Methos' Drunken Tales - A Story of Love and Loss -
Chapter 5 - Life Can Be A Nightmare
Author notes – This story was written for enjoyment purposes only and not for profit, and there is no copyright infringement intended on the poems or Highlander.
Sorry about putting the story up on 8/1/12 and then taking it down. But the wrong version was posted. If you read that original version, this is the finished one.
Thank you to all who have read this story, for all who are following it - especially to Ainslee, aliciana, Ditzyninja2249, Dejaeeyore, GhostGal, Irda, It's a lonely world, kendog52361, Kruen, MeliaAlexander, Mrs MalContent, EPJ III, littleflame2003,R.J. Bingham, MeliaAlexander, Procrastination Is My Game Rayven Lilith Sky, and FerretKid my beta and editor. Thank you one and all and anyone else I missed especially everyone who has me as their favorite author.
Recently one of my beta readers went on hiatus due to personal reasons , so if you are interested in Beta reading for me please send me a PM note.
Portrait of a Lady by T. S. Eliot
"You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,
And how, how rare and strange it is, to find
In a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,
To find a friend who has these qualities,
Who has, and gives
Those qualities upon which friendship lives.
How much it means that I say this to you—
Without these friendships — life, what cauchemar*!"
*Cauchemar = nightmare
Methos knew all too well that life alone could be a nightmare, but often found it difficult to trust Immortals, so deep friendships were few and far between. Only after losing two very special friends did he change his attitude and allow himself to be found by Duncan MacLeod. Still, Methos' Immortal friends would never know how much he loved them, how far he would go to protect them, or how much their deaths cost him.
April 23 2012 - Paris France - Club Sanctuary
A shiver ran up Ceirdwyn's back as she jumped, feeling Methos' fingers touch her neck. Everyone thought he was still on the couch, listening to his iPod. The old Immortal had silently slipped across the room to stand next to her, dangling his empty beer mug in one hand.
"Methos! You frightened me half to death." Ceirdwyn was glad to be on holy ground.
"You look alive enough to me. Are you having fun, Ceirdwyn?" Methos gave her a steamy gaze while tightening his grip on the back of her neck.
"Methos, let her go!" MacLeod stood, ready to challenge the other Immortal.
"No reason to get your kilt all in a quiver, MacLeod." Methos let go and tossed his empty mug to Amanda. He widened his eyes in innocence, stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered to the bar, smiling at Amanda as he asked for another beer.
Joe swore he just saw the ghost of Adam Pierson appear before him.
Mac's protective instincts rose, "Methos, leave Ceirdwyn alone, she was just telling us the story. You seemed happy enough to stay over there with your music!"
Leaving his beer behind, Methos stepped back to Ceirdwyn's side, only an arm's reach from the Highlander. "I am tired of this nonsense, the story is mine." Methos gave Ceirdwyn a look and moved closer still, his mouth now at her ear as he whispered to her. "Don't push me, Ceirdwyn, you know what I'm capable of."
Ceirdwyn quickly stepped away from her "old friend" and into the Scott's big arms.
Amanda smirked while filling three new mugs with beer. When finished, she inserted herself in the group, using the beer as an excuse to break the tension.
"I think all of you need a fresh pint. And Mac, don't take our mutual friend too seriously, his bark is bigger than his bite." After handing out her brew Amanda turning to Methos placing her hands gently on his face. "Are we quite finished, or do you want to give Joe more to write about in that silly journal of his?"
"Well played Amanda, you're quite right." Methos reached up and took the old thief's hand in his and together they went to the couch where Methos sprawled out and got comfortable. Amanda smiled at the other woman before she curled up against the old Immortal's side.
Methos shook his head at the former thief and kissed her forehead. "I like your hair better when it's natural, but they do say blonds have more fun."
Amanda punched him on the arm and they both laughed.
Joe was impatient and done with watching the flirting. "I'm an old man and can't sit here all night," he snarled. "Are you going to finish this or not?"
"Yes, quite right. Now where were we? Oh yes, the next morning..." Methos once again began to tell the story. His way.
805 Aquitania du Francia (Southern France)
Ceirdwyn got up early to find an empty bed. Methos had awakened earlier and not wanting to repeat the night's events, had quietly dressed and slipped out of the room. He needed to check on his stallion, since it had been over twenty-four hours since he had last seen his horse.
