AN: Thoughts on 2.14, Mardi Gras Beads + Chair, at the end of this chapter, complete with spoilers.
Mac, Bozer and Riley ran through the woods, rather aimlessly.
(Mac could navigate by the stars, but that was only useful when one had an intended destination; they'd just been heading north.)
About half an hour ago, they'd very unfortunately encountered a group of the local lord's men-at-arms. Said lord was not a very noble or reputable fellow, not at all.
That was exemplified by his men, a mob of brutish, rough mercenaries, who were now pursuing them through the woods.
They were younger, lighter and more agile than the men, which was just about the only advantage they had.
Well, that, and Mac's uncanny knack for improvising; a few of their pursuers had been taken out by everything from branches rigged to snap back into them to strategically-placed rocks.
All three teens cursed as they came into a clearing, bordered on three sides by fairly dense woods, and on the fourth side by a wide, fast-moving stream, which Mac quickly assessed as being far too dangerous to cross on foot.
They glanced at each other, and the cogs in Mac's brain kept turning, as idea after idea came into his head, some discarded instantly, some retained and considered for longer.
They had plenty of wood around them, and while Riley wasn't a very skilled witch, never having had any training, she could levitate and move objects reasonably well; maybe they could put together a bridge…
However, before he could open his mouth to share his kernel of an idea, they heard a single set of footsteps, moving fast, before a large man wielding a wicked and sharp-looking sword burst into the clearing, a triumphant and cruel snarl on his face.
Mac grabbed a thick, approximately three-foot-long stick from the ground, giving Bozer and Riley a quick, urgent glance.
'Run!'
It was every bit an order.
Both of them hesitated a moment, before Bozer seized Riley's arm and pulled her away, running, as his best friend had ordered.
For a moment, as they ran, Bozer leading her, Riley wondered how in the world Bozer could leave his best friend, his brother in all but blood, behind, no matter what Mac had said, before she realized that they were doubling back, back to that clearing, and that Bozer was muttering under his breath, annoyed and exasperated and worried and fond all at once, about his best friend's self-sacrificing tendencies, which, as they approached the clearing again, became mutters of what would he do, come on, Bozer, think like Mac does…
As they, hidden by the trees, approached the clearing again, where Mac was, quite admirably, fending off the much larger soldier with his stick, which had been broken in two; he now held half in each hand. It was obvious that Mac was no fighter of any sort, but he was very quick, agile and coordinated, had fast reflexes and was surprisingly strong. His brilliant intellect also seemed to be serving him well; he learned fast and moved strategically, finding every little advantage he could.
However, there was blood trickling down his left arm, where he'd obviously been cut by the man's sword.
Bozer and Riley exchanged a very quick glance, and then Bozer pulled their frying pan from the pack on his back, shrugging off the pack to allow faster and freer movement.
'Riley, can you distract him?'
The girl nodded, concentrating and raising a hand, and a large branch broke off a tree in the middle of the soldier's field of vision, and started waving around.
'What the-'
Mac, adaptive and quick-witted as ever, pushed his advantage, as Bozer ran up behind the soldier and conked him hard on the back of the head with the frying pan.
He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, clearly unconscious, as Bozer stood over him, the frying pan still raised.
'You wanna hurt my best friend, you gotta go through me!'
Mac gave a wry little smile, raising a brow at them as Riley stepped out of the trees.
'I thought I told you to run?'
Riley snorted and crossed her arms.
'Who put you in charge?'
Mac, too, gave a snort and shook his head, a note of fondness in the action, then winced, a hand going to his now very bloody left forearm. Riley and Bozer exchanged another concerned glance, which Mac noticed.
'I'll be fine.' Bozer and Riley both looked very sceptical, and Mac glanced at his arm, then back at them, before sighing and crouching to the ground, unlacing the ties around his neck that held his cloak up and letting it drop to the floor. 'A, we don't have any medical supplies, B, none of us is anywhere near being a healer, and C, we have to keep moving.'
He pulled out his Engineer's knife, as Bozer sighed, shoulders slumping a little in worry, while Riley swallowed hers down and nodded. A moment later, Bozer did the same, and they got to work.
Riley crouched beside the fallen soldier, taking everything from him that could possibly be of use, while Bozer helped Mac to cut a long strip of material from his cloak to bind the wound with.
Overhead, dark storm clouds gathered.
About two hours later, it was pouring rain. The wind had picked up, and the thunderclaps and lightning strikes were getting closer together.
'We need to find shelter!'
Riley brushed her sopping-wet hair out of her face as she shivered. All three of them were soaking wet, despite the makeshift over-cloaks and hats that Mac had improvised for them, using mostly leaves.
The storm was that bad.
And it only seemed to be getting worse.
Besides, Mac was looking very, very pale. Even paler than usual.
The tattered remains of his lower left sleeve and the makeshift bandage were both soaked with blood, and Riley was quite sure, even if Mac would never say it, that the wound hadn't stopped bleeding. It was likely deeper than Mac would admit.
Bozer turned to her, extremely worried, but also clearly feeling extremely helpless.
