HIGHLA-L Digest - 8 Nov 2004 to 9 Nov 2004 (#2004-205)
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Tue, 9 Nov 2004 22:00:09 -0500
There are 2 messages totalling 535 lines in this issue.
Topics of the day:
1. Season Five dvds: Revelations 6:8, Pt. 2/2
2. Season Five dvds: Revelations 6:8, Pt 1/2
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Date: Tue, 9 Nov 2004 11:04:52 -0500
From: kageorge <kageorge@erols.com>
Subject: Season Five dvds: Revelations 6:8, Pt. 2/2
Methos sits outside Cassandra’s cage, trying to have a conversation, but
Cassandra tells him she’s “not your sorry little slave anymore,” that he
may have fooled MacLeod, but he never fooled her, that if MacLeod knew
who Methos really was, he would have taken his head long ago.
“Well, he had his chance. He didn’t.”
Methos tries to get her to admit that their time together wasn’t all
bad, that she shouldn’t hate herself for coming to rely on her captors,
like the Stockholm syndrome, even thinking she fell in love with him,
believing he would protect her. “You forgot what I was!” He tells her
that if “we want to survive, we will keep him happy.”
“I didn’t do it then, and I won’t now. I’d rather die.”
“Well then you’ll die. And you can forget about MacLeod. MacLeod is dead.”
But MacLeod is definitely not dead. He manages to track down where the
base is by looking for where monkeys might be delivered, since Methos
had told him Kronos was using monkeys in his virus experiments.
Kronos is incensed at Silas that MacLeod killed Caspian, then got away.
(“Never again will be four!”) But when Silas suggests they hunt him
together, Kronos has a better idea. They go to Cassandra, finding Methos
there, surprising them both when he tells Silas that if MacLeod even
gets close, to kill Cassandra, then instructing Methos to come with him,
that they are going to poison the city.
But on the way, they feel MacLeod, who appears at the top of the stairs.
When Duncan pulls out his sword, Kronos says that if he gives up, he’ll
let Cassandra live, if he fights, whether he wins or loses, Cassandra
will die. Duncan pauses for a moment, and he and Methos exchange a hard
look, but Duncan then says he believes she’d rather be dead. “You set me
up,” Duncan says to Methos, and Kronos orders Methos to tell Silas to
kill Cassandra, and that she should know that it was MacLeod’s choice.
Duncan calls after Methos, begging him not to do it.
“Like you said,” Methos answers. “I go with the winner,” and he runs off.
Methos has his sword out when he approaches Silas, who pulls her out of
her cage and raises his axe to kill her, but Methos puts his sword in
his way. Silas thinks it is because he wants to be the one to take her
head. “Take it. She’s yours, brother.”
“I am not your brother,” Methos says in almost a whisper.
The fights are shown flashing back and forth between them, but the fight
between Methos and Silas is especially brutal as Methos looks
overmatched by Silas’ huge axe and greater strength. But then Kronos
sees that Methos has betrayed him, and looks up at MacLeod with a
maniacal expression. “You still don’t understand, MacLeod. I AM THE END
OF TIME!”
“You’re history,” Duncan says resolutely, and in a few more strikes
Kronos is dead, just as Silas overreaches with his axe, goes off
balance, and Methos swings a powerful backhanded blow that severs Silas’
head. The Quickenings are huge, with Methos’ groans and Duncan’s shouts
barely heard over the explosions. There is a moment when a spiral light
seems to connect the two, then it is over.
Methos collapses to his hands and knees, weeping. “I killed Silas. I
*liked* Silas!”
We see the huge shadow of Cassandra loom over him as she picks up Silas’
axe. “Now I’m supposed to forgive you?” she screams, and raises the axe.
“Cassandra!” Duncan yells hoarsely in a clear warning.
“You want him to live?” she asks in amazement.
“Yes, I want him to live.” She starts to raise the axe again, and he
yells again, “Cassandra, I want him to live!” Slowly she lowers, then
drops the axe. Duncan holds his face in his hands and Cassandra walks
away, leaving Methos weeping on the floor.
It is morning, and Duncan and Methos are in a cemetery. Duncan says
Methos had to have known Kronos would come for him, eventually, but
Methos just says he tried not to think about it. Methos tells Duncan
that he wanted to kill Kronos, but they were brothers “in arms and blood
and everything except birth. And if I judged him worthy to die then I
judged myself the same way. And I wanted to live. I still do.”
