Chapter Nine

At Le Blues Bar, the music was picking out the moods of the audience. Beth listened with a thoughtful expression that Joe could not read.

He passed her the glass of Vodka that she requested then he asked her, "I saw in your file that you used the name Bethany Wallace for a while. Why did you change it?"

She looked pensive and then answered, "Wallace was my mother's family and she was Scottish. I tried to fit in with her people but after a few years, I left. They wanted more from me than I was able to give."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked while refilling his glass and hers.

She shrugged replying, "You know, get married, have kids and settle down. At that time, I did not know what being immortal really meant. When I found out I was glad I didn't stay."

"Tell me then where did you get your training?" He asked, "Because the fighting skills that kept you alive aren't that easy to learn."

She admitted, "I learned to fight from all kinds of people. When I stayed at a convent the first time, it was for survival. There I met another immortal named Mora who was very kind. Before I met her, I used to fight as someone possessed, instinct took over. With Mora I was able to develop better skills with a sword." She revealed.

"How could you practice sword fighting at a convent?" he asked.

She hesitantly disclosed, "For punishment we would be separated from the others for penance. In seclusion we would practice with sticks." She gave a sly smile and said, "We got in trouble a lot."

Joe continued to push her and jot down notes asking, "What other kinds of relationships did you have?"

Beth took a long slow drink unsure of what he meant. "Besides the friendship I had with Richie? I used visit other villages like the one I grew up in befriending for a while some people living there. Then I would move on."

"Why is that?" asked Joe forgetting to write that part down.

"I was always trying to relive the past." She said, as her eyes looked distant again. "After 200 years you realize you can never go back."

She took another drink to dull the memory. Listening to the song in the background played by the band, she felt a tear spill over and went to brush it away.

Joe caught her hand and said, "Beth, are you ready to bury that past?"

She said quietly, "I'm trying."

"So what's keeping you here?" asked Joe, "You could have left Paris right after you found out the truth. Are you looking for vengeance?"

Feeling the question go straight to her heart she replied, "I wanted a future with Richie." Her eyes held Joe's with evident pain. "I don't know what I want now."

Joe told her gently, "Not all friendship is looked for. Sometimes it comes to you without warning."

She became almost angry saying, "Why open myself up like that? You have no idea what I felt when Richie left and what his death did to me. Even worse that his friend MacLeod killed him."

She swallowed the rest of the vodka letting the fire course through her.

Joe moved the bottle out of her reach and told her, "Duncan MacLeod is an honorable man in a world where most men are not. You can't blame him."

Beth reached past his arm and took the bottle back filling her glass again. Joe put his hand over the rim of the shot glass and said, "That doesn't help," he told her sincerely, "Believe me."

"All right, last one." She said pushing his hand off and downing the drink in one swallow.

"You wonder why I'm angry." Beth looked at Joe until he nodded his head yes. "Do you want me to finish telling you about what they did? How I became an immortal?"

Her gray eyes went distant as she recalled her last day as a mortal.

Near Brighton England, 1785

Early morning snow covered the ground as the weeks before spring was still only a wish a dream that vanished quickly after waking.

Elizabeth pushed her way through the snow path carrying a small bundle. The efforts making her breath come out in big white puffs. Her skin was pink with cold and her hair was coming out of its braids.

She pulled her shawl closer around her shivering frame then turning her thoughts to Ronald once more. He was overdue from Brighton as he visited to trade for food, a necessity in winter.

When Ronald proposed to her Elizabeth was afraid her parents would not approve because he was poor. Nevertheless, he won them over with his sincerity and hard work and had already set money aside for a spring wedding.

Elizabeth was bone tired from helping to deliver a baby last night. She had been in the middle of catching only a few hours sleep before her mother woke her up to take the herbs that were sorted and packaged to the other mid-wife.

Arriving at her destination she knocked on the small wooden door and it opened immediately. The woman standing there looked even more tired and unkempt.

"Here are the herbs you wanted," said Elizabeth handing the bundle to Madera. She started to come in but Madera stopped her.

"Thank you child but Hannah is here to help me this morning. You go back and get some sleep. You have had a rough night too."

Elizabeth nodded and was grateful as she turned back the way she came. Her feet were cold and she looked forward to taking off her shoes to sit near the fire and sleep a little.

Back inside the small house the Windsor family shared Joram her eight-year-old brother was actively cleaning up the kitchen after their mother left to tend a neighbor's child who was sick with the croup. Elizabeth sat down and took off her worn shoes.

Father was outside in his workshop already heating the furnace coals and working the bellows. Jonathan was almost finished with his secret project and wanted to show the Templar elders his sword so they would commission one from him.

