Kavik MacLeod extended a hand out to the young man on his back on the
mat. Feeling his hand close around hers, she
pulled him to his feet. "You need to remember to block at the same
time that you're attacking," she said.
Sam Guthrie listened to the advice, ignoring the dull throbbing in his behind where he had landed heavily on the floor. Any bruise that formed would disappear soon enough. That was the advantage of Immortality. The disadvantage was that other Immortals would try to kill you in an attempt to win a 'Prize' that no one was sure about in a 'Game' that no one understood. Which was the reason Sam had been on his back with a sword held to his throat.
"You're following through too sharply, it leaves your side vulnerable," continued Kavik. "Try it again."
Sam adjusted his grip on the sword in his hand and parried. Kavik spun
and thrust, catching Sam in the leg with her
katana. Sam felt a flash of pain and the wetness as blood began to
run down his leg. He ignored the injury as best he
could. One of the facts he accepted when Kavik became his teacher was
that she didn't pull any punches, even when they
were training. "No other Immortal is going to be easy on you, so don't
expect me to be." Those were the words she had said
to him on the first day. Sam attempted the move he had tried earlier.
This time, though, when he brought his sword down,
he spun himself out of the way, avoiding the blade that was quickly
making its way to his side.
Kavik smiled. "That's it. Don't give your opponent an opening."
Before Sam could reply to the compliment, a dark skinned man walked into the dojo.
"Kavik, I'll be opening up in about five minutes," he said.
"Okay, thanks Kyle," replied the older Immortal. Kavik turned to Sam, "I guess that's it for today."
Sam nodded and walked over to his bag, pulling out a towel and wiping his face and neck.
Pulling off her T-shirt, Kavik looked at the sweaty and bloody garment
and grimaced. Wrapping her sword and
placing it in her bag, Kavik threw the T-shirt in after it. "This is
much easier at De Salvo's," she commented, "at least there I
can use Mac's shower instead of the communal ones."
Thoughts of De Salvo's dojo led to thoughts of the owner. Kavik had
spoken to Duncan MacLeod only once in the last
four months, the conversation had been strained to say the least. .
.
It had been only two days since Methos had turned up at Kavik's door
and told her of the events in Bordeaux with
Kronos, Duncan and Cassandra. He had stayed the night and been gone
by the next morning. Kavik had a fair idea where
he had gone, but it was obvious that he wanted to be alone. So, Methos
was out there, alone. The problem was, so was
Cassandra. The Immortal had nearly three thousand years of hate and
anger bottled up inside of her, and the only person
left to take it out on was Methos. "You never could bring yourself
to kill her, could you, old friend?" Kavik mused softly.
Methos had been fond of Cassandra, a bit like a favoured pet.
"You should have learnt, Methos," Kavik continued, "if you feed a dog
by hand, then sooner or later it'll turn round and
bite you." Kavik walked to the window of her apartment and looked out
over the river. "I swear, Cassandra," she vowed,
"for all the damage you've caused to Methos and Mac, if I *ever* see
you again, I won't hesitate to separate you from
your pretty little head."
The dark thoughts sweeping through Kavik's mind were interrupted by
the insistent ringing of the telephone. Leaning
over the sofa, Kavik answered it. "MacLeod."
"Kavik," acknowledged the voice on the other end of the line.Kavik sighed
inwardly. She had been expecting this call
since Methos had shown up. "Hello Duncan."
"Did you know?" Duncan's brogue was heavy. "Why didn't you tell me?" The hurt and accusatory tone almost made Kavik
wince.� "Because it's not important."
"*Not important?!*" Duncan yelled. "He was one of the Four Horsemen!"
"Yes, Mac, *was*. Who Methos *was* and who he *is* are two different
people."
"And you can accept what he did?"
"We've *all* done things we're not proud of, Mac. Methos accepted, and
forgave, *your* darkness, can't you do the
There was silence on the other end of the call. Kavik knew she wasn't
exactly playing fair by throwing the results of the
"That wasn't me," Duncan said softly.