His majestic beast was dying. Methos knew he shouldn't have ridden Talus so hard and it pained him to kill the once noble steed, but he put the loyal animal out of its pain by stabbing him in the heart and then he paid a groom to dispose of the carcass.
Saying a silent prayer to gods considered long dead, he washed the blood off his hands and knife. When he reentered house, he found Ceirdwyn gone, making it simple to change into the fine clothes she had bought for him.
The morning sun was still climbing in the sky when Methos took a walk in the village. In the market he picked up an apple and tossed the merchant a coin.
All of a sudden, the sound of trumpets filled the air and everyone on the street started scathing, vanishing into hiding. Methos remained in place, sure the approaching troops belonged to the duke. They stopped when they reached him, the only man left on the street.
When his name was demanded of him, Methos provided the name he had told Ceirdwyn, and smiled when the foot soldiers drew their swords. Leaning against the merchant's cart he continued munching his apple, waiting as word was carried down the column.
Moments later a man dressed in lacy finery could be seen riding forward. Methos arranged his face to be pedestrian as possible, as if the next moments were not vitally important to Lydia and himself. He tightly held onto self-control that he had practiced for centuries.
The old Immortal loathed mixing with the ruling class he found them for the most part self-indulgent and vain. The Duke du Cléroy wasn't going to be the first Royal that made his life difficult, but within Methos' mind a plan was forming. He casually took a second apple and began eating it apathetically.
"So, you claim you are "The Brave Knight that Charges Against the Accused?" Did you not notice the streets emptying as we approached?" The Duke used the same a sharp tone he used to cow his subjects.
Methos finished chewing his bite and smiled at the Duke. "Yes I did, your Lordship. Not being one of your citizens, but a visitor, I desired to meet the great Duke du Cléroy."
"Ha! You're a curious man, not showing fear at my approach. What brings you to my city, Sir Knight?"
With a nonchalant voice few dared use in the presence of the duke, Methos answered. "I have come to offer my services to you, Lord Duke. I learned you are to be married soon and thought you might need more knights to protect your fair lady. There are many who do not want you to form an alliance with Duke Lambert du Lutetia."
"I don't know you, why would you do me this kindness, Sir Knight?" The duke remained on his mount, not signaling for his men to lower their weapons.
"I stopped in Lutetia to visit an old friend, the good Father Darius. He was not there but traveling on a religious pilgrimage, so I decided to follow him and it was a good thing I did. I discovered he is actually escorting your bride-to-be on her journey here. Bandits had attacked the caravan, killed the duke's men, and kidnapped the duchess."
"How could this have happened?" The Duke du Cléroy's face turned purple in his anger.
Methos raised his hands with open palms and put a larger smile on his face. "All is well, Lord Duke. The young duchess was rescued before any harm could come to her and she is again safe in her chaperon's care. They will be here soon."
"If this is all true, why did you leave them unprotected?" The Duke glared at Methos.
"Because the dangerous part of the journey has passed and now they are on the Roman roads, traveling through towns and villages loyal to you. Father Darius bid me to come ahead and inform you that others are trying to sabotage your alliance." Methos knew it was a lie, but the story sounded so credible he couldn't help but find it amusing. Unfortunately, Darius wouldn't know to repeat this story. Methos happily realized he had to find Darius' caravan and then he could also see his dear Lydia.
"Where do you hale from Sir Knight? Are you staying at the inn?" The Duke was satisfied enough with Methos' answers, but he desired more information from this stranger.
"I am visiting my old friend, Mistress Ceirdwyn." Methos smiled, took another apple, and bit into it before continuing as if he were not addressing a Duke appointed by the Emperor Constantine. "I was in the employ of Duke Edmond du Austasia, and being pleased with my services, he rewarded me with a title and lands. But, I am a restless man who desires a life of adventure, so I went to Lutetia to see what excitement I could find.
"How do you know Mistress Ceirdwyn?"
"Oh, we are both from Britannia. We played together as children."