'Where, Riley? How?'
Mac, meanwhile, was staring at the very poor excuse of a trail in front of them, what looked to be a path worn down by hunters or woodsmen, perhaps, or maybe even deer.
(They were following it solely because it was easier than bashing through the overgrowth and trees.)
He crouched down, and started tearing out clumps of the grass that reached their knees with his right hand, then brushed moss and soil away too, then studied the ground for a moment.
A smile appeared on his face, and he turned back to face Bozer and Riley, gesturing to the ground.
'This is a path!' Bozer and Riley leaned closer to get a better look. Mac had uncovered a couple of worn flagstones, and was now pointing down the severely overgrown path. 'Flagstone paths don't build themselves, and people don't build them to nowhere.' He got up. 'There has to be a building at the end of it.'
'Cage?'
The Queen turned expectantly to the Spymaster's apprentice, turning her back to the image projected above the crystal ball of three teenagers, cold, wet, exhausted and clearly wary, one of them bloodied and pale, creeping through the castle's expansive grounds, clothed oddly in what appeared to be cloaks and hats made of leaves.
As usual, as soon as the trio had stepped through the gates, into the grounds, an intruder alert, not detectable by said intruders, had gone through the castle, and Jack, Matty and Cage had rushed to the Queen's study, while the other castle inhabitants had hid.
While Jack had no magic, all three women in the room did, though to varying degrees. Matty possessed only a little magic, enough to be more talented at discerning truth from lies and reading people's hearts and minds than ordinary people, but could do nothing else. Cage, meanwhile, had enough to move or summon objects, create illusions, conjure fire and the like, and had a special gift for discerning hearts and minds and truths and lies, being even more talented at it than the Queen.
The blonde woman nodded, closed her eyes and concentrated.
'They're scared, but brave…they've experienced a lot of tragedy…the girl has magic, but no training…the blonde boy has no magic, but many believe he does…and they're desperate.' Cage opened her eyes, hints of sorrow and sympathy creeping into her nearly-always calm voice. 'They have nowhere else to go and no family save each other.'
All four turned to study the three teenagers in the projected image, who'd since settled themselves into the stable, the girl and the shorter boy sharing a concerned glance behind their friend's back. The blonde was very, very pale and wan and weak, the fabric wrapped around his left forearm saturated with blood.
The three women were evaluative, Matty and Cage's expressions clearly not cold, not without sympathy, the Queen's gaze cooler than theirs, even though Jack could see sympathy and care there, clear as day.
The image of the trio of teens, huddled in the stable, tugged sharply at Jack's heartstrings. He had always been far less cool than the three women, his emotions far less restrained, with a hotter temper and a more open heart.
So, he turned to his Queen, looked insistently and imploringly at her, gesturing to the image of the three youths, barely out of childhood.
'There's a storm outside, they got nowhere to go, and they're just kids, Patty, you gotta let them stay!'
For the tiniest of moments, she just stared at him, as if she was looking right into him, something that had once been disconcerting, but over more than 200 years, he'd grown used to.
They'd had visitors before, including ones who'd stayed for years. Jack had never reacted quite so strongly to any of them.
(He had no idea why. Sure, they were the youngest visitors they'd ever had, at least, the youngest unaccompanied visitors, but there was something else, something he couldn't quite define…)
Then, she nodded, as much warmth as she ever had in her eyes.
'They can stay, for as long as they wish.' She gestured to the image above the crystal ball with a little movement of her head. 'Jack, go welcome our guests.' He nodded immediately, and almost-literally ran out of the room. Cage and Matty both swore that that brought a tiny, fond smile to their Queen's face for a brief second. 'Cage…'
The Queen trailed off, knowing that the young woman knew what her instructions were.
(Jack claimed that it gave him the heebie-jeebies when they did stuff like that.)
Cage nodded, then strode out of the room to alert their healer that she'd have patients soon, and then to the kitchen to prepare hot soup and bread.
Alone in the Queen's study, the two older women, one tall, one very short, simply exchanged a glance, then returned to gazing at the image of the three teens in the stable.
'…Boze, I'll be fine…'
Mac fell silent as he heard footsteps approaching, exchanging a glance with Bozer and Riley.
Hopefully, whatever lord this castle belongs to is kind enough to let us stay, just for the night.
And, more importantly, hopefully the isolation of his place means that he doesn't know we're wanted criminals yet…or might even be sympathetic to us.
The castle gates had opened automatically as they'd approached. The lamps in the stable had all automatically flickered on the instant they'd entered. There was magic in this place. Powerful magic.
After all, there has to be a reason for living in a castle in the woods in the middle of nowhere.
I don't like relying on hope and luck; I prefer to make my own. But now, we don't have a choice.
He got up and reached for an old broom with his right hand, being careful not to jostle his wounded arm. Bozer, meanwhile, took up their frying pan again, while a selection of old horseshoes, stacked on a shelf, rattled slightly, and Riley gave a little nod, her hands moving a little by her sides.
