Out of the Cell, 16 October 2053

Methos didn't bother getting up when he felt an immortal approaching. His food was due to arrive. But he got up in a hurry when a man's muffled voice told him: "Back away from the door." No one had talked to him directly before. Methos retreated a step. "Up against the far wall," the man said.

Those bloody surveillance cameras. Methos backed up until his shoulder blades were touching the padded wall. The door swung open, and lo and behold, Cassandra, supreme bitch of the universe, was standing there, and two of her minions were close behind. Each of them was carrying a stungun. He took a good look, memorizing the faces of his jailors for future reference.

One was tall and slender, probably from Africa, judging from the dark skin and facial scars. The shorter one had a round face and epicanthic folds at his eyes but wavy black hair. Maybe a mix of Chinese and Malay? Or possibly Hawaiian. Or anywhere, really. Immortals didn't always blend in. Cassandra's fair skin, green eyes, and tawny hair had stood out in sharp contrast to the dark skin and black hair of her people, like that Van Gogh painting with one white iris in a field of blue. He'd picked her out for the taking even before he'd realized she would be an immortal.

Now, she was standing with hands behind her back and feet slightly apart, her green eyes wide and lovely, expression calm and composed, a silken fall of that tawny hair almost touching her shoulders. Methos was surprised to see her and, he had to admit, a bit hurt. He really hadn't thought Cassandra would do this to him. Not for so long. He was also seriously irked. "Have I 'learned my lesson well', Cassandra?" Methos asked, taking a step forward in spite of the guns. "Is that why you've finally deigned to visit me here? Or did you just come to gloat?"

She didn't even answer, just rolled her eyes a bit and turned away. No, not turned away, turned around. She wasn't going anywhere, just showing him her back. That's when Methos noticed the belt binding her wrists together.

Which meant those two immortals were not minions, but guards. Probably. This could be a ploy, but he decided it was best to play it straight. "Ah," Methos said slowly as she turned around to face him again. "Sorry," he said, earnest and humble, both because he was and because he needed her on his side. "My mistake."

"Yes," she agreed, in a voice that could have desiccated a jellyfish, though she looked more exasperated than angry. Maybe even a touch amused.

"So," he said, starting over. He hoped. "It's good to see you." Worrisome, too. Was she another of their prisoners? If so, why? Cassandra didn't take heads. Were they hauling in all Immortals for questioning, one by one? "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I do hope you're not my new roommate." He looked around the small empty space. "Make that my new cellmate. Did they capture you recently?" That might explain why the Tribunal had revived him just now.

"Duncan and I weren't captured; we've been looking for you."

"Really?" An unstoppable grin bubbled up from within, mingling relief and joy with surprise and a grim appreciation of the inherent irony. "Are you here to rescue me, Cassandra?"

She understood the humor, even if she did fight the smile. "Just repaying the favor."

"Enough flirting," ordered the dark guard, sounding bored. "Tell him."

Cassandra got serious again. "Duncan is being held as surety for your good behavior—and mine—while you're being escorted from this cell."

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. With all the care—and personal risk—Methos had taken not to name names, Duncan and Cassandra were exactly where he didn't want them to be: in the hands of the Tribunal.

"If you come along quietly," she continued, "they'll let Duncan go. If you escape, or try to, he takes your place. If anyone is hurt or killed because of your actions, or mine, they'll kill him. He agreed to that."

Commitment didn't get more serious. Methos immediately dropped the half-dozen different escape scenarios he'd been considering. He'd come up with others later. Better ones, he hoped. "I'll come quietly," Methos promised, and when the short guard held up a pair of handcuffs, Methos gritted his teeth but turned around and let himself be manacled. The cuffs were lightweight, but the metal was cold and the edges uncomfortable.

Then he and Cassandra were marched down a long cavern, where yellow bulbs on the ceiling lit their way with golden pools of light. His bare feet trod over sandy grit and cold stone, and scraped on rough concrete patches here and there. He could smell mold and taste the dust of rocks. Gods, it was good to be alive!

"Tunji. Shonglin." Cassandra's voice echoed oddly in the cave. "I need to explain the situation to Coulsen. It will save time."

"Yes," Tunji agreed at the same time as Chonglin said: "You should talk." Their voices also sounded odd.

Cassandra smiled cheerfully at Methos. "Any questions?"

For one: how the hell did that Voice-witchery work anyway? Methos settled for: "Where is this cave?"

"Armenia," Cassandra replied.

Land of lovely mountains and luscious apricots. He'd had a wife and a family in Armenia once, back in the days of the Roman Empire, before Christianity arrived. He'd come here with Byron, too, about two centuries ago, so that Byron could finally master the language he'd studied in Venice before he'd died. "Have you met the Tribunal?" Methos asked Cassandra.

"Five of them so far, including Tunji," she nodded at the tall guard, "and Chonglin." She smiled at the shorter fellow.

Methos looked behind, nodded politely as he matched faces to names, and said hello. They didn't say hello back, but Chonglin nodded in return. Their guns stayed steady.