“Kronos was right. You set the whole thing up, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You knew he’d come after Cassandra, and you let him because you knew
I’d come after her. You couldn’t kill him but you hoped I could.”
Methos looks briefly at MacLeod. “Maybe.”
Duncan asks him about Cassandra. “One of a thousand regrets, MacLeod,”
Methos sighs tiredly. “One of a thousand regrets.” And the two men walk
away, not really together, not really apart.
MY COMMENTS: Whew! I’m exhausted. <g> Sorry for the long, long episode
description, and this is after I cut a full page out of it. There is so
much going on in this episode and the nuances between the characters,
while seeming small, can mean so much that I didn’t want to leave out
all the rich inter-personal relationship stuff.
The big question in this episode is who is Methos, and what the hell is
he doing, and why? I can only give my opinion, which I know isn’t shared
universally, but I will try to set it out as best I can.
Methos is, both by word and deed, a consummate survivor. We are never
told why he became a Horseman, but I have come to believe he did so for
two reasons. First, with these four other Immortals, doing what they
were doing, he could be exactly who he was without fear of discovery or
persecution. He was already a couple of thousand years old by that time.
How many times had he left, either voluntarily or out of necessity, a
family, tribe or clan because of what he was? How many times had he been
persecuted, killed, enslaved or imprisoned out of fear of his very
nature? What a wonderful freedom it must finally have been to just “be”.
The other reason was precisely as Kronos described it: The freedom to do
whatever they wanted, take whatever they wanted, kill whomever they
wanted, to exercise power on a scale unknown in the world at that time
except by gods – to virtually be a god.
But who is Methos today? He is still that consummate survivor, but he
has outgrown his need to exercise that power, and come to abhor that
part of his nature. However, to him Kronos is still near god-like in the
power he exerts over his life. Clearly Methos believed that Kronos had
both the will and the strength to do exactly what he proposed – to bring
about world anarchy and chaos – and that to oppose him would guarantee
his own death. That was a price he would not pay, no matter what other
costs were involved. MacLeod was his only leverage to escape a return to
what he had been, an icon for the kind of person he had wished he was
but knew he could never be – not just because of his own nature, but
because of what he had seen and done. He would never have MacLeod’s
sense that the world “ought” to be a decent place where good was
rewarded and evil was punished. Duncan was Methos’ wild card, as it
were, which he kept in play by whatever means he could: dropping the
matches; drawing him away from Cassandra; telling him about the virus in
the fountain. I think Duncan was right, that Methos *did* orchestrate
those events, but not out of any grand plan. He was just waiting for a
critical moment when events might turn, when he hoped that MacLeod could
be put in a position to do what Methos had never been able to bring
himself to do.
If Duncan hadn’t been in the picture, would Methos have become Kronos’
second-in-command, overseeing the apocalypse? In my opinion, the answer
is unquestionably yes, oh yes. Even Peter W. has said much the same
thing – that Methos’ priority was, first and foremost, to survive.
Niceties like avoiding doing bad things were a distant second to that
Maslovian pyramid point. He couldn’t kill Kronos, even in the face of
what Kronos was prepared to do, but despite Kronos’ need of Methos as a
foil for his own evil genius, he knew Kronos would kill him without
hesitation if he truly worked against him or tried to leave him.
And this brings me to a comparison that occurred to me as I recalled the
end of “The Valkyrie”, where Methos refuses to answer Duncan’s question
about who judges him. Methos, in essence, had refused to judge Kronos or
himself because to do so would require him deal with the consequences of
his history. Duncan, to the contrary, *does* judge others and acts on
that judgment especially when it comes to behavior that threatens the
life of mortals. He also, however, judges himself, and can be very harsh
on himself for doing the wrong thing, or even doing the right thing for
the wrong reasons. So, Methos feels he has no right to judge anyone, but
chooses to become best buds with someone he knows to make such
judgments. Do we sense something Freudian here? Does he have an inner
need to be, if not forgiven, at least accepted by someone like Duncan
MacLeod because if MacLeod can learn to accept him, then Methos is
somehow more comfortable in his own skin and can truly put the past
behind him? Just a thought.
And does refusing to make judgments make Methos the better man, or just
someone who takes the easy way out of morally ambiguous situations?