"Exactly," agreed Kavik. "The same way that the Methos who rode with
the Horsemen and the Methos who exists
"But he wasn't under the influence of a Dark Quickening," argued Duncan.
"No, he wasn't, but it *was* a dark *time*. Different rules, Mac. Strong
or weak; survive, or die."
"Being strong doesn't mean killing women and children."��
Duncan's voice was hard.
"Do you know why?" Kavik asked abruptly.
"What?"
"Why he rode with Kronos. Did you ask him why? Or did you just judge
him? Do you have *any* idea what prompted
"No," Duncan admitted.
"So you judged him, condemned him, without knowing any of the reasons
that he did what he did." It wasn't a question.
"So why did you stop Cassandra?"
"What?" The question threw Duncan off guard.
"After he killed Silas. Cassandra could have just taken his head, he
was in no shape to fight. Why did you stop her?"
"I... don't know."
"Don't you?" The question held a specific connotation that Duncan didn't
want to think about.
"Cassandra's anger is justifiable. They made her a victim."
"No," Kavik contradicted. "They made her a slave, she made *herself*
a victim."
"What do you mean?"
"Bad things happen, Mac. To everyone. Now we can either accept what
happens and move on, or let it consume and
"You don't know what they did to her, you can't know what it was like."
"I know, Mac. *Everything.*"
Duncan didn't reply. He knew that Kavik and Methos had known each other
for far longer than he had known the old
"Then you know what he was? What he did?"
"And you forgive him?"
Kavik snorted. "Jesus Mac, listen to yourself. It's not my place to
judge him. And it sure as hell isn't yours."
"But -"
"Duncan, have you heard what you're saying? Why do you think he didn't
tell you?"
Kavik's words sent Duncan back to Bordeaux, to the Elysium Church and
a conversation with Methos.� 'Why do you think I didn't tell you?'
The older Immortal had asked. 'I knew how you'd react. What I've done,
you can't forgive. That's not in your nature. Well, you accept it!'
'Accept what? That a friend I trusted with my life slaughtered innocent
people. For what? A few head of cattle? What are you gonna tell me, Methos?
That's how the world was?'
'No, the world was how *we* made it!'
'No!' Duncan had disagreed. 'The world was how you *chose* to make it.'
"How can you accept what he did?" Duncan asked Kavik softly.
"I... don't know if *I* can accept it."
"Then it's your loss."
"After all he's done, you would still defend him."
"Yes."
"I need to think about this."
"Yes, you do, MacLeod." Kavik was unable to keep the disdain out of
her voice. "About a lot of things." Kavik had hung up the phone and walked
into the bathroom. As she splashed cold water on her face, she looked into
the mirror above the sink. She could still hear Duncan's soft Scottish
brogue in her head, 'you can't know what it was like'. "Oh, Highlander,"
Kavik sighed, "you have *no* idea." . . .
"Yeah, Sam, I'm fine. Let's go get cleaned up, okay." Picking up her
bag, Kavik walked into the shower area to get
A quick shower later, the two Immortals were standing outside the dojo.
"Come on, kid," Kavik placed an arm around Sam's shoulders, "I'll buy you
a coffee."
Sam and Kavik walked to a small coffee shop a couple of blocks away
from the dojo. Sitting at a table in the corner of
"Of course," nodded Kavik. "But, not tonight, okay?"
"Oh, ya goin' ta dinner tonight, aren't ya? With Scott, Jean, Betsy
an' Warren?"
"And Remy."
same?"
Duncan's Dark Quickening back in his face. Some months earlier Duncan
had taken the Quickening of a man named
Kol'Tec. Kol'Tec had been a good man who had taken it upon himself
to hunt the Immortals he considered to be evil,
and it had finally pushed him over the edge, the evil overwhelming
the good. Kol'Tec had challenged Duncan and Mac had been forced to kill
his friend. However, Duncan had changed as a result of the Quickening.