"Also," she went on brightly, "I joined the Tribunal today."

"I see." He didn't, not clearly enough. "So, am I to infer from this that the Tribunal is not ravening harpies out for my blood, or that they are?"

"Not," she said, sharp as a newly honed blade. "Duncan and Karla and I were being recruited by them."

"Interesting." That changed the situation quite a bit. Perhaps the Tribunal could be reasonable after all. "Who's Karla?"

"A friend of Duncan's. Early life as a Celtic warrior, shield maiden after that. Currently the preceptress at Haven, which is a nearby school for new immortals."

"Seems like everyone's getting organized these days," Methos commented. The Tribunal, this Haven school, Ceirdwyn's place for youngsters, Cassandra's many projects…

"Strength in numbers," Cassandra said placidly. "As for the rest of the tribunal: Tribune Urushan also teaches at Haven, and Tribune Reagan is another friend of Duncan's. Those two are waiting for us in a meeting room. Tribune Sofie, a student at Haven, is escorting a witness in. Any idea who that might be?"

"Serena," Methos answered. He hoped. "She's a friend."

Cassandra looked at him sidelong. "Duncan is a friend."

The unspoken questions were very loud. "I was hoping," Methos explained, "to keep Duncan out of the Tribunal's hands. And you, too," he added, which definitely seemed to please Cassandra and also happened to be true. Too bad his efforts had been for naught. The gallant idiot had gone and handed himself over to them, and now Cassandra was being marched along at gunpoint, as was he.

All right, what did that leave? Five people on the Tribunal, and five people on his side, as long as he included Serena and Karla, though he wasn't sure what those two could do, or would do, and Duncan and Cassandra and he himself were all bound. Still, Cassandra had the Voice, and that was good. But if she were to be a witness, she should know. "They can tell somehow," Methos warned, "if you're lying or not. There's a blue light—"

"It's a truth stone," she informed him. "Urushan showed it to us today."

She didn't seem either curious or incredulous, so Methos suspected she'd seen one before. However, judging by the displeased click from the guard Tunji, at least one member of the Tribunal was not in agreement with Urushan. That was good to know.

Methos wanted to ask who had swords and guns, but talking about weapons in front of guards was never a good idea, ensorcelled though they might be. "What's the situation?" Methos asked Cassandra.

"Not good, but better now."

Infinitely better. He was alive, he was out of the damn cell, and Duncan (and Cassandra) had come to rescue him and even brought a friend, and Serena would soon arrive. Methos started to whistle.

The Evaluation

Duncan was surprised, but not shocked, when the witness turned out to be Kate. She'd been Methos's lover several times in the last fifteen hundred years. But why had Methos named only her as a witness? He could have named Duncan. Or Amanda or Elena or even Connor. Perhaps Methos had wanted someone who had known him a long time. Or perhaps Methos didn't want to get Duncan involved. Too bad.

Kate's hair was brown now, quite short and curly, and she was wearing utilitarian boots and a sleek beige jumpsuit that fit her snugly in all the right places. "Good afternoon, Kate," Duncan greeted her cheerfully, ignoring his uncomfortable position and his status as prisoner du jour. "How was Ganymede?"

"Utterly amazing! And so beautiful, with Jupiter hanging in the sky, and all the other moons, and the sun looking more like a star…" She was starry-eyed with enthusiasm, until she shook herself and came back down to earth. "And so much to learn. That's why the mission was extended so long." She tilted her head to see his bonds more clearly. "Sofie tells me you've offered yourself as surety for Philippe's behavior?"

"I wanted to see him, and they wouldn't bring him here otherwise." Duncan shrugged as best he could with his hands tied. "It won't be much longer."

Kate nodded dubiously then exchanged friendly greetings with Reagan; obviously they had met before. When Kate looked at the other two people in the room, Sofie stepped forward to perform introductions. "Kate, this is Karla Morgan, the preceptress at the Haven school. And this is Urushan; he's a teacher there."

Kate bowed to each of them in turn. "Thank you for providing a school for Sofie, and the others. We can't always teach them as long as we would like." Sofie ducked her head, looking like an embarrassed teenager.

Duncan wanted to ask Kate what she thought about this tribunal business, and if she'd realized what Sofie had gotten up to, but another wave of dizziness shuddered through him when four immortals arrived. Cassandra and Methos were first, walking side by side, each with hands behind their back, like a pair of children with something to hide. Chonglin and Tunji followed close behind. Methos was barefoot and dressed in gray pajamas… prison garb. He seemed thinner, and the pallor of his face was accentuated by dark stubble and tousled hair.

But his golden-brown eyes were bright as he took in the other immortals, the room with its chairs around the table, the cache of weapons, and Duncan tied to a chair. Then he looked straight at Duncan and smiled, the ends of his lips quirking upward, deepening the grooves from nose to chin, but no mockery or irony or amusement this time. Just delight, and a sense of coming home.

"He's here and well behaved," Duncan heard Cassandra say to someone. "Untie us."

Reagan answered, "After he's secured."