"No more talk in this open place. Gossip is all around this city, it grows thick like a fever and must be killed as quickly. It swells even within my ranks." The Duke gave Methos a shrewd look-over trying to judge the type of man who stood before him. "Sir Knight, you will come to the feast at my castle two nights from now and we will talk in a more private setting. Oh, and bring Mistress Ceirdwyn along. You must have a special power over women, for I have never seen her take 'any man's' favors before."
"Mistress Ceirdwyn and I are old friends, nothing more." Methos smiled as he tossed the apple core behind him. "Thank you, Lord Duke, the good lady and I will see you in two nights."
The swords that had been pointed at his neck were dropped at last, and Methos breathed easier as he watched the duke and his men continue on. Now to talk to Ceirdwyn about getting a new horse so I can ride out to Darius.
Feeling slightly ill from eating too many apples so quickly, Methos left the merchant another coin and continued his walk through the town.
After making a few purchases, Methos found Ceirdwyn around lunchtime. The basket on his arm raised her curiosity, until he took her to a secluded meadow and began to lay food out beneath a tree, serving her himself. She couldn't help but laugh even though she knew he wanted a favor.
"Methos, you're being too nice, so I know you want something or you would not have gone to such trouble for me."
"What are you talking about? Haven't I been nice since arriving?" He began his plea while popping a grape into her waiting mouth. "Ceirdwyn, I have little time so I need you to give me a horse. I rode my stallion too hard and had to put the beast out of its misery."
"What a shame, he was a true beauty . Who gave you that black stallion?"
"How did you guess someone gave me the horse?" Methos gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence he had practiced for thousands of years.
"Methos, don't give me that look!"
"What look?" His voice filled with uttermost surprise.
"Like you just were born yesterday! Really! I don't know how old you are, but you're not fooling me. That horse was too pretty to be one you'd pick for yourself. It was from a woman, an Immortal friend. Is that why you won't tell me?" Ceirdwyn tried to look him in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath Methos ducked his head, refusing to meet her gaze. Rebecca had given him the black stallion twelve years ago as a gift for helping when her abbey was under attack by vagabonds who were roaming the county side in quest of plunder.
The problem with marauders is their complete lack of respect for holy ground. Methos taught the rapscallions the value of acquiring some - especially when it came to Rebecca's abbey. He had shunned her attentions at that time, for his heart was still in a cold place mourning the death of his wife. So, Rebecca gave him the stallion instead and Methos promised to return when he was in a better state of mind.
"Fine, Ceirdwyn, you're correct, but I won't tell you who. There's no purpose to talking about when I was with anyone else. The horse was a thank you gift for aid given to a special friend I have known for many years.
"So you have slept with her!"
"Why would you say a thing like that?" Methos answered again this time with real surprise in his voice, he hadn't realized how well Ceirdwyn had gotten to know him. He winced at displeasure of the revelation.
"Methos, you call few friends special."
"It's funny you think I have this type of relationship with other Immortals. My dear friend, I never let anyone disarm me like you have a habit of doing." The old Immortal tried to regain the upper hand not acknowledging Ceirdwyn knew anything personal about him.
"Yes, yes, I am your warrior queen." Ceirdwyn sighed. "Let's see how long that lasts once you have this mortal Lydia with you again."
"I told you when I came what my intentions were. Even if that were not the case, sooner or later the game will slip into our lives. It's not that I don't care for you, Ceirdwyn, but if I'm going to spend a lifetime with someone I would prefer he or she not carry a sword. Good intentions can quickly change among our kind for the price of a head."
She shook her head rapidly. "Methos, I could never take your head." He had successfully changed their discussion, once more his secrets were his own to keep.
"I heard you were speaking with the Duke." Now Ceirdwyn wanted to alter the subject herself, afraid the master thespian been pulling her strings, in full control of the conversation.
Methos smiled and kissed Ceirdwyn's neck, continuing to distract her. "We are going to dine in the castle two nights from now. Today I need to ride out, find Darius and make sure they are still safe."
"You mean if Lydia is safe." Ceirdwyn pouted at him as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Yes, my warrior queen, but I must go over plans with Darius and to make sure the Holy Father will do my biding."
"What if Darius disagrees with you?"
"I'll tell Lydia and Darius will have to agree to keep her safe."
