Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 32.1/34 Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com Duran Estancia Everyone, especially Duncan, had met Gordon Powell's arrival with great curiosity. After all, this was the man who had been married to Elena for one and a half centuries. Duncan wanted to dislike him, but even at first glance he was taken by the slim, scholarly, honest look of the man. The fact that the American Immortal had walked into a house full of potential enemies, most of whom could easily kill him, with total aplomb, impressed the Highlander, although ... "He has no sword," Duncan whispered to Methos while Gordon was being introduced around. "Maybe he doesn't need it," Methos answered, smiling inscrutably. "You'd think, married to Elena, he would need a weapon of some kind," Amanda had contributed, sotto voce, to the conversation. She, Grace Chandler and Ceirdwyn had arrived the night before and were to be one of Elena's bridesmaids. Amanda had also immediately reclaimed Duncan MacLeod's attentions. After the introductions, the annulment papers were duly signed, and Elena and Gordon retired to her study for a private conversation. "You don't think he's boffing her, do you?" Amanda said into Duncan's ear as she eyed the closed door. "Ach, no!" Duncan replied, horrified, but Methos smiled evilly. ======== The night before the wedding, which would take place in the little chapel, all the preparations were made, but Elena had to get away from her adorado tormento, her beloved torment, for a while, so before dinner she, Aylon, and Ceirdwyn had gone out for a night ride. Grace Chandler sat reading nearby while Duncan played chess with Heru-sa-aset in the library, with Amanda kibitzing. Methos was slowly consuming Elena's huge library, reading as he did constantly in the leather chair on the terrace, overlooking the courtyard. "What are you thinking?" Methos looked up from his book, slowly, just to needle him a little, although he was the most patient of them. Corazon Negro leaned against the frame of the terrace door, arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other. "Nothing in particular," Methos answered. "What about your wedding?" "I'm not thinking about it." "Wise," Methos said, smiling. Corazon Negro sighed. He drew a little closer. He put his hands on the back of the chair. Knowing he wasn't sighing about his nuptials, Methos turned his head toward him. "It was a foolish dream, wasn't it?" he asked. "It could never have been realized, not even if humankind had proclaimed her the new Goddess and obeyed every command." "It was insanity," Corazon Negro answered. "Mortal men would have stopped her; destroyed her; more quickly than she ever dreamed." There was a silence. "The world would not have wanted her," he added. "That's what she could never comprehend." "Do you really think so? Do you really think humankind could have stopped her?" Methos asked wishfully. Still he couldn't say her name. "No," the Aztec stated after a while. "They could never have stopped her. But I like to think they could." "Maybe in the end she knew it, when she fought against Zarach, I mean. No place for her in this world anymore; no way for her to have value and be the thing she was. Maybe she knew it when she looked into your eyes inside the Dream and saw the wall there, which she could never breach. Over the millennia, she was so careful with her visitations to do her magic, to implant her cult, choosing places as primitive and changeless as she was herself. The present undid her." Corazon Negro nodded. "As always, you know the answers to your own questions." Methos didn't say anything for a while, then he changed the subject to one that still troubled him. "When is Cassandra arriving?" he asked suddenly. The Aztec looked at his friend. "Tonight. Then all four of the bridesmaids, Amanda, Cassandra, Grace Chandler and Ceirdwyn will be here." "And I'm to be your best man. I am flattered, you know." "Who better than you?" Methos shook his head, then stood and moved away, slowly. He walked to the edge of the courtyard and looked past the fence, out at the pampa. Corazon Negro followed. The Aztec looked at him. There was always something else on his mind. "May I ask you a question? Tell me..." Corazon Negro started, and then he stopped. "Did I love her?" Methos finished for him. "It that what you want to know? Yes, I loved her. Just as I loved Kronos in another time." "Tell me about Kronos," Corazon Negro asked. He knew about that particular Immortal, but he wanted to know Methos' side of the story. Methos realized with a shock that the time for the lies was over, forever-and it was a strange feeling, but a great discovery too. "I found him when he was a boy. After he became Immortal, we worked together, fought together, lived together with his family. Then one day, there was a raid. It was centuries before I discovered Mother had ordered the attack. She wanted Kronos at her side, and above all, she wanted revenge against me. Anyway, the slaves were killed, the children and wives taken. Just as Mother had foreseen, Kronos wanted revenge, so we took it. Afterwards, we just kept taking... just as she had planned. Years later, Caspian and Silas came. By then, Kronos had researched into the Immortal legends and he was convinced the one way for us to achieve proper power above the other Immortals was for us to take the Quickening from the ancient ones. That meant we had to locate one of the fabled ancient ones and take his head, thus gaining his powers. Of course, Kronos chose Mother, so we went. Inside one of her caves... inside the cavern, she created the Horsemen... and took control of my soul once more..." Methos made a pause, sighed, and then continued. "Many years later Zarach found Cassandra wandering in the desert-she had just escaped from us, from me. Zarach, bless his heart, came to my rescue one more time, so I left the Horsemen. Kronos didn't want me to go. We fought. I won, but ... I couldn't do it. I couldn't take his head. So I left." He stopped and stared out to the black pampa. "Over the centuries, I hoped I would find that he had changed, that the anger was gone..." He shook his head. "But Mother never left him alone, so the