Methos didn't resist when he was led to the empty chair at the end of the table or when Reagan began strapping Methos's handcuffs behind his back to the chair. "Thanks for looking me up, MacLeod," Methos said.

He sound as casual as if Duncan had just stopped by while he happened to be in the same town, so Duncan tried to match the bantering tone by answering: "You were late."

"I was…detained," Methos replied.

Duncan watched as Methos focused on each of the Tribunal in turn, as if to imprint each face in memory. Urushan met Methos's gaze calmly, Reagan ignored him, and Sofie tried to seem cool and unimpressed but failed. When Methos looked at Karla, Duncan hastened to say, "Karla's a friend." Methos bowed, leaving Duncan to wonder how Methos managed to make even a seated, manacled bow look elegant. Karla's answering nod was equally graceful.

Then Methos turned to Kate, and his smile returned. "Serena."

She didn't smile back, just stayed serious and intent. "Philippe."

As soon as Reagan straightened from securing Methos's ankles to the chair, Cassandra called Chonglin by name and asked politely to be untied, though Duncan's trained ear heard her words for what they truly were: a command. Chonglin unlashed her wrists, while Reagan untied Duncan. As soon as he was free, he stood and went to get his weapons and gear. Cassandra had already picked up hers, though her stun gun had been hidden away. But fighting wasn't a reasonable option, not in this small room with this many people, not with Methos still bound. They would have to use persuasion and guile. And maybe the Voice again.

"Are you warm enough?" Duncan asked Methos, for those prison pajamas couldn't give much protection against the damp chill of the underground air.

"It is a bit nippy," Methos admitted in classic understatement. Duncan took off his jacket, only to be intercepted by Reagan, who took it from him, emptied all the pockets, then put it around Methos's shoulders. Methos shifted, snuggling deeper and inhaling the scent, before saying, "Thanks" in a way that warmed Duncan all the way through.

Cassandra, meanwhile, had taken a blanket and a pillow off a bunk bed. She knelt, placing the pillow between Methos's bare feet and the cold floor, then tucked the blanket on top, as efficient and brisk as any nurse might be. She stood and started to turn away, but Methos called softly, "Ki-e-nida." Duncan had no idea what it meant, but it made Cassandra turn back to Methos, and they stood there looking at each other, until she blinked back tears and nodded, and Methos swallowed hard then turned his face away.

Kate, like everyone else in the room, was watching the little drama. But when she looked at Cassandra, her expression went from curious to puzzled to surprised. "Deoreve?" Kate called.

Another word that Duncan didn't know, but once again Cassandra responded, looking at Kate intently and then saying, "Orlath?" in wonder and delight. The greeting that followed would have looked at home on any soap opera: full of hugs and laughter and exclamations that were nearly squeals. Methos was watching the two women with a subdued yet speculative gleam in his eye, and Duncan wondered if he was imagining bedroom possibilities, perhaps including Amanda as well.

Finally, Kate (a.k.a. Serena a.k.a. Orlath) turned to everyone else and explained, "We haven't seen each other for quite a while."

"When and where was that?" Sofie asked, either too young to know immortal etiquette or too interested to care.

"Northern Ireland," Cassandra replied, and after a nod of assent from Kate, Cassandra added, "About sixteen hundred years ago."

Back when the kingdom of Dal Riata held sway. Kate had told Duncan of her birth in that land, not so far from his own. He hadn't known that Cassandra had been there, too.

"We should begin," Tunji announced. Methos, already at the foot of the table, was immediately flanked by Reagan and Urushan, acting as guards. Karla claimed the chair at the head of the table, and everyone else found a seat. Duncan ended up between Tunji and Chonglin, and the three of them were facing Sofie, Kate, and Cassandra across the table.

"Point of order," Duncan said, raising his hand. "Who's in charge?"

"I am presiding today," Tunji said. He had a stack of paper and a pen in front of him.

"You take turns?"

"Some of us do. Other prefer not to preside." He looked around the room at the attentive faces, nodded once, then began. "On the fifteenth day of October in the year twenty-fifty-three, the tribunal consists of these five: Tunji, Isadora Reagan Cole, Sofia Yildirim, Chonglin Lee, and Urushan of the House of Mehnuni. Witnesses are Kate Cavanaugh, Duncan MacLeod, and Cassandra. The truth stone is available, and any may call for its use at any time. We are met to evaluate one James Coulsen, also known as Kyle Winston, Philippe Jarbeau, and many other names."

"Another point of order," Methos interjected, rather loudly since he could not raise a hand. "What right have you five to evaluate me? I've never agreed to your authority."

"Neither have I," Karla said. She was sprawled in her chair, one arm hooked over the back, one leg propped up, with the lazy deadly grace of a waiting cat.

"I never agreed to the Game," Sofie shot back. "I never agreed that Duncan got to be sheriff, either, but the first thing he ever told me was to 'follow the rules'. I don't hunt, but I'll do what it takes to defend myself against a maniac who wants to chop off my head, and I'll help my friends do the same. I said it then and I'll say it now: Fuck those rules. Fuck the Game. We're not playing."