Ceirdwyn pushed Methos to the ground while laughing at him. "You are such a rascal! Just take any one of my horses and go! Did I tell you you're crazy and might lose your head over this?"
"Yes, you mentioned it. I thought you like me being a rascal? Don't worry, everything will work out perfectly." Methos said as he motioned Ceirdwyn closer to help him stand. As she pulled him off the grass, Methos caught Ceirdwyn back in to his arms, and he kissed her deeply once more.
It was true, Ceirdwyn did like Methos being a rascal, but she wanted to keep him as her own rascal and she wasn't happy knowing their time would end. Perhaps she could find a way to sabotage his plans and let this girl know exactly what kind of fraud Methos was. Knowing the truth Lydia would surly reject him. Then, losing his mortal love, Methos would need someone to soothe his heartbreak and stay with her.
She returned his kiss and held him until he broke their embrace.
They packed the basket and walked back to the stable where she watched him saddle and mount a horse. With a last smile he took off to find Darius.
It was the middle of the night when Methos found the caravan. Greeting the guards, who recognized him when he spoke, he instructed them not to wake Darius. Because he had saved the young duchess, they were happy to obey. When he reached Lydia's wagon and asked her servant to leave, she also quickly complied.
Methos sat by Lydia's side, watching her sleep, until his light touch brought her to wakefulness.
"You came back!" She whispered softly while wiping the sleep out of her eyes.
"Yes, beloved, but I can't stay. I wanted to bask in your loveliness for a moment. I have a plan to save you from the Duke." Methos spoke swiftly, his voice raspy from hours of riding.
Lydia tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him with abandon. Remembering their passion in the forest and wanting more, she repeated the kiss several times. Knowing he would lose control if he allowed her to continue, Methos forced himself to push her away, but kept her small face in his hands.
"We must stop or I will ravish you right here in this wagon and that is not how I want to have you," he insisted breathlessly.
"My lord Methos, what do you mean?" Lydia was fishing for the answer she needed to hear.
"I love you, Lydia, and I want to make you my wife, but we have to wait until our wedding to share that passion."
"I love you too." The young woman with silky hair blond stroked his face and looked in his hazel eyes.
"My love, we must be patient, our time is coming." Methos smiled as he held her close and whispered a sonnet he had composed for her. "You are the sun in my morning sky and more precious than the stars at night that guide my way. I will die without your light in my life."
Darius' booming voice interrupted the couple, "Methos behave more properly. I hope you have a modicum of honor in that head of yours, saying love sonnets to a woman who is betrothed! Methos! Get out of the wagon!"
"My love, don't leave me now!" Lydia cried and clung tightly to him.
Stepping up getting into the back of the wagon, Darius attempted to separate the lovers, but found Methos' embrace stronger than expected. "Methos, Lydia, this must stop!"
Reluctantly, Methos unwrapped his arms from Lydia. "Darius is right. I came to tell you the plan I have made, and beg you both to play along. When you get to the city, Lydia, you must pretend you have never met me. For safety's sake the duke must think you are completely chaste and untouched by any man. You must say I am the good Father's friend who helped save you, and you couldn't see me in the dark of night. Darius, you must tell the duke you sent me ahead to warn him of the treachery and to become part of his guard."
"Methos, what are you up to?" Darius asked in a weary tone, unsure of what mischief his old friend was planning next.
"I'm offering my services to the Duke as a knight. It gives me access to him and when the time is right I will kill him."
"Methos, you cannot kill the duke!" Darius yelled back at him. "He was given his office by Emperor Charlemagne himself!"
"He is no blood relation of the old duke; he is not his real son! I won't let him marry Lydia! Once you meet him you will understand!" Methos loudly insisted.
"Father Darius, Methos is going to save me." Lydia smiled not comprehending what was passing between the two Immortals.
"Yes, but Lydia, you do not know Methos as I do," Darius pleaded.
"Perhaps Methos can protect and love me better than others. Please, Darius, listen to him."
"I do love you, Lydia, and I swear on my life to protect you." Methos took her in his arms, pulled her close to him again.
Darius, forced into separating the couple once more, had a pointed question for his friend. "Methos, which life would that be?"