He had lost his moral restraints. He had challenged Richie, and would have
taken his head if not for Joe Dawson's interference. Somehow, the Watcher
had managed to fit all the pieces together and surmise that Duncan had
taken a Dark Quickening, something thought to be only a legend. But, since
he had met Methos, Joe had discovered that *nothing* was 'just a legend'.
Working together Joe and Methos managed to track Duncan to Le Havre. The
plan had been to get Duncan to a Holy Spring that Methos knew about, in
the hopes that it could help him overcome the dark influence. Methos had
confronted Duncan in a church after Mac had killed a friend who had been
trying to help him. Knowing that he couldn't take Methos' head on holy
ground, he tried to take something else - his body. One minute, Methos
had been standing trying to reason with MacLeod, and the next he was skidding
along the floor of the church where Duncan had bodily tackled him to the
ground. By the time his shock had worn off, Duncan was sitting astride
his body grinning maliciously at him. It wasn't until Duncan lowered his
head and forcibly kissed Methos, that the older
Immortal had realised what MacLeod meant to do. That which would have
been given freely out of love was about to be viciously taken out of malice.
When Duncan went to grab and bind Methos' hands, Methos brought his knees
up sharply, hitting MacLeod in the back. Using MacLeod's momentary shock
to buck him off, Methos rolled away from Duncan. Methos wasn't quick enough
though and Duncan's hand caught him in the face. Methos felt his lip split
under the force of the punch, and he was too dazed to stop Duncan as punch
after punch was rained down upon him. Methos felt blood fill his mouth,
and he coughed weakly as it ran down his 0throat. The small sound brought
a reprieve as Duncan stopped hitting him. Methos had thought that the end
of the blows would signal the beginning of the rape, but nothing happened.
Methos tried to open his eyes, but one of them was already too swollen
to see out of. What he could see was a blurry vision of Duncan, wearing
a look that was part horror and part satisfaction. The part of the Scotsman
that was still Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, chieftain's son and
honourable warrior, was disgusted and sickened by what he had done. But
the Duncan MacLeod created by the Dark Quickening revelled in the sight
of the battered and bloody body lying before him. Methos had been aware
of Duncan leaving the church. Ignoring the pain that cried out from abused
flesh, Methos had staggered to his feet and followed
Duncan into the cold French air. He had managed to catch the Highlander
and get him to the holy spring, where the influence
of the Dark Quickening had been banished. Methos had never mentioned
the incident in the church and Duncan hadn't
believed that he had told anyone about what happened.� Kavik knew
because, even though Methos' head had known
that Duncan wasn't responsible for what he did under the Dark Quickenings
influence, his heart had still broken at the violent
betrayal. Methos had lived through rape before, but the fact that it
was Duncan who had been about to rape him was what
made the memory so painful. It had been Kavik who had held him and
soothed him as the nightmares of what had happened
ran through his mind. When she had found out exactly *what* had happened
in the church, it had taken every ounce of self
control that Kavik possessed not to grab her sword and go after Duncan.
It had been Methos' soft pleas that made her
realise that it would be futile to kill Duncan. Methos was right, it
*wasn't* Duncan who had tried to rape him, it had been
someone else, someone who no longer existed.
*now* are two different people."
Methos to make the decisions he made?" Kavik's anger was rising. "Did.
You. Ask. Him?"
"There is no excuse for what he did, Kavik."
destroy us."
man. But he had known Kavik almost all of his Immortal life, and she
had never said anything about Methos. Mac
understood the need for Methos to remain a myth. The lure of five thousand
years of power would be too great for many
Immortals and Methos would become too much of a target. But, if Kavik
had known about Methos' past, then why hadn't
she said anything?
"Because he's my friend."
"Kavik? Are ya okay?" Sam's voice brought her out of her memories.
cleaned up, aware that Sam was doing the same.
the shop, Sam looked over at Kavik. "Can we go through some of those
moves again, ah'm still not totally confident."