"Oh, brava," said Methos enthusiastically, and when Sofie and everyone else turned to look at him in surprise, he added, "I'd clap if I could."

"You're making fun of me," she accused.

"Not at all," he said, sounding utterly sincere. "That was well spoken. And you make a good point. After all, why should a good guy risk his life to take out a bad guy, when good guys can band together and protect themselves and their family and friends? That is the purpose of this Tribunal, correct?"

"Correct," Chonglin agreed stoutly.

"Tell me," Methos began, "how many Immortals has this Tribunal actually killed?"

"Three," Tunji replied.

"And how many have you 'evaluated'?"

"You are the fifth."

"We're usually very careful about who we pick up," Reagan said.

It sounded half like an explanation and half like an apology, and Methos nodded understandingly and smiled at her. "I'm sure."

"Before you organized into this Tribunal," Cassandra asked the group, "did some of you act alone to eliminate evil immortals by killing them outside the rules of the Game?"

"I never have," Urushan said, and Tunji shook his head.

"I did," Sofie said. "I shot the bastard who killed my cat and then I took his head."

"I did much the same." Chonglin's face was impassive, his voice cold. "I was not even thirty years old, an immortal only a year, and I knew nothing. This man, who told me he had fought with Genghis Khan, started stalking me and saying he was going to cut off my head, but he never told me why. I ran him over with a car, took his sword, and I cut off his head. Later, I met Sofie, and she told me of the Game and its rules."

"Chonglin and I helped two other who were being hunted," Sofie said. "And we've talked to others online."

"All of you are the shooters," Duncan realized. No wonder he hadn't been able to find a common thread or style. They'd been coming from all over.

"We never hunt this way," Chonglin said earnestly. "We only protect ourselves and our friends."

"We got neater after we organized into the Tribunal five years ago," Sofie said. "We don't leave bodies behind anymore."

"Who's 'we'?" Duncan asked, pouncing on this opportunity to find out more. "Who were the organizers?"

"Chonglin and I had already been working together, and when we told Kate she said it was too haphazard, so we figured out rules and picked a name."

"Kate?" Duncan repeated in disbelief, and she looked back at him with serene eyes. He'd been thinking she was here as witness, not tribune. Certainly not the mastermind behind it all.

"Jove's balls," Methos swore, and Duncan couldn't tell if it was disgust or admiration in his tone. Maybe both. "You are such an engineer, Serena. You always have to go and fix things."

"The Game needs fixing," she replied. "It's inherently unfair to new immortals."

"It's like sending a Little Leaguer to the World Series," Chonglin added, though judging from Tunji and Sofie's expressions, the baseball sports reference hadn't helped.

Methos was shaking his head. "You can't stop the Game."

"Who said we wanted to?" Kate retorted. "We're just trying to level the playing field."

"You people don't want to be groundskeepers," Methos snapped, finally showing anger instead of charm. "You've appointed yourself umpires with the power to chop off heads. How dare you kidnap me, interrogate me, and kill me, then leave me dead for eighteen months, only to wake me up and put me on trial for my life?"

Sofie jumped into the discussion with youthful—and foolish—abandon. "The kidnapping was by mistake, the questioning was to find out more about you, and we only killed you because we needed the waiting room for Mandeep Kapur."

Duncan was glad to hear the Tribunal had only the one jail cell.

"We were going to wake you up as soon as Kate got back," Sofie went on. "It was only supposed to be a few weeks, but then the mission return date was delayed, and then delayed some more, and then another few months, and since you were already dead, well…" Sofie shrugged helplessly.

Duncan knew how that went: people had good intentions to take care of a problem soon, and somehow days turned into weeks, then months, then years.

Methos had been looking at Kate with deceptive mildness ever since Sofie had mentioned waiting for Kate's return. "I've been locked up—dead—waiting for you?" Methos asked Kate. "Why ?"

"Since I knew you, I was asked to testify," Kate replied. "There was information stored in my safety deposit box, and I was the only one who could retrieve it then give it to the Tribunal. I never expected to be gone so long," she said to Methos. "I'm sorry. Anyway, what do a few months matter, Philippe? You're immortal."

"You made me miss the launch, Serena."

"Oh." She looked abashed. "I didn't realize."

"And," Methos informed her tersely, "I had plans."

"While his friends," Duncan added with equal irritation, "were worried."

Kate opened her mouth, then looked back and forth between the two of them, and shut it again. "I'm sorry," she said finally, and she sounded like she meant it this time.

Duncan was about to drive his point home, but Methos shook his head slightly, so Duncan let it go. This wasn't a good time to argue with Kate. They needed her as a friendly witness.

Karla asked the next question: "How did the Tribunal come to be located here?"

"Two years ago," Urushan said, "I offered the Tribunal the use of the truth stone and this location, so that we could deliberate and be certain, instead of taking heads in the field." He looked at his hands. "Some decisions should not be made hastily."

"Very true," Cassandra agreed.

"This one certainly hasn't been," Methos said dryly.