"My true life Darius." Methos returned Darius' glare with a cold stare. "Old friend, you know me well enough to know I do not play games when it involves my life. Trust me now, and everything will work out fine."
"Methos, I have never known you to be such a fool. Bid your lady good-bye and come outside so we may speak alone." With an irritated jerk of his head to indicate the outside and a pinch of his lips aimed at Lydia, Darius backed out of the wagon.
Methos and Lydia shared one last embrace before he left her to join Darius.
"What's so important, Darius?"
Walking out of earshot of the rest of the camp, Darius felt his temper rising in a most un-priestly manner. Shaking his fist at his friend, Darius swung around to face Methos and yelled. "I swear, Methos, you are the only person that brings me to fury! You must tell Lydia you are not the man she thinks you are!"
It reminded Methos of the many arguments he and Emrys had carried on. Sometimes, when Methos was with Darius he could swear he was once again speaking with his old master, but Methos knew better; it was just an echo.
"Darius, she already knows what you are and that in itself is a danger to the Duchess."
"I am not the one talking foolishness to a young girl! With promises of marriage! Have you have already forgotten what happened to your last wife? Methos, I love Lydia like my own daughter, I beg you to change your mind."
"Darius, I will swear to keep her as far from our life of violence and safe as possible and never tell Lydia that I am Immortal or what that means. If Elizabeth hadn't known the truth..."
Methos paused for a moment to work past the lump in his throat and gather his thoughts. Still blaming himself for her death, it was difficult to speak of.
"I will not let someone I love die in my place again. The Immortal came while I was in the fields and she saw his sword and knew why he was there. She tried to give me time to ready for battle by bargaining with him for my life. If I hadn't told her what I am, she might not have died." The old Immortal closed his eyes and gathered unwanted memories to finish the story.
"One hundred years later and I can still see her flowing brown hair turning red with blood. I would have rushed to save her, ignoring all else, but even as she lay dying, she screamed for me to stay away, warning of a trap that had been set for me. Having to watch my brave Elizabeth's...life ebbing out of her... There was nothing I could do to stop her from...dying. By the time I got to her it was too…" Tears rolled down his cheeks and Methos didn't finish the sentence.
Darius put a hand on Methos' shoulder, offering what comfort he could. "I understand your loss..."
Methos' tears stopped and his face turned cold. "You can't understand my loss, Darius. You've never been in love with a woman or married."
Methos was correct. Before the white quickening Darius had loved no one but himself. Grayson came closest, but their relationship was that of master and student. Methos had been one of his teachers, but their relationship was based on mutual respect. Only after taking Emrys' head did Darius understand what unconditional, passionate, real love was. Darius had flinched at Methos' insult but now forced his memories back into the past. Darius compelled his mind to quit wandering so he could listen to a rare experience, one of Methos' true stories.
"After I buried my wife, I burned our house and the crops and I went hunting. I found him easily enough and we fought like all Immortals do. But I didn't take his head, oh no. No, the one true death was too easy for this man."
Methos' mouth formed a frightening buzzard-like smile and he had a strange laugh and that sent chills down Darius' spine.
"Who was the Immortal that killed your wife?" the question made the face of the former Horseman even more feral.
"I never asked. He deserved to have his identity wiped from the face of the earth. So I carried him to a cave where he and I could be alone."
The eyes of Death glittered at Darius in the dark of night. Methos pushed his face close to that of his friend and dropped his voice.
"I kept food and water just out of his reach while he watched me cook and eat my own meals. I broke his bones and then did it again and again as soon as he healed. I cut his flesh off in pieces just to see how long it would take him to bleed to death, and when he revived I watched him burn. I kept this up for a week before he began begging for a permanent death. It was six more days before I let him have that mercy, and my soul still screamed for more blood. Do not tell me you understand my loss, Darius. You have never loved another so passionately. Before you took Emrys' head did you love anyone other than yourself?"
"You know that's not a fair question. Back in the old days we both were different men, but after I took the ancient one's head I became just like him."
"Oh, don't fool yourself Darius. You're not the reincarnation of Emrys' either, as much as others would like to believe." Methos shot back at his friend.
"I am very aware I am not, I know who I am! Methos, consider how you dealt with Elizabeth's death. Even after a hundred years, you're still grieving! I can still see traces of the face of Death in you, it's wrong to bring Lydia into this life!"