Whatever judgments are made and whoever makes them, Methos has, in some
deep part of his soul, recognized that Kronos could not be allowed to
live, not just for his past acts, but for the very essence of who he
was. Methos’ dilemma was that, at one time, he was no different from
Kronos, and no less worthy to die. The fact that Methos wanted
desperately to live at virtually any cost also cast him more into
Kronos’ moral cesspool. And that brings us to the fight with Silas. Boy,
is it ever clear he didn’t want to do that, so why did he? He couldn’t
possibly know the outcome of the fight between Duncan and Kronos. It
could go either way, so he didn’t do it to help MacLeod.
Then did he do it just to save Cassandra? There are probably those who
will argue otherwise, but in my opinion, that was truly at the heart of
his actions. The self-disgust he manifests when he talks about Cassandra
dying a dozen times in the desert being worth it just to get away from
them makes it clear to me that in some fundamental way Cassandra is a
living representative of all those he had wronged so horribly so long
ago. I don’t think Methos knew until he ran off on Kronos’ errand that,
faced with the idea of Cassandra’s death at the Horsemen’s hands, he
finally did that which, up to that point, I don’t think he had been
ready to do – to lay his life on the line for a concept, a notion of
honor, a belief that it was the *right* thing to do.
Duncan, it should be noted, never suggested that Methos deserved to die,
only that he was appalled at the history that Cassandra had related, and
that he felt betrayed that Methos had lied to him. He has certainly
killed and/or hunted for personal vengeance (Kern. Culbraith. Kiernan.),
so he understands Cassandra’s feelings, but he also knows today’s Methos
and has learned to trust him with his life. Every step of the way,
Methos’ actions can be interpreted as either incredibly self serving and
manipulative, or altruistic, and Duncan never really knows which, but he
chooses to cling to the possibility that Methos is still the man he
originally believed (or wanted him) to be. Very, very complicated, and
not easy to get past the sense that Duncan had been played for a fool,
and dangerously so.
It is hardly surprising that in the end Duncan is still angry and
suspicious that he still doesn’t know what Methos’ agenda really was,
whether he *and* Cassandra had merely been pawns manipulated to
extricate a dangerous thorn from Methos’ side. Methos’ only true moment
of complete vulnerability had been when he wept at the loss of his
friend Silas – a simple man, but also a beast who had smiled as he
watched Caspian murder the doctor, and as he watched Kronos prepare to
kill Cassandra with the knife she had stabbed him with so long ago.
Did Cassandra decide not to kill Methos because of Duncan? At least
partially. He was the voice of reason, of sanity. He had been telling
her all along that vengeance would never bring her peace – a lesson he
had learned the hard way. It was something she knew intellectually but
until that moment she hadn’t come face to face with the power of letting
go. Not killing Methos must have been incredibly freeing for her, once
she was past the immediate emotional crisis. She finally let go of
thousands of years of hate and fear and took back her life. I’d like to
think she might have done that on her own, but Duncan’s voice demanding
that Methos live was the small push she needed to make that break with
her past.
As for an overall assessment of the quality of the episode, I think it
was brilliant. Somehow, the writers and AP managed to pack in an
incredible amount of nuance among the four Horsemen, show the core of
the relationship between Methos and Kronos, and layer subtlety upon
subtlety so that even as we are peeling back the layers of time and
relationship, we remain uncertain who is the manipulator and who is the
manipulated. The space was brilliantly decorated and used and managed to
convey a mix of ancient world and modern world in a dark, shadowed space
full of hard edges that were, in a bizarre way, kind of beautiful.
The special effects of the quickening didn’t really work, and was the
one moment of cheesiness that bothered me. I think I heard a comment by
AP somewhere (the “best of” video, maybe?) that he really hated that
post-production effect, but they ran out of time to change it.
The battles (I think “swordfight” is too tame a term for those
confrontations) were stunningly done, with the intercuts between the two
combatants paced for maximum tension and visual interest. The
personalities of all the fighters emerged in the way they moved and
defended, so it was truly a violent ballet of grotesque beauty.
The meaning of the joint Quickening business has been explored ad
nauseum, to no definitive conclusion, so I’ll leave that to each viewer
to interpret however they choose. If you want to know my take on it,
write me and I’ll give you a couple of links that will more than amply
cover that topic.