"Then clearly, if there are no more questions," Tunji said with elaborate courtesy, "we should start the evaluation now. I call for the truth stone," he announced, and Urushan took it from the box and fastened it around Methos's head. Tunji turned to Methos. "Earlier, you asked about the purpose of this Tribunal. Has it been explained to your satisfaction?"

"Yes. And I will acknowledge the authority of this tribunal, but only if Karla is in charge."

"You can't be serious!" Duncan protested in shock, even though the light had stayed blue.

"These are good people, MacLeod," Methos said reassuringly. "I'm sure they'll make the right decision and let me go." The light stayed blue without even a flicker, though the eyes of the tribunes flickered as they looked at each other and at him. Karla had straightened in her chair, looking down the length of the table at Methos, saying nothing. Methos held her gaze as he repeated, "Karla must be in charge."

"I accept," she said, before any of the tribunes had more than opened their mouths.

"You are not a tribune," Tunji objected.

"Precisely," Methos agreed. "She's not one of you, and she doesn't know me. She's impartial. Fair and trustworthy."

"I trust her," Sofie said.

"So do I," Duncan agreed.

"And I." Urushan's deep voice hung in the air, and Chonglin and Cassandra both agreed. Kate shrugged, and Reagan and Tunji looked at each other then nodded. Tunji turned to Karla and waited, ostentatiously letting the silence grow.

"Tunji," Karla said, "please present the evidence, as you were about to do."

He rustled his papers and picked up his pen. "Mr. Coulsen was brought here solely because he was mistaken for another immortal. There are no current offenses for us to review. However, because of certain aspects of his testimony it was decided, by majority vote, to hold him for further investigation. Unfortunately, as we have heard, that delay lasted long than expected." He swiveled his chair to reach the keyboard behind him, and the keys made tiny clicking sounds. He turned back around to say, "Here is his testimony, in his own words."

The lights dimmed and an image of Methos appeared on the wall behind the actual Methos. Blue light played on the image's face. He answered questions about his past with an artful distillation of truth, until the last question came: "Do you like to kill?"

"No," the image-Methos said, and the light of truth in the image disappeared.

Duncan looked at the expressions flickering across the faces of the tribunes: wary, concerned, intrigued, disgusted… Cassandra and Karla showed nothing but grave attention, and Kate was staring at the table. The Methos sitting at the table was looking young and appealing, and his hair had somehow fallen partly over his right eye.

The image-Methos explained himself earnestly and ended with: "I have changed." Then the display disappeared and the lights in the room brightened again.

"As you can see," Tunji said, "Mr. Coulsen sincerely believes he has changed, and we hope this is true. As far as we could tell from the names he gave us, he has shown no tendencies to violence during the last fifty years. We also accessed this database." The display now showed text in old-fashioned typing underneath the circular logo of the Watcher Organization.

Duncan hadn't thought to see that again, certainly not here."Is this the information you had in your safety deposit box, Kate?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" Karla asked before Duncan could ask Kate anything more.

"It's a database that was found in an estate sale about thirty years ago," Chonglin explained. "My friend's father was a collector of antique media; a computer storage disc was in a box with old books. The disc had biographies of Immortals, lots of us, going back millennia." A new page showed a table of contents with a sample list of immortals, neatly alphabetized from Bellion, Everett to Browning, Charles (cf. 'of York'). "They always thought it was just a joke, but as soon as I saw it, I bought it from him. Its records only go up to 1995."

Duncan remembered that year. Kalas had killed the Watcher Don Salzer, and in revenge Christine Salzer had threatened to hand over computer files to the media, exposing the secrets of immortality and quickenings and the Game. Duncan had thought all those computer discs had been destroyed. Obviously, he'd been wrong.

"As you might expect," Tunji said, "the disc prompted more investigation. The Watchers, the mortal organization that wrote all those biographies, fell apart about forty years ago, apparently due to hostile action from some immortals who'd found out about them."

"Good," Karla muttered, and others—including Cassandra, who'd been one of those hostile immortals—nodded in agreement.

"However," Tunji continued, "we occasionally discover more of their work. Such as this."

A new page appeared, all text, with "Methos" and "Four Horsemen" highlighted in yellow.

Duncan stifled a curse, hoping that Kate's information was strong enough to counteract this. Methos closed his eyes with a look of long-suffering exasperation, while Cassandra looked up with a small, tight smile. Duncan didn't think she wanted to see Methos dead anymore, but payback was a bitch, and sometimes Cassandra was, too.

"This report," Tunji was saying, "is dated February 1997. It says that an immortal named Methos was a member of a band of immortals raiders that terrorized people for a thousand years or so, back in the Bronze Age. The band was vicious and brutal, as these groups usually are. This 'Methos' is also said to have used the alias of Adam Pierson, who looked like this." And up on the display popped a picture of Methos in his Adam Pierson days, who of course looked just like James Coulsen now.

"Mr. Coulsen?" Tunji prompted. "Is this you?"

"I did use the name Adam Pierson, and yes that's a picture of me."

"And are you Methos?"

"Yes."