"Darius, you do not understand. My past has nothing to do with this current situation! The Duke du Cléroy is one of us, so she is going to part of this life no matter which of us she is with! Wouldn't you rather I watch over her than one of us whose soul is already blackened?"
"Well that's debatable, about who soul is blackened." Darius smiled and joked lightly, attempting to change the mood.
"You're a pain in the ass! Haven't you told me that judgments were the job of a higher power?" Methos returned Darius' small smile, and in a twinkling of time transformed himself back into his happy-go-lucky persona. "I must be on my way, but one more thing. I am staying with an Immortal woman named Ceirdwyn. She is my ally and a special friend. Please trust her, for she will help us."
Darius drew back from Methos, agitation returning to his eyes. "How special? How long have you known her? Do you really think Lydia will understand you speaking of love to her while you sleep with another? I think not!"
"It's not like that! She was a student of Marcus Constantine when we met in 98. We were watching the Christians being fed to the lions and got bored, so we wandered off together for nine or ten years."
"So Constantine is here also?" Darius seemed to forget about Methos' Immortal lover in his concern with this news.
"I have not seen or sensed him. Priest, will you go along with my plan?"
Darius groaned. "I will follow your ridiculous plan, but see that it doesn't get both of us killed. Methos, Marcus Constantine is not my friend. He still blames me personally for destroying Rome and I am off holy ground."
"Darius, I will protect you while you are here. I wish none of my friends to die."
Having been walking towards camp during the last of their talk, the men came into Lydia's view. Jumping out of her wagon, she ran for Methos, but was intercepted by Darius first.
"I have told Methos that when we arrive, you will pretend you do not know him, do you, agree?"
Lydia nodded her head.
Methos stepped around to kiss her one last time before whispering his love in her ear. He shook Darius' hand, mounted his horse, and began his ride back to the city as the first glimmer of sunshine appeared over the hills.
Darius and Lydia stood side by side, watching the new day dawn until Methos could be seen no more.
The Father spotted a goat with a kid and had Lydia chase her down for fresh milk while he pulled bread and cheese out of their supplies. He led the young woman to a quite place where they could talk without fear from prying ears. With his cloak on the ground, he bade her to sit with him for their breakfast.
"Lydia, you must understand Methos is a pretender, and no true knight. It is easy for him to appear brave because he is an Immortal like myself, though he is far older."
Without batting an eye Lydia took in what her mentor said. "Father, you told me you have lived hundreds of years. How old is Methos?"
"I don't know. His very name in old Greek is Mythos, the word for myth or legend. You would be better measuring his life in millenniums than centuries. Lydia, the man you wish to give yourself to is not Christian and has done many terrible things."
"Darius, I don't care what his faith is or what he did in the past, I only feel his love towards me."
"You will be one of thousands to have shared his bed. There is no assurance he can protect you either. He was unable to keep his last wife safe." Darius paused before adding, "She died because of him."
"That is so sad, but it doesn't mean it has to happen to me."
"Child, Methos did not grow up in a world like today. Ordinary men, not just the wealthy, had several wives, kept concubines or saw prostitutes, men even lay with other men. He has indulged in many strange carnal appetites over the centuries." Darius didn't want to hurt Lydia, but hoped shock would wake her up. He didn't need to lie. He and Methos had shared a bed and many women during his time as a warlord.
"I understand why you are telling me this, but explain to me one thing. When Methos was married, does he stray or stay faithful to his wife?"
Darius was surprised that Lydia's questions were so wise, but he had raised the child to use her brain and not to be a fool.
"Once married Methos never strays. He takes his vows seriously, but don't think for one moment he is being true to you now. There is an Immortal woman, Ceirdwyn, he is staying with and they have been lovers before. He burns and I am sure this Ceirdwyn has been more than happy to keep him satisfied while he speaks love to you. Are you prepared to accept that?"
"Maybe you have been a priest too long. This is a world ruled by men and women have few choices. I do not understand the ways of men and Immortal men seem far yet more complicated. I should hate him for sleeping with this Immortal woman now? If Methos had to choose between this Ceirdwyn or me, whom would he choose? I know you will tell me the truth."