anger never ended. The madness never ceased." "But you had to know Lilitu would come for you one day," Corazon Negro said sadly. "I tried not to think about it. I hoped someone would kill her someday." Methos' sigh was deep, filling then emptying his chest. "Do you know what it's like, not to carry that burden anymore?" he whispered. "To know now for the first time that I am free?" Corazon Negro didn't answer, but he could most certainly feel it. Methos shook his head. Reflecting, he looked up at the stars. "What about you, Dreamer? Are you free too? I wish I understood you." "You do. You always have." Methos smiled. "Live, grow stronger, fight another day. In the morning, it will be my honor to be your best man, Son of the Wolf." ======== Two days later, the Ancient Gathering found itself standing in a group of people, smiling, saying goodbye, and shaking hands. Many of the gauchos had ridden in, waiting to say farewell-and most had brought their families. Mapuche Indios from scattered homes and tiny hamlets that had been inhabited for hundreds of years, all located within Elena's property, had come to see them off, to see the strange guests of the Senorita. Also present were the horse trainers, the stable boys and girls, the house staff, the farmers, children and adults alike, waving adieu, wishing all of them good luck, desiring them Godspeed. Few mortals knew about their Immortality. Regardless, even the parish priest from the nearby village of Veiloso, who had annulled Elena's marriage to one man and married her to another, had come back and was saying a prayer over them, making the sign of the cross. They drove out in Jeeps, flanked by mortals on either side, and there would be more standing on the streets of Veiloso to wave to them, although most of them didn't know why. Somehow the word had gotten out; someway, deep in their souls the mortals knew. A great evil had been vanished from the earth, and the strange characters leaving the estancia had taken a heroic part in its destruction. "See you soon," Corazon Negro said to Methos. "Don't lose your head." "I won't," Methos said confidently and hugging Corazon Negro. Then the Aztec hugged Duncan, Heru-sa-aset and Aylon, Grace Chandler, Amanda, Ceirdwyn and left Elena to say her goodbyes. "Adios," Elena whispered in Aylon' arms. "God be with you," she said. "We will see each other again," Aylon promised, and then left as the others approached Elena. One by one, they said goodbye. Heru-sa-aset kissed her forehead. "I will be awaiting you in my fortress, Elena. I still want you as my disciple." "I'll be honored," Elena answered. "Thank God we have time for such things now." "Yes," he answered. Duncan came. "It was a great adventure, wasn't it?" he asked, holding her tight enough to make her ribs hurt. Amanda hovered but did nothing to interfere. "Take care, escoces," Elena replied. "Give my love to Connor and his family; I'm sorry he missed the wedding. As for you -- I will always love you," she added, thinking of Duncan's words. Indeed, it had been a great adventure, one that tested men to their limits, but they had prevailed. "If you ever need anything." Duncan said, holding her at arm's length. "Make sure to come see us," Amanda finished, taking Duncan's arm possessively and smiling brightly. Cassandra was next. "I still won't teach you the Voice," she whispered. "I don't want to learn it," Elena said, laughing. "I can't handle that much power. It's too much of a curse; you're stronger than I am," she said, to which the witch merely smiled enigmatically and moved away with Duncan and Amanda. Elena had a special hug for Methos. "I will pray for your father every day," she promised, "and for you as well. When-not if, but when-he is well, let me know, and we will come to him wherever he is to thank him properly. He's like the soldier who throws himself on the live grenade, and he saved us all." "He did, didn't he?" Methos mused, his spirits obviously lifted by Elena's contagious optimism. When they were in the Jeeps, from the crowd came a woman who observed them closely. She was mature and pretty, not older than forty. Her black hair framed her face, and two condor feathers were tied in her hair on the left side of her head. She was dressed in jeans, a multicolored shirt, and riding boots, and wore a trariwe-the Mapuche type of women's belt-around her waist. Her fingernails were long, witnesses to her power and authority. Any other man looking at her would assume she was simply a pureblood native. But not the Ancient Gathering, who knew her. This woman was the Machi they had seen at the ceremony the night before, the Mapuche priestess, physician, prophet, and seer who had blessed Corazon Negro and Elena's union. The woman before them was the granddaughter of the Machi killed by Lilitu more than twenty years ago, and the Machi's power had, according to tradition, passed down to her. "Josefina," Elena said, hugging the woman and happy she had come to say goodbye. The night before, the priestess had told them about the dream she had had: "I dreamed about the end of one story, and the beginning of another. The darkness was met by the coming of great warriors. Old beliefs clashed against new ones. The Ancient Gathering defeated the bringer of death who opposed you all. The great evil, the dark one, the Kalkuce-devil-terrible and deadly, is no more. Now Pillan Nuke Mapu-the other-world-is in peace," Josefina had said. Josefina paused looking intensely at them, then spoke in Mapuche. "Kom incin kine mojfvngein, penigein, mapucegein-Now we are of one blood, we are brothers because we are the people of the earth. Now the circle is complete." "It is," Heru-sa-aset said smiling at her. "I will pray for your safe - and long -- journey," Josefina promised. "And we will always be at your debt for that," Aylon answered as he raised his hand and made the traditional pattern in the air in front of his face. "As-salamu' alaina-may the peace go with you and with all servants of Allah." After that, the children ran alongside the Jeeps until they were out of sight. Like a gypsy caravan, the Ancient Gathering left Elena's estancia, a parade of shining heroes streaking through the pampa, and into the legend one more time. ========