A man entered the stable, aged in his early forties, with short brown hair, dressed in a simple, but well-made, shirt, trousers and cloak. His hands were raised and there was a reassuring smile on his face, his only weapon a dagger at his belt.
Well, his only visible weapon.
He was well-built, obviously strong, and moved like an exceptionally skilled warrior. He surely wouldn't be armed with only a dagger, and his fists were probably an excellent weapon all on their own.
He stared at them for a moment as they all stared back, something flickering across his face that seemed to be an odd mix of approval and sadness.
Then, he waved and grinned.
'Hello, and welcome to our humble abode!' Mac, Bozer and Riley exchanged a glance. This was not what they were expecting. Perhaps this man was insane? 'Sir Jack Dalton, Captain of the Guard, Knight of the Kingdom of Phoenix, and right hand to the lady of this castle!' That was said with a flourish and an exaggerated bow, before Sir Dalton straightened up again and looked more serious, eyes gentling. 'No-one's gonna hurt you, kiddos, you can put the broom and the frying pan down.' Mac and Bozer hesitated, and Sir Dalton continued, putting a hand over his heart. 'I swear, on my honour as a Knight, cross my heart and hope to die.'
With another glance, Mac and Bozer lowered their makeshift weapons, and then Mac spoke.
There was powerful magic in the air. Chances were, lying was useless. Besides, Sir Dalton had sworn on his honour as a Knight.
'Sir Dalton, I'm Angus MacGyver, commonly known as MacGyver, an apprentice blacksmith. These are my friends, Wilt Bozer, known as Bozer, a tailor, and Riley Davis.'
Technically speaking, the only person who could revoke his apprenticeship was Pena, who hadn't before he'd been killed, so technically, Mac was still an apprentice blacksmith.
Sir Dalton grinned at them again.
'Call me Jack, Sir Dalton was my dad. Now come on, MacGyver, Bozer, Riley…' He motioned towards the door of the stable, saw the three of them hesitate. 'What, you weren't thinking of spending the night here, were you? With the weather like this?' He put effort into making that light, with levity, snorting with disbelief and making a pshaw sound, hoping he was being reassuring, even as his heart ached a little more for these three almost-kids. 'Come on, the castle awaits!'
Mac, Bozer and Riley exchanged another glance, hesitating for another moment, before they gathered their meagre possessions, put on their leaf hats and cloaks again, and followed Jack towards the castle.
'…we'll get you to the infirmary first, have you all checked over by our healer, and then we'll see about putting together a late dinner for you and finding you a place to sleep. How's that sound, kiddos?'
Mac, Bozer and Riley followed Jack through the castle, a little wide-eyed (the castle's huge doors had opened automatically as they'd neared, the torches on the walls lit themselves automatically as they walked through the corridors, then put themselves out when they became unnecessary…). Mac replied, since Bozer was muttering about how this was just like those stories he loved to read (and write), and Riley seemed a little lost for words (he supposed he would be too if he had magic; after a whole lifetime of suffering persecution, seeing it used so casually, treated like it was normal by Jack, really had to be something…), and he seemed to have been designated group spokesperson and leader anyway.
'That would be great, Sir…sorry, Jack, thank you.'
The Knight gave a nonchalant shrug that Mac suspected wasn't really nonchalant.
'Eh, just following orders, doing as my lady's wishes and all.' He snorted. 'Besides, if you didn't get dry and warm and fed, and she didn't get to properly look after that cut of yours, our healer would be furious, and trust me, brother, that's really something. You don't wanna get on her bad side.' They got to the end of the corridor, and reached an open door. 'And we're here.' Jack walked in through the door, into what was presumably the infirmary, where they found a petite, pretty, sweet-looking girl, with light brown hair in a neat braid, wearing a simple grey dress and an apron. She couldn't have been any older than fifteen or sixteen. Jack gestured between her, Mac, Bozer and Riley. 'MacGyver, Bozer, Riley, this is our healer, Bethany Taylor.'
This castle is full of surprises.
AN: I maintain that Jack is really a big softy under the whole tough-guy, badass former Delta/CIA agent (or, in this case, Knight of the Realm) stuff! And yes, there's quite a bit of foreshadowing in this chapter…including a little bit of foreshadowing that might seem a lot less obvious…anyone spot it? Hint: the little scene with the fight with the man-at-arms and the stable scene are the relevant scenes…
Thoughts on 2.14, Mardi Gras Beads + Chair: I really enjoyed that episode! I'm glad that Bozer and Leanna's thing came to a head, and that Riley rightly pointed out how stupid an idea it was. As someone who does ship Bozer/Riley (after some apologies on Bozer's part and a proper no-expectations friendship and some time for Riley to sort out her somewhat-complicated feelings about him, a la what is – possibly, anyway; they may have just decided on just-friends, I think – happening in canon), I really liked the way they interacted in that episode – it was very them, I think, with Bozer's silly but genuinely heartfelt lines and Riley giving him no quarter, but deciding to help him in the end. I feel so sorry for Jack, with what happened with Dawn, but oh my…it was funny and it was so going to happen and seriously, Mac, Jack, your weakness for women is going to get you two into really deep trouble one day…