Lying wasn't an option, not with the truth stone, but Duncan had still expected reluctance or evasion. Yet Methos hadn't hesitated, and his answer had been firm, even defiant. Perhaps he wanted the Tribunal to think he had nothing to be ashamed of and no reason to hide?

"Are you really the oldest immortal?" Sofie asked, sounding awed.

He shrugged slightly, with a modest smile. "As far as I know."

Tunji glanced her way, and Sofie sank back in her chair. Tunji continued, "Is the report of the mounted raiders true?"

Methos didn't duck this one, either. "Yes." The word was plain and undeniable, damning in its simplicity.

"Would you care to expand upon that?" Tunji asked.

Duncan had already heard the sickening details. Yes, I killed. Yes, I murdered and raped and burned. Yes, I killed hundreds and thousands of people, women and children and men. I killed because I liked it. And I was good at it.

"As I said in my interview," Methos said, somehow evoking the sense of a puppy who was honestly trying its best, "I did evil things, a long time ago. I regret that, but I can't change the past, no matter how much I want to. But I haven't been that person for thousands of years. I have changed."

"How many times?" Kate asked, speaking for the first time since the evidence had started, and Duncan was surprised to hear the challenge in her tone.

"Kate," Sofie cautioned, laying a hand on her teacher's arm, while Tunji said, "Remember: you are here to give testimony, not to ask questions."

"And that starts when?"

Tunji turned to Karla and waited. She looked at Kate for a long moment then said, "Duncan will testify now. Then Kate, then Cassandra."

Tunji reached into the folder, pulled out a sheet of paper, and handed it to Duncan. "Will you wear the truth stone?"

"It's an option?" Duncan asked.

"Yes, though your testimony carries more weight if you do."

"Then I'll wear it." Everyone waited while he read the list of topics they wanted him to cover and Urushan brought over the truth stone. Duncan put it on. It was still warm from being next to Methos's skin, and he took a deep breath before lifting his head. Methos's calm gaze gave Duncan confidence. They could do this.

"My name is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," he began, making eye contact with each of the five tribunes. "I never thought I'd meet the oldest immortal; Methos was a myth.

"But Methos was alive. We met fifty years ago. At first I found him enigmatic, intriguing, fascinating. Then frustrating, sometimes even infuriating. He was always getting me to think, to look at situations in new ways." Duncan gave a few examples from those days. He would have stopped there, but since they'd already brought up the Horsemen, he needed to explain.

"When I found out about his time with the raiders, I was horrified," Duncan admitted. "I told him we couldn't be friends anymore. But, within a few days, I realized he wasn't that person anymore. He hadn't been for a very long time. So, we worked together to stop the immortal raiders." Duncan was not going to use the word Horsemen; it gave people ideas. "I killed two, and Methos killed the last of them." So much for the evil. Now to talk about the good.

"Methos and I have worked together to help people. He's even risked his own life to save the lives of others, both mortals and immortals. He may grumble and claim he's not honorable or brave, but he does the right thing anyway."

Methos lifted his head, a smile flirting with the corners of his mouth and deepening the color of his eyes to amber, and met Duncan's gaze steadily. Duncan had more he wanted to tell Methos, but not in a roomful of strangers. When they got out of this room—and they were going to get out of this room—he would tell Methos things he should have said long ago.

"I've placed my life in his hands, many times. I've placed my trust there, too." Duncan looked straight at Methos to say: "He's my best friend." Then Duncan told the Tribunal: "He's a good man."

"Thank you, Duncan MacLeod," Tunji said. "Are there any questions for him?" No one spoke up, and Tunji handed the paper with its instructions to Kate. Duncan slid the truth stone over to her.

She looked at the stone briefly then pushed her hair out of the way and put it on. "My name now is Kate Cavanaugh. I met Methos in Aurelianum, about fifteen hundred years ago. The city was besieged, so food was scarce, and the enemy was near. Through it all, he was resourceful, fun, often devious, occasionally brave. I admired him and I liked him, quite a lot.

"We met next at Versailles, more than a thousand years later. He was outrageous and decadent and bitingly witty, just as everyone else was, or tried to be. Then about twenty years ago, we met working on the space program. He's creative and thorough, very good at his job, and a highly respected engineer. And he's still fun." She looked down at the paper again then pushed it to one side.

"But you ask me if I trust him." She looked at the five members of the Tribunal and Karla, going around the table. "I have to say no. He fits in with the people around him, whoever they might be. He's a changeling and a chameleon. He changes, all the time."

Many years earlier, Duncan had felt exactly the same way, but he and Methos had gone through a lot together. Kate didn't know Methos very well.

"You ask what he is capable of," Kate continued. "Everything. Cruelty and kindness, murder and rescue, friendship and betrayal."

Everyone was. Duncan remembered Methos telling him (rather impatiently) much the same thing: We all have rage and compassion, love and hate, murder and forgiveness.

"He is dangerous, but that is to be expected," she said dismissively. "He is an immortal. We are all dangerous. But he is dangerous not just with weapons, but with words. He does not respect the truth. He is devious and deceitful. Here, today," Kate pointed out, "he has been charming and ingratiating to each of you in turn. He is trying to get you to like him. He is, in short, manipulating you."