I could probably keep rambling on because there is so much meat in this
episode that involves interpretation and comparisons with what we have
seen in the past of these characters, and what we will learn of them in
the future, but that is fodder for discussion, not lecture. <g>
MacGeorge
All episode commentaries at:
http://www.wordsmiths.net/MacGeorge/episodes/indexframeset.htm
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Date: Tue, 9 Nov 2004 11:04:39 -0500
From: kageorge <kageorge@erols.com>
Subject: Season Five dvds: Revelations 6:8, Pt 1/2
Commentary w/screen captures available at:
http://www.wordsmiths.net/MacGeorge/episodes/Season5/Revelation.htm
COMMENTARY: David says the episode was shot in Bordeaux and they had
great parties, tons of wine, and the episodes looked great and felt
great. Adrian, he says, did a great job as a director, that he worked
the actors harder. The bottom line is that, “he directed the hell out of
the episode. The fight sequences were wonderful,” and as much as he and
Adrian used to fight (and he says they “used to go at it pretty good”)
he delivered the episode.
Valentine P. says there was an element of fun to playing Kronos that was
difficult to describe. Val says that Kronos probably wouldn’t have
hesitated to take Caspian’s or Silas’ head if they had talked back to
him, but not Methos, because Methos completes him. Val said playing with
Peter was fun, (“He’s a real giggler.”) and working with Adrian was fun
and that they were still in touch. He says that Adrian had them work one
long, 10 hour Sunday just on getting the relationships right, the
pecking order, what their likes and dislikes were, to make rounded
relationships and characters, with great attention to detail. When they
were on set it saved a tremendous amount of time, but it also clarified
the relationships, which showed on screen. The more you know about the
character and are in tune with what the director wants, the quicker you
can work. Because Adrian was both playing MacLeod and directing, that
Sunday was crucial because they’d ironed out the sort of problems that
could have led to long discussions on set. The other benefit was that
during the final fight, if they needed to cut, Adrian could call the cut
from inside the scene, give Val a brief note on what to do and when and
where they were going to start up again. Val notes that when you fight
somebody as good as Adrian, he’s up to speed, his responses are really
finely tuned. Adrian made allowances for the guest actors not being as
fast as he was, which was great, and he pulls his blows, “which is a
relief.” If it’s not a case of remembering 60 moves, if you can get it
into your muscle memory, you can play the scene and really intend to
kill them, but at a distance where you’re safe. Once you’ve got that,
and your opponent has that, then you can go “hell for leather” with a
freedom that is rare in sword fighting scenes. Obviously there is a
limit to what you can show, but the intention behind the blow can sell
the emotion of the moment.
(They show a bit of the unaired clip of Methos and Kronos in Greek times)
Peter talks about the flashback shot (which they show a moment more of)
between Methos and Kronos in Greek days that was the most embarrassing
thing he had ever committed to film. Val Pelka and he in *really* bad
wigs, very skimpy short “tuxedo towel things” (Val: “English legs are
not meant for skirts!”) Peter (looking pained) says he hopes the film
was destroyed, but fears it still lives somewhere (and they show more of
it). Peter sighs, covering his face with his hand, and tells the story
of Methos trapping Kronos and putting him in a pit (Val: “Well he *did*
and I learnt there to read books!”) and hoped that he would never again
resurface. In Freudian terms, Methos buried away the bad part of
himself, but he couldn’t kill it. When Kronos comes back, it’s like all
that stuff comes back and it’s still alive and in him. In Peter’s
opinion, throughout the CAH and Rev events, Methos was making it up as
he went along. The story reminded him of Hamlet, where people argue
about whether he was crazy or pretending to be crazy, but Methos was
moment-by-moment doing what he needed to survive. However, Peter felt
there was always the chance that, at some moment Methos would decide,
“Okay, MacLeod’s gotta go.” If Kronos had won out, Methos would have
gone with him and survived as best he could, but he didn’t feel like
there was any love or respect left in Methos for Kronos. There is lovely
plan and counter plan and subterfuge going on throughout the whole
episode and an edginess about every part of their relationship. If
MacLeod had fallen, that edginess would have continued. The big question
was how much Methos and Kronos needed each other.
Adrian says the dilemma was that MacLeod was going after a friend, but
something was telling him that Methos was doing what he was doing for a
reason. It might be a sick reason, but there was some good in him that
was never going to allow “the whole mess to occur.” He said he said he
tried to find in each of the scenes that critical point where you had to
guess whether Methos was good or just going back to his bad side, to
keep the glimmer of hope alive in MacLeod that Methos was still good.
