Chapter 3.

They were standing near the car. MacLeod had a full grocery bag on the back seat, but Methos declined both sandwiches and beer, though gratefully accepted the thermos with coffee. His eyes were constantly returning to the path. The emotional state of his friend worried MacLeod; he decided at least to try asking something. They say, talking helps… And then there was a curiosity, which Duncan, much as he tried, couldn't fully suppress.
"Methos, what were you doing in Glanlyn?"
"What do you know?" he asked sharply. He must have remembered, that he hadn't mentioned the name of the place.
"Not much," MacLeod shrugged. "There was a Glanlyn village there, with a sanctuary and Jessica was its priestess. And you came once during the storm. That's all."
Methos finished the coffee, put the thermos on the hood, and looked at the sky… And finally answered.
"Yeah. I lost my way back then, and was truly relieved to find a place, where I could have a roof above my head and leave that crazy weather outside. I didn't intend to, but as a result I stayed there for a long time."
"Because of Jess?"
"No. Because of Delyth," he smiled. Last time MacLeod saw that smile on his face was when Alexa had still been alive. "Jess had several foster children back then, Delyth was the oldest. Lively girl with a sunny smile. Jessa married us before the stone, and, since Delyth didn't want to leave home, we stayed in Glanlyn. Anyway, it was a good place to live in – holy ground, hidden from the big world. They were happy years, Mac, ten or maybe twelve."
"And what happened afterwards?" Duncan asked the question and regretted it immediately. He was sure he wouldn't like the answer.
Indeed, Methos' face closed and he said flatly:
"The Saxon came."
"I'm sorry…"
Methos shrugged.
"Someone always came, MacLeod, someone always came. You should know that by now. Someone always came to burn the temple with all those naïve fools inside. Naïve fools, who believed in inviolability of sacred walls, in protection of their Gods… Someone always came. The Saxon, the Celts, the Germans, the Romans, the Persians… The list is as long as human history, MacLeod, and it hadn't begun with the Horsemen."
MacLeod felt that he must change the subject, but he couldn't invent anything, except another silly question:
"And after that?"
Strangely, it worked. Methos calmed and all vehemence was gone from his voice, when he answered:
"We buried the dead, as close to the stone as we could. The Saxon didn't dare to throw it down or maybe they simply didn't manage to. Gwe… Jess hoped that the stone would protect at least their souls. And after the burial we left Glanlyn. End of the story."
MacLeod was sure that it wasn't the end, that Methos, as usual, was hiding something. But since it wasn't just his secret, Duncan had no right to ask.

____

Of course it wasn't the end of the story, but the rest didn't concern MacLeod at all.

Wales, circa 600 AD

It took them three days. Three days to bury the dead (those killed in the battle and those burned alive within the sanctuary), to catch a couple of horses and to find any trace of that bunch of Saxon bastards. And then… Two Immortals who had nothing to lose and didn't care how many times they would be killed in the process – for vengeance it was more than enough. Of course, Gwenllian wasn't a warrior; but she was an Immortal and apparently had a very good teacher (she'd mentioned the name once or twice, but Methos hadn't recognized it). So in their vengeance raid she wasn't a hindrance to Methos, not at all. And soon the band, which had destroyed Glanlyn, was destroyed itself. Completely.

"That's all, Gwen", he said, sheathing the Ivanhoe. "We've finished here. It's time to leave Britain."
"No, I've not finished here!" her voice was full with passion, her eyes were burning. "Till at least one Saxon dog remains in the Island, I've not finished!"
"Gwenllian, you can't kill all the Saxon in Britain! It's impossible and pointless and it won't bring anyone back."
"But it gives a meaning to life!"
Methos sighed. He knew that illusion, illusion that vengeance could fill the void inside you, that the smell of the blood on your blade will wash away the smell of the blood of your loved ones. It was only an illusion.
"I won't stop!"
Methos looked into her eyes – and to his dismay he recognized the fire in them. If you don't stop in time, the killing for vengeance becomes killing for pleasure. He knew where that leads and how that ends. And he couldn't allow that. He'd just lost his wife, he couldn't lose a friend! He didn't have too many…
"Are you with me?"
"No," he answered firmly. "I'm sorry, Gwen."
Then with an imperceptible and fast movement he extracted his dagger and threw it right to her chest. He won't let another Death be born tonight.

____

Present day

Jessica Stark, who once was Gwenllian of Dyfed, knelt before the Glanlyn stone and leaned forward, touching it with her brow. She hadn't been here since the burial. Actually, she hadn't been anywhere in Wales, only in England a couple of times, and not by her own choice. She couldn't find courage to come here alone – and she had no right to ask Methos to come with her. She already owed him too much.

Wales – France, circa 600 AD

The last thing she remembered clearly was Methos' dagger in her chest. She honestly didn't know how he managed to drag her first from the heart of Britain to the shore and then to the continent. It was the Presence of yet another Immortal which finally made her come to her senses.

She looked around; there was a big Christian church in front of them, and an Immortal Christian monk or priest was standing on the porch. Methos was behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
"Gwellian, this is Father Darius", he said matter-of-factly. "Darius, this is Gwenllian of Dyfed. She is my friend and she needs your help."

Methos left after a few days, but she stayed. To fight with the Darkness inside her, to look for a new meaning of life. And eventually she won, due to Darius' gentle sympathy, help and advice. She took a new name, after Jesse of Judea, her teacher in Immortality, and began a new life, leaving behind Gwenllian of Dyfed.

A couple of centuries later she met Methos again and tried to express her gratitude, but he just shrugged. "I was there once, Gwenll… Jessa. And I'll be damned if I let anyone of my friends fall to the Darkness this way." They remained close friends in the centuries to follow, but after that she never asked him about his past.

____

Present day

The Sun was already low, when they felt Jessica's returning. MacLeod went away to the driver's door, while Methos walked to the path to meet the woman.

"You ok?" he asked gently.
"No. But it had to be done. Honestly, it had to be done centuries ago."
"It's never too late, Jess."
"Methos, you don't really think so. But, anyway, thanks for saying it. Let's go, I'm not ready to spend a night here."
Methos nodded and opened the back door for her, then sat down himself in the front. MacLeod joined him and started the engine.