Duncan was relieved to see that only Chonglin seemed surprised by that information.

"It is true that recently, as far as we know, Methos has behaved well," Kate said. "But when—not if, but when—he falls in with brutal people, he will become a murderer again. Because Methos has nothing within him to keep him centered." Kate sounded as calm as if she were reporting on the percentage of aluminum in a sample of steel. "Methos has no moral center, no honor at all."

Where the hell did that come from? Duncan looked first at Kate and then down the table at Methos. Neither of them was showing any expression at all, except for a slight narrowing of Methos's eyes. "What," Methos said to Kate, "did I ever do to you?"

"Nothing." She was still cool and calm, and the light was still blue.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No, not at all." She seemed surprised by the question. "I very much regret that I could not recommend you." And that was true, too.

The last time Duncan had seen Methos and Kate together, she had been laughing as she fed him crème brulee from her own spoon. "What happened, Kate?" Duncan asked. "What's changed?"

"I learned of his past."

Duncan shook his head. "He's not a raider anymore."

"Nor is he an opium eater or a drunkard. Or a gambler or a seducer of women. Yet in the past he has been all of these, because that was what his companions were. When you see honor in him, you are seeing yourself in him, for he is hollow inside." Kate was almost pleading now. "Ask yourself, Duncan: What will he be when you're gone? Who will he be?"

Duncan had once asked Methos similar questions: Who are you really? What game are you playing? Duncan had never learned how or why the Horsemen had ended. Had Methos woken up one morning and decided on his own to leave? Or had he fallen in with a better crowd?

"Who will any of us be?" Cassandra asked. "As the centuries roll over us, we are each transformed, again and again. I am not the person I once was. Neither are you, Orlath."

"Transformed," Kate agreed, "but not completely new. Certain core beliefs are within me still, and will always be: honor, duty, loyalty. Methos has none."

"Is this true, Methos?" Urushan got up to put the truth stone on Methos again. "Do you not have any core beliefs?"

Duncan remembered Methos saying "Survive" a lot. Also: Live, grow stronger, and fight another day. Walk away. Don't judge. Let it go. Let it be. People die; immortals die. I want to live. Accept yourself, the good and the bad.

"I believe in acceptance," Methos said.

Duncan could see that Tunji and Urushan didn't like that answer. Sofie and Chonglin looked confused. Reagan might have been playing poker; her face was that still.

"Is there any deed you would not do?" Tunji asked Methos.

"It's likely I've already done them all," he said wryly. "There are many I would not do again."

Duncan forced himself to relax his hands, so that his nails didn't dig into his palms. Being honest did not require being frank.

"Yes, I've done bad things," Methos admitted once more. "Including sex and drugs and rock-n-roll."

Urushan's mouth twitched at that; Sofie and Reagan smiled a little. Chonglin and Tunji did not smile at all.

Methos got serious again. "Kate's right; I changed. And I'll change again. So will you, most likely. The world changes, and we either change with it, or we die. But it's been more than two thousand years since I rode as a raider, and I've never once gone back to what I was then. I never want to be that man again." He was looking at Cassandra now, that truth utterly clear between them.

"I believe in kindness," Methos said firmly. "And I believe in acceptance, because we all make mistakes. If you can't accept that, both in yourself and in other people, you end up either angry or guilty. Either way, you're bitter and alone, and eventually, you crack and you shatter and you die."

Reagan and Sofie and Chonglin were all listening intently, and Tunji seemed thoughtful. Urushan had leaned back in his chair. Duncan took a breath and tried to relax.

"You talk of kindness," Kate said to Methos. "What of loyalty? What of—?"

"Enough," Karla ordered. "As Tunji said, you are here to give testimony, not to ask questions."

"But—"

"Enough. Do you have further testimony?"

Kate looked mutinous but finally answered, "No."

"Do the tribunes have any questions for Kate? Or for Methos?" When no one answered, Karla nodded to Cassandra, and Urushan gave her the truth stone. She fastened it upon her brow, wearing it as if it were the regalia of a high priestess, and maybe it had been, once upon a time.

"I am Cassandra," she began, in a voice that carried echoes of ancients days and forgotten mysteries. "When I first met Methos, he was riding with those mounted raiders. They slaughtered my tribe and me. That was the first time I died, When I revived, I was his slave."

The other women turned to look at Methos in horrified fascination. The men, fascinated in a different way, kept looking at Cassandra.

"I hated him," Cassandra said simply. "He was arrogant, vicious, and deliberately cruel. I wanted to kill him. Eventually, I escaped.

"When next I saw him, thousands of years later, I still wanted to kill him. But he wasn't the same man he had been. To kill him would have been an act of revenge, not justice. Duncan helped me to see that, and so I walked away."

She leaned forward, serious and intent, the blue truth light somehow making her eyes look gray instead of green. "I know, firsthand, what cruelty Methos is capable of. He is not hollow, for there is a darkness within him.