"Methos has a fondness for mortals and he will not stay with one of our own kind but a few seasons. Remember this well my girl, he has been a great a multitude of things in his long life, many of which would frighten you. He was once as nightmare to all he came across."
"That is impossible, Darius. He is everything I have ever dreamed of," Lydia sighed.
"Living with him will not be like one of your fairy tales. Methos will always be hunted by our kind, putting you in danger too. You will never have a child, for our kind cannot have children. Worse, you will grow old while will he always be strong, handsome, and young." Darius watched Lydia's unchanging expression carefully. "My child, Methos is very secretive, and if you expect to him to tell you the truth, think again. I have known him for almost 800 years and he would lie to me in an instant if it would get him what he wants."
"I know you, Darius, and I think you were not always a priest, but I don't care what you were before." Lydia smiled at her chaperon.
"Immortals lives are long and complicated, often violent. I wish you had never been exposed to this." Darius turned away from her to collect his thoughts.
"Why? Because you think I am such a child?" Lydia yelled at his back.
"No." Darius turned to face her. "Because I have always cared for you as if you were my own sweet daughter."
He kissed her forehead and wished he could take her far from here. Nevertheless, the die was cast when the Emperor sealed the agreement for her marriage. Darius could not remember a time when his soul was more troubled since before he had taken the ancient one's head.
"Thank you, Darius, but please tell me one more thing. How do Immortals die?"
"Never. It is kept a secret to all but chosen few." Darius' voice was firm.
"I need to know, Holy Father. It must be possible, but how?" Lydia was not going to give up.
Darius closed his eyes. This wasn't information he wanted to pass on, but if Lydia was being forced in to the world of Immortals, this was information she needed to know. He hesitated a moment or two before lowering his voice further answering in an almost a whisper.
"There is only one way and it's why we all carry a sword. By cutting off our heads."
Lydia's eye grew wide. "Methos does this to others?"
"Primarily only in his own self-defense when Immortals hunt him. He gave up taking heads years ago, but he will not stay on holy ground like I do. He prefers to stay in the shadows, live out his lifetimes pretending he is a mortal." Darius was shocked to see awe in Lydia's eyes.
"Father, why does your kind hunt each other?" It was an innocent question with a complicated answer.
"There is a saying among our kind, 'there can be only one,' so most Immortals live to kill each other. The only safe place is holy ground."
"Why, if he is old he must be very powerful, couldn't he win most battles?" she asked.
"Methos is very powerful, intelligent, and wise by a generations of learning. The blood lust that rules many of my kind cooled in his veins centuries ago."
"So he has no wish to kill?"
"I would hardly say that! He killed without a second thought to rescue you. Lydia, try to realize he has been many people. A slave, a gladiator, a murderer, a king, even a god. Once, Methos was even Death personified. A living, breathing nightmare. A killer who raped, murdered, and burned everything in his path for over a thousand years."
Lydia's eyes were wide, as she digested everything her chaperon said. How could one man be all that Darius claimed Methos had been? But her memory was only of Methos' tender words, his gentle touch, and the sweet kisses they shared.
"Darius, what is Methos now?"
The priest wanted to lie, but knew he couldn't. "Methos is a wandering knight, trying to forget his past. His only wish is to survive." Darius ran his hands through his hair silently repeating the mantra Methos had taught him so long ago. Learn, grower stronger, and survive.
"So he is no longer a living nightmare? In the past Methos might have been evil, but now he is good?"
"Methos is a chameleon. He will be what he must be based on his situation. Honestly, Lydia, he doesn't trust anyone enough show his true self. But if you ask me who Methos really is? I could not tell you. He changes like the very wind itself."
"Well, the wind often blows warm this time of year and is a soft and pleasant breeze. Please, good Father, let us do as Methos asked. I believe he has my best interest at heart and truly loves me. Please, can we see if we can play this drama out to a happy conclusion?"
Even Darius could see Lydia was much more wise than her sixteen years; he nodded and kissed her forehead again. He could only hope Methos was telling Lydia the truth, which was difficult to believe since the old Immortal lied so often and was the master of manipulation.
End chapter 5
Chapter 6 - The Banquet - Marcus and Rebecca join in on the game.
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