor showed them into the living room, where two large sofas were in front of a television. She noticed a pile of DVD's (The Simpsons?) on each side of the TV. Behind the TV, there was a set of warring spears of different kinds. Methos sat on one sofa, Victor sat on the other. Darla decided to stay up.

"Nice place." Methos commented, trying to break the cold ice between them.

"The royalties for the book and the interests of the bank made it. My butler keeps it well." Victor pointed below his own eye with a harsh grin. "Nice scar."

"A reminder. Does your butler know?"

"Of course." He looked away. "And how are you?" Victor asked Darla, who remained away from them. She did not reply. "And how are you?" he repeated. She shook her head and headed to a large window to stare outside. He stood up and spoke again, this time angrily. "I'm talking to you, Darla!"

She turned. The trace of tears on each of the sides of her face could be seen, and more tears ran through it. She opened her coat and produced the broadsword she had been bequeathed from him. She pushed a button and the weapon unassembled, the two upper pieces that formed the bulk of the blade clattered against the floor. She tossed the remaining part, the one with the grip.

"I had my reasons to do it." He said coldly, but she was not looking at him.

"And which were those?" She growled, now staring straight into his eyes, darting bitterness at him. Victor maintained his look on her. "And you, Methos. How come Kronos is your... brother? And what is that horsemen charade?"

Methos stood up. He breathed out and spoke.

"Millennia ago, I rode across the world with other three immortals. We killed, we looted, we raped. Four marauders on a horse, bringing chaos to your very doorstep."

"The Horsemen of Apocalypse." Victor grunted, his face revealing he was suddenly startled by something.

"But the Horsemen are a myth! " Darla cried.

"We were not. Kronos was Pestilence. He was our leader. Caspian was the Beasts, and it really suited him. He was a vicious savage. Silas was War. He was not truly evil, merely misled. And I was the mastermind, I was..."

"Death." Darla whispered.

"In time, we parted. We came across each other throughout the centuries. But we never rode again. Kronos gathered new formations but none of them was as us."

"What happened to the other two?"

"Silas is still out there. I reckon he's in Ukraine, or Latvia."

"And... Caspian?" she asked.

"Caspian came across me in France. He had been bothering Darius for a while, so I did our friend a favour." Victor broke in, speaking as if he were proud of having killed someone. Perhaps he was, she thought.

Darla sat down on the sofa where Methos was, her face hidden in her hands. "How did you find us?" She glared at Victor, who did not react, but replied softly.

"I got a phone call. A man, coarse voice, the kind you would hear singing blues or jazz. He said Kronos was around, and I would have the chance to get even with him, and save your pretty little ass as well."

"And how are we going to... what are you doing?"

Methos was speaking when he realised Darla had gone to the window and was looking for something outside. Having found it, she stormed out of the room. Minutes later, she returned dragging an unconscious peroxided blonde with her. The woman was young and slender, and wore a tight navy blue skirt and a black shirt, sensually tight all over her figure. She had quite the image for a short-lasting career as a pop singer. Victor looked at the scene confused, then glanced at Methos, who was holding his head worriedly, an image they did not usually were able to see.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

"This is my Watcher." Darla replied simply.

-----

An hour later, the woman regained consciousness. She noticed Darla and Victor.

"Hello Jimena." Darla said nicely.

The watcher sat up and shook her head.

"What... am I... this is kidnapping!" she moaned.

"Cut the show, Britney." Victor faced her, his face a mask of viciousness. "We know you're a watcher, and we want answers." He eyed her up and down and his tongue slid out over his lips and licked them. "Otherwise, I may have fun with you." She stammered and began to weep. Meanwhile, Darla took the palmtop of her Watcher and began to read the notes that were there.

-----

Darla Hails is the only known apprentice of the Kurgan. I guess she was born around 1960, and her first death occurred near 1980. She was mentioned on a report concerning the death of the immortal Alexander Smith in 1983, a report that was never taken seriously. She is probably the immortal with whom Gabriela Maria Cuadra Saavedra had an affair in 1989, as per Saavedra's watcher, and my own witnessing of their brief meeting in Paris. She appears to be overconfident, but at the same time she strikes as being extremely sensitive. In the few years I have watched her, she's seemed to have a strong attachment with her mentor, though she believed him to be dead. The reasons are a mystery, but probably she is infatuated with him. A crush, a rather foolish feeling for someone her age. I don't know what will come out of this affair with Koren and his men, but I find Hails rather unstable. Too much for my comfort...

----

"You think I'm unstable, Jimena?"

The watcher gazed at her. She saw Darla approach her and fondle her face, staring at her with a sultry face. "Ever took part in a party of four?" Jimena shivered and stared away. Then she noticed Methos and called for him.

"Adam, what are you doing here? Help me!"

Methos approached. He hesitated for a second as to what to say, then finally spoke.

"I am one of them... Pierson is a cover."

Jimena's face darkened again, after having brightened up a bit upon seeing Methos. Despair could see in her face. Being surrounded by who was considered the strongest and evillest immortal ever, his unstable apprentice, and Adam Pierson, who turned out to be an immortal, one that could not be better than the others (otherwise he would not be there in such company), her hopes were none.

"Now we need your help." Darla said, still caressing her, but feigning kindness.

"In what...?"

-----

"Yeah?"

Joe Dawson had checked the number on the cellphone screen and received the call. He hoped it would be the report of Jimena Varela on the affair between Darla Hails and Melvin Koren and his posse. He did not like Hails much. Never had. But he knew Adam Pierson, Methos, was with her, and he did like the man. Even if he had tricked the entire organisation into believing he was a student with a good skill for odd languages, researching about the oldest immortal thought to be living. Himself. That's why Joe had phoned the Kurgan and tipped him on Koren's location. Even if that meant the girl would meet her mentor again. Odd couple. He thought.

"Hello, Dawson." The voice was loud and clear.

"What is it, Darla?" he grunted.

"I have a friend of you here. My watcher. I will return her in exchange of information. And you will bring it to me personally."

He hesitated for a second, knowing the oath he had made to never interfere in immortal affairs would have to be broken once again.

"What is it?"