"Just as there is a darkness within each of us." Cassandra took the time to look at each person at the table, ending with Kate. "Methos knows his darkness," Cassandra continued. "And so he controls it, before it can control him. He will not permit himself to become that raider again. Because of this, I trust him more than I trust any other man. During the last half-century, I have gone to him for advice and comfort several times. I know his kindness, for there is a light within him as well. I think as him as a brother."

Duncan had never expected Cassandra to say anything like that. From Methos's unblinking yet subtly stunned expression, neither had he.

Cassandra finished her testimony by saying simply, yet very compellingly: "I want him to live." And now she was looking at Methos, and he at her. Methos said something softly in a language Duncan didn't recognize, and Cassandra replied with a lift of her head and a smile, accompanied once again by the glint of tears.

Fascinating as that display was, Duncan looked at the other people in the room. Kate was watching Cassandra sadly, as if her old friend had been diagnosed with a terminal disease. Tunji and Reagan both had narrowed eyes, and Chonglin was looking down, his mouth tight. Sofie was looking at other people, from Kate to Cassandra to Methos to Duncan and back to Kate. Urushan was leaning his chin on his hand, his fingers covering his mouth, while Karla, in her role as moderator, had no expression at all.

Duncan never wanted to be a lawyer; he couldn't figure this jury out at all.

Cassandra bowed her head and closed her eyes as she removed the truth stone, then pressed her palms together around it, as if in prayer, and invoked: "Truth has been spoken; let justice now be done."

"Let justice now be done," Urushan and Karla both repeated, and he looked at Karla in surprise.

Karla asked the tribunes: "Is there more evidence? Have you more questions?" Everyone said no, and she looked down the table. "Methos, would you like to say anything more?"

He shook his head, and Karla folded her hands in front of her on the table. "The man before you enjoys the act of killing. This is not unusual for immortals. He admits to evil deeds in times long past, yet says he has committed no such deeds in the last two thousand years. He avers that he has changed, and we have evidence of good behavior these last fifty years. We have two witnesses who vouch for his good character, and one witness who contends he is dangerous because he is amoral. The question before you: Is this man a clear and present threat to mortals or immortals? What says this Tribunal?"

No one spoke until Tunji said, "It is our custom to cast our ballots anonymously, so we do not influence each other."

While Urushan rose and took out a small box from a cupboard, Duncan once again looked around the room. Methos had put on a calm expression, but his mouth was tight was tension. Kate looked irritated, while Karla seemed carved out of stone. Cassandra sat motionless with lowered eyes, and she was too far away to kick to get her attention.

Urushan had finished distributing a marble to each tribune. Then he tilted the box so that everyone could see that the inside was separated into two compartments of equal size. Two holes were drilled into the lid, and two words were stenciled upon the top of the lid: Release and Execute.

Duncan had a grim appreciation for the forthright words. No hiding behind euphemisms.

"We will each approach the box separately to cast our vote," Urushan explained. He set the box in the far corner of the room then turned his back to them and dropped his marble in one of the holes. Tunji waited until Urushan was back in his seat before rising. Chonglin was rolling his marble between his fingers, and Sofie had hers clutched in her hand. Reagan had set hers on the table.

Duncan was really hoping they voted to release. Because if they didn't…

He didn't want to kill anyone, but he was not going to let Methos die. Methos may have agreed to the authority of this trumped up tribunal and Cassandra may have taken their oath, but Duncan sure hadn't. So, how to bust out of here?

Duncan could probably knife Chonglin where he sat and then (maybe) take out Tunji. The man carried himself well. Urushan, Reagan and Kate were all skilled, and Sofie wasn't squeamish anymore about killing. Duncan wasn't sure what Karla would do. If she sat it out, that made the odds two to one. Even if Cassandra used the Voice and if Methos were aggressively lethal with the legs of that chair, their chances weren't good. That stungun would have helped a lot, but it was probably in Reagan's or Tunji's pocket right now.

Reagan got up to vote, and Duncan considered the option of mounting a rescue during the transfer to the execution site. There should be fewer people then. But when would "then" be? And where?

No. It would have to be now. Duncan pushed his chair back from the table to let Chonglin out, then pushed back a bit more to get room to maneuver. Methos saw him and gave the tiniest of nods. Cassandra was finally paying attention, and she pushed her chair back, too. Good. Now Duncan could lift the table and tip it over on top of Kate and Sofie and Urushan without trapping Cassandra. If she could immobilize Sofie and Kate, and if Methos could take out either Urushan and Reagan, they might have a chance.

Though if they did manage to immobilize everyone, either through stunning or killing, they still needed to get the hell away. Would the Tribunal give chase? If they caught up, would they "evaluate" Duncan and Cassandra for aiding and abetting a condemned man?

It didn't matter; they were going to try.

Sofie voted then carried the box to Karla before sitting down. Karla didn't bother with pretentious announcements, like "The Tribunal has voted" or "Let justice now be done." She just turned the box so everyone could see it, and she opened the lid to reveal the distribution of the five marbles inside.

"Damn," Sofie swore.

Continued in "The Measure of a Man"