Methos went from deeply asleep to fully awake in the space between
two heartbeats. It was a skill he'd perfected over the long years. He
did not sense another Immortal so he remained tucked under his
blankets a moment longer while his mind identified the noise:
banging. Someone was banging on his door. With a stick, by the sound
Wearily he sat up and swung his legs around to subject his feet to
the cold floor. He glanced at the clock and saw, with a surge of
irritation, that it was just after 4 am. He'd been asleep for some
time, his date had been, well, just a date, not a hot date.
"Meth- Adam! Adam it's Joe!" More banging. "Adam!!"
Methos' eyes strayed to his sword leaning against the wall. Too bad
it couldn't double as a baseball bat. He abruptly launched himself
from the bed, not bothering with a robe to cover his boxer-clad
"If there isn't a fire," he muttered as he started across the room.
"No, if this building is not on fire," he said, louder this time, as
he passed the chair. "No, if you are not on fire," he snarled as he
jerked open the door.
Joe brushed past him the moment the door was open, talking all the
way. "Methos, we have a big problem. I need to know..." He glanced
back and saw Methos still standing by the open door looking out.
"Methos! Come on, we don't have time to mess around." Joe set the
box down on the bar.
"Won't you come in?" Methos asked the empty air in front of his door,
and then slammed it shut. "Make yourself at home," he said softly, no
humor at all in his eyes.
"We've got a problem. If what I think is true, we don't have much
time," Joe said, his words crowding each other to get out of his
Methos sighed heavily and made an effort to leash his temper. "Joe, I
haven't killed anyone for waking me in the middle of the night in
more than a thousand years, but if you do not make your point
Joe's face registered only irritation. He retrieved the pages about
Kaia and Methos from the box, and brandished them at Methos as if
making an accusation. "Did you know her?"
Methos' hand flashed out and snatched the sheets from Joe. He strode
briskly to the high-backed chair, settled himself into it, and began
485 AD, NORTHWESTERN GAUL
Methos made his way up the hill, deep in thought. He was living in a
small village on the other side of the hill. He'd been moving
steadily west and north ever since the Emperor Constantine moved the
imperial seat east to Byzantium and renamed it Constantinople. Always
one to sense change in the winds, this seemed an omen to Methos, and
the subsequent chaos caused by the "barbarian" invasions proved his
suspicions correct. Now, with rumors of new trouble brewing near the
Rhine and moving west, he was seriously considering moving on to
Britain. Soon, he thought, perhaps after his current student's
training was finished. He didn't mind taking on the occasional
student, but he preferred to travel alone. Neil should be ready to be
on his own in two years, three at the outside. He could afford to
wait that long.
The familiar sensation heralding the approach of another Immortal
swept through his head, and he heard hoofbeats behind him a moment
later. Methos turned and drew his sword in one motion, facing the
approaching rider warily.
A woman, Methos noted with some surprise, as the rider dismounted. He
hadn't met many female Immortals over the years, they didn't seem to
last long. Memories of Cassandra niggled at the edges of his thoughts
for a moment and he swept them away, needing to concentrate on this
female. She approached warily, her sword in her hand, but held in an
unthreatening manner. She was quite lovely, his mind noted, and he
ruthlessly banished that thought as well.
Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "I am traveling, sir, and have
no wish for battle," she said breathlessly, a hesitant smile on her
"Where are you going?" Methos asked, not really interested, merely
trying to prolong the conversation, needing time to assess her as a
"I go to Rome, sir," she answered with wide-eyed enthusiasm. "I've
always wanted to see the Basilica of St. Peter."
Young, his mind reported, picking up the nuance, and foolish, given
the uncertainty there. Still, she was no threat to him, and he did
not kill unnecessarily any longer. Again, disturbing thoughts
threatened to surface, and his eyes narrowed.
"Will you permit me to pass, sir?" she asked, concern clouding her
Methos smiled a little to reassure the girl and shook off the past.