Adrian says that both directing and acting in the show was a real
challenge because of the sheer size of it. In discussing the Quickening,
he says they’d never played with two simultaneous Quickenings, and the
question was whether their spirits joined at that point. There was a
real symbolic idea that during the Q, with two men who had two totally
different ideologies of life still believed in a truth, although Methos
notion of truth was very discolored, from MacLeod’s point of view.
David A. ends the commentary noting that, “Sometimes the magic works and
sometimes it doesn’t. This time the magic worked, in spades.”
OUTTAKES: They show the filming of Silas throwing the axe into the tree.
In actuality, Richard Ridings throws the axe into the brush, and it is
F. Braun McAsh (who, eventually, after several tries) actually throws
the axe toward the tree. The motion of the axe actually hitting the tree
with Kronos and Methos standing nearby was actually a trick of the
camera angle, with F. Braun swinging the axe. That took several tries,
too (with F. Braun cursing a fair amount).
The scene in the insane asylum where Kronos is trying to extricate
Caspian actually starts with P.W. adlibbing dialogue: “Okay, we’d like
him. We’d like the f**king crazy guy, okay? I know he’s f**king crazy,
but we want to take him away.” In that scene, the background business of
Silas whittling a flute was something the director and the actor came up
with. That business stuck in Gillian’s head and became integral to the
story Gillian wrote for the “Evening at Joe’s” anthology. In a second
take of the same scene, Val forgets to put the envelope of money in his
pocket and curses himself.
They show the filming of the final moments of the fight scene and then
the Quickening. The second clip is filmed in slow motion so the sound
continues at regular speed, but the action is slowed down, which is a
little peculiar. We hear the explosions go off, and hear Peter groaning
and yelling before he actually makes the physical moves.
THE EPISODE: A summary of previous events is shown as a prologue, ending
with Methos and Kronos on horseback in the backwoods of the Ukraine,
with Kronos complaining about how long it was taking to find Silas.
(Methos: “Have I ever lied to you?” Kronos: “Have you ever done anything
else?”) They come upon a big, burly Immortal chopping wood and initially
the confrontation is tense, then he throws back his head and laughs,
calling them brothers and picking up Methos and hugging him.
Joe helps Duncan and Cassandra look for the other two Horsemen, with
Duncan advising that if they are still alive, that’s where Kronos and
Methos would be headed and locate Caspian in an insane asylum in
Bucharest, Romania. Kronos, Methos and Silas are already there, of
course. Kronos bribes the doctor in charge to let Caspian go, but once
the doctor has opened the cell, they stand by and allow Caspian to kill
the doctor. As they leave, we see Methos deliberately drop a book of
matches.
At a bizarre, dark space in Bordeau that Methos tells Silas is Kronos’
“idea of Camelot,” the newly reunited Horsemen settle in, with Caspian
and Silas arguing about the nature of their next reign of terror. Kronos
exhorts them to remember who they were, that no band of men had ever
been more cruel or more feared, and they all join hands.
Duncan and Cassandra go to the insane asylum, where finds the matches,
which are from Joe’s bar and have an address of a hotel in Bordeaux
written on the inside. Duncan is convinced that Methos left it, and
Cassandra is sure Methos is just setting them up.
Kronos tells his fellow Horseman that the scientific age now has
“weapons of unimaginable power” that men like them – men without
conscience or fear – can exploit. Kronos leads them into a laboratory
full of caged monkeys. (Caspian: “You want to conquer the world with
monkeys?”) But Kronos opens an electronic safe to show them a virus in a
vial that he compares to ebola in its destructive power. Kronos tells
them that now that they have Methos, they will have a plan to implement
his desire to build a world of “anarchy and madness,” to give the world
what it fears most – the apocalypse.
Duncan and Cassandra check in at the hotel Methos has identified, but
there is no message from Methos. Cassandra keeps telling Duncan that
Methos can’t be trusted.
When Methos to Kronos that they start by poisoning a fountain, Kronos is
disdainful, accusing him of going soft, but Methos calls it a prelude,
reminding them that the first rule of great drama is “Start small and
build,” that if they want to rule the world, they have to give the world
a choice, “the Horsemen rule, or they all die.”
Cassandra tells Duncan that Methos is not his friend, that to kill
Kronos you “cut out the heart of the Horsemen. Kill Methos, take the
head.” Duncan tells Cassandra that revenge won’t erase what happened to
her, “only living can do that.” But Cassandra says nothing can erase
what happened.