Joram looked over to his sister saying, "Bethy you were talking in your sleep last week about something bad and I wanted to ask you about it."

He continued washing dishes while watching her closely.

Elizabeth sat with her bare feet on the little foot stool warming by the fire. Picking up the sewing to be done she told him, "Joram what possibly could I say that would be bad?"

"You kept saying there was fire and that you can't help them." He looked at his older sister with worry on his face.

Elizabeth frowned for a moment and she bent to her sewing as if the neat stitches could bring into order what those words did to her.

She said quietly, "Honest Joram I don't know what it means."

He put down the washing cloth to stand before her insisting, "But mother said to always listen to your dreams Bethy. You must know so tell me. What did you see?" His eyes now showed fear.

Taking a hold of his hand, she shook her head saying, "I can't tell you Joram. It might come true if I speak of it."

His boyish face gave no hint of his giving up. He scowled at her persisting, "If you won't tell me then tell father."

"Father's almost finished with his sword. He has no time to listen to my silly dreams." She pointed out.

"But mother said..." Began Joram but before he could finish a scream was heard coming from outside.

Jumping up Elizabeth was at the door in three steps. Wrenching it open, she had recognized that scream. Joram became frozen in place with fear.

Her best friend was lying on the ground bleeding making the snow red. Six men leading horses were already going house to house setting them on fire and pulling people out to stand in the snow.

Elizabeth went back inside shutting the door and baring it. She grabbed Joram's hand to pull him out the back door. She met father there holding the still red-hot sword in his gloved hand.

"Get into my workshop and hide." He ordered going past them. His face was set with determination.

Jonathan went around the house to the street facing the central square where everyone was gathering. He saw the men stop at the elder's house.

The last house happened to be what they were seeking. One man signaled the others to keep the villagers in place. He held a torch to the wood shingles until it caught fire.

Their rogue leader shouted, "Come out now Simon, I've tracked you down. Your ten years of hiding here is up. I challenge you!"

The six men stood back with their swords up threatening the shivering inhabitants and waited for what was to come. As the house engulfed with fire, four people came stumbling out holding up swords as well. Coughing from smoke, they met their attackers with skill.

Jonathan watched long enough and then his outrage took over. Coming from behind he attacked one of the outlaws and cut him with the sword burning flesh as it went into him.

In Jonathan's blacksmith shed Elizabeth led her brother into the corner of the room and began pushing him into a cubbyhole and sliding a board in front.

"Don't make a sound Joram. I'll come back for you!" She ordered and promised at the same time.

"Where are you going?" He asked in muffled voice.

"I have to find mother. Now be quiet," she ordered.

Looking at the makeshift hiding place, she was still afraid for him but she went out the door closing it tightly.

The outlaw screamed and turned around. His eyes were blood red and he swung his sword at Jonathan's head cutting it from his shoulders. He reached behind trying to dislodge the burning sword from his back. He screamed and fell over into the snow.

Elizabeth went back through the house looking out the window to see if her mother was with the others. She was in time to see her father struck down and beheaded. Covering her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming she could only watch.

The battle between the ten Immortals was terrifying but Elizabeth watched anyway. She never thought Simon and the elders could fight so valiantly.

Simon's strength failed and the rogue instantly beheaded him. The sight made her sick. Without thinking, she went out the front door walking in slow motion towards her father's body.

Thunder split the sky with a terrible sound and seemed to shake the ground. Elizabeth fell on top of the snow covering her ears and looking at the lightening that came from a cloudless sky.

The screams of the villagers matched those of the immortal in quickening. It brought on more beheadings to silence them.

Elizabeth climbed to her numb feet and began to run away towards the forest. Behind her, another quickening started and the flashes seemed to chase her.

Tears ran down her face as she saw in her mind's eye the people slaughtered.

"I can't help them." Her breath came out in gasps turning to sobs. "I can't help them."

She ran until her legs gave out. Falling in the snow, she crawled into a large drift and buried herself as much as possible.

Smoke drifted through the trees to her hiding place and she could smell burning flesh. She prayed, "Please don't let them find Joram."

Elizabeth wanted to fall asleep and turn it all into a bad dream so that when she awoke all would be as it was. Becoming colder by the minute, she then slept the numbing sleep of lost innocence.

When she did awaken, rough hands pulling her out of the snow saying, "Here's one that got away. Who wants her?"

"I want her," said a voice that sounded coarse and unnatural.

Her clothes ripped but Elizabeth was determined not to cry out in fear.

The numbness in her body kept her from feeling most of the painful things they did as they delighted in trying to make her scream out by breaking a few bones and cutting her tender flesh.

She knew this would be over when she died and she prayed for that moment. Before the blade came down and pierced her lung, she thought of her people, parents and Joram.

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