"I will not hinder you. It would be best for you to avoid the village
yonder," he said, gesturing toward the hill. "There is another
Immortal there, my student. And under my protection," he added
Kaia nodded her head. "I will do as you say, sir, and thank you. Go
with God, Methos."
Methos smiled again at that. "And you." This Christian god was
pervasive. He watched as she mounted and rode off, taking a path
which would avoid the village.
The next morning Methos rose reluctantly from his bed. Neil would
already be at their practice field beyond the hill, he knew. Methos
grimaced. Neil was so... eager. Getting intolerant in your old age,
he chided himself, and then laughed at his own absurdity. He strode
out of his hut considerably lighter of heart.
He heard/felt it then, and broke into a run, knowing it was already
too late. A quickening. He reached the top of the hill and stopped,
staring in disbelief at the scene below. Neil lay dead, beheaded, and
his killer hurriedly mounted her horse. Kaia. She looked up at him
for one brief moment, triumph and scorn written clearly on her face,
and then galloped away.
Methos hunted her for months after that. Not trying to avenge his
student, he wouldn't waste his time on that kind of foolishness. But
she'd fooled him right proper, and that he couldn't let pass. The
long, cold nights on the road, and the difficult search were his way
of punishing himself, driving home the lesson.
Finally her trail went cold, and he gave it up. He set off for
Britain and a new life.
Methos' eyes moved from the sheets of faxed material to Joe where he
sat on the couch. "You got me up in the middle of the night to
confirm a 'Methos sighting'?" His voice was incredulous.
"Of course not. Just answer the question, is the report accurate? Did
you meet Kaia?"
"All right, yes, I've met her. What of it?"
"She's in town."
"What? How do you know?"
"Because I saw her at MacLeod's barge last night."
"What the hell is she doing with MacLeod?"
"He has a standing date with her." Joe explained on about their
meetings every fifty years.
"He trusts her?!" Methos nearly shouted, launching himself from the
Joe struggled off of the couch. "Hold on a minute, Methos, there's
Methos stopped abruptly and turned. "What do you mean, 'more'?"
A half hour later found Methos at his desk poring over the
chronicles, with Joe seated nearby. Methos had thrown on a robe to
ward off the chill.
"Do you see? Here. MacLeod meets Benat Mateo, who is a new Immortal,
in Toulouse. October, 1697. Then, the Valentine's Day meeting with
Kaia in Paris, 1698. Kaia then goes directly to Toulouse, finds
Mateo, and kills him."
Methos was skeptical. "Coincidence."
"Once, maybe. But go to the next place I marked. 1747. MacLeod meets
Tibalt Hirsch in Zurich, trains him for a while. Again, he's very
young. MacLeod leaves abruptly, goes to Augsburg, leaving Hirsch
behind for some reason. His Watcher wasn't sure why. Then the 1748
rendezvous. Kaia then travels to Zurich, and kills Hirsch."
"This happens every time?"
"Show me. And start from the beginning."
Methos was dressing rapidly. They'd gone through the entries in
MacLeod's chronicles one by one, and the corresponding entries from
Kaia's. The evidence was overwhelming. Kaia hunted down and killed a
new Immortal that MacLeod had met recently after each Valentine's Day
rendezvous. Presumably acting on information MacLeod had unwittingly
given her. Another disturbing fact was that she had been following
Connor MacLeod for months when he met up with Duncan the day before
his and Kaia's first meeting. That coupled with her penchant for
hunting only young Immortals suggested rather strongly that she had
been after him that day.
"Well, at least there's no student for her to go after this time..."
Joe stopped, his face clouding as something tugged at his thoughts.
"I don't care," Methos said, hurriedly tying his shoes. "I want to
get there before she leaves, and it's almost dawn now." He looked up
at Joe, who was now wearing a stricken expression. "What is it?"
"What about him? He's no student."
"He said something about MacLeod teaching him when he introduced
himself. And Kaia said, 'Always glad to meet a student of Duncan's.'"
Methos picked up his sword and walked to where his overcoat was
hanging by the door without saying a word. He put it on and secreted
his sword within it. He looked back at Joe expectantly.