Silas is playing with the monkeys and he and Methos talk, and Methos
starts to try to talk him out of their quest, but Silas only yearns for
their glory days. (Silas: “Like you always said, Methos. We live. We
grow stronger. And then we fight!”)
Back at the hotel, the phone rings, and it is Methos telling Duncan to
meet him in a church, alone.
It is a tense meeting, and Duncan’s first question is to ask why Methos
lied to him about knowing Cassandra, about who he was. Methos says he
didn’t tell him because he knew how Duncan would react. “What I’ve done
you can’t forgive,” he says disdainfully. “It’s not in your nature.
Well, you accept it.”
“Accept what!?” Duncan demands. “That a friend I trusted with my life
slaughtered innocent people for, what, a few head of cattle? What are
you going to tell me, Methos? That’s how the world was?”
Methos says the world was how they made it, but Duncan corrects him –
that it was how they chose to make it, how they chose to slaughter
people. That prompts Methos to tell Duncan more of the story. We get
another flashback to the Horsemen as they return after a raid. Methos
isn’t interested in celebrating their success and Kronos eyes him
warily. A pliant, obedient Cassandra is awaiting Methos in his tent,
pouring his wine and washing his hands and face for him with tenderness.
Kronos enters, complimenting Methos on how well he had taught Cassandra,
noting that she had kept the best fruit for him, accusing him of growing
attached to her. Methos denies that, and the two men face off but it’s
clear Methos gives ground. “Good. I didn’t think you’d make a mistake
like that, brother,” Kronos replies coldly. “Because now it’s time to
share the spoils of war.” Cassandra is outraged when Kronos grabs her,
and Methos does nothing as Cassandra screams to Methos to help her.
Much later, Cassandra is in Kronos’ tent and she has evidently been the
object of rape or abuse or both, begging Kronos not to hurt her anymore.
She goes to her knees, ready to perform another sexual act, but she
grabs Kronos’ dagger and stabs him. Methos hears a scream and watches as
Cassandra runs off into the desert. He tells Duncan that he let
Cassandra escape, that she probably died a dozen times in the process,
but that it was no doubt worth it to get away from the Horsemen.
Methos tells Duncan he’s with Kronos for “the same reason as always,
trying to survive,” and that Duncan should get Cassandra as far away as
he can, that nobody can stop Kronos, that in 5,000 years the world
doesn’t change, only the details. Kronos might use different methods,
but the effect would be the same, “The world living fear of the Horsemen!”
Duncan tells Methos he should know him better than to think he would
just let that happen. Duncan starts to leave, but Methos stops him,
warning him about the virus planted in the fountain. When Duncan
suggests they both go to deactivate it, Methos declines. “Oh, no! If I
go up against him, I lose.”
Back at the hotel, Kronos, Silas and Caspian show up at the door,
pulling out the knife Cassandra had used to gut him so long ago as Silas
looks on with a smile.
Duncan dashes to the fountain, yelling at people to get away. He jumps
in, finds the bomb, pulls a leatherman out of his pocket and snips the
wires as Methos had instructed, and it deactivates. He sighs with
relief, but just then the fountain starts up, and he is drenched.
Back at the base, Kronos tells Methos that he had figured out exactly
what Methos was going to do, including warning MacLeod. Methos tries to
explain it, but Kronos is very smug in his assurance that he knows
exactly how Methos thinks, that that is what makes Methos his “perfect
right arm.” He shows Methos a remote control that will trigger the
explosion of a small vial of the virus in the water reservoir. “We all
have our own little plans,” Kronos says, then takes him to see
Cassandra, who is in a cage. Kronos says he did exactly as Methos
expected when Methos sent MacLeod to the fountain – he took Cassandra
while she was unprotected. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?” he asks. “You
see, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Which is why the plan was perfect,” Methos answers smoothly.
“Your plans always are.” Then Kronos speculates about what MacLeod will
now think of Methos for luring him away and arranging to have Cassandra
kidnapped. Then he tells Methos that he sent both Caspian and Silas
after MacLAeod.
Duncan is returning to the hotel when he ends up facing Caspian coming
in one direction and Silas from the other. He tries to run, but ends up
on a bridge, taking on Caspian and killing him. As the Quickening
strikes, Silas closes in for the kill, but Duncan throws himself off the
bridge into the water.
...continued in post #2
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End of HIGHLA-L Digest - 8 Nov 2004 to 9 Nov 2004 (#2004-205)
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