The lone figure stood alone, overlooking the river. The sky was as normal, dry and grey as he watched the Tiber and its various traffic. How long ago was when he was first here? Luc Artagus turned away from his window and sighed. He had never liked this apartment. He preferred home, the villa, with his wife, Eva...
He had left her in capable hands for this business trip, swollen and heavy with child. He had always been proud of that. He was one of a kind, even though he was one of a kind in other ways... For that, he was hated, for that he remained in secret.
He moved to the cabinet by the kitchenette and opened it and took out a small china cup and poured himself a cup from a teapot that he knew dated from 18th century, when was it? His thoughts were interrupted by the sensation. Shit, Luc thought to himself.... He heard the knock a few moments later and he moved to the door, keeping an eye on the silver-braided katana on the inside of the door. The handle was right next to the doorknob as he kept an eye on it when he opened the door.
“Adam, what are you doing here?” Luc spoke with mild surprise as he recognized the ancient Immortal on the other side. He knew Adam’s secret, that he was the Immortal legend Methos and easily doubled the two thousand year old Immortal’s impressive age. Out of courtesy and his elder’s request, he said nothing though and knew he should say nothing.
“Been a while, Luc..... How’s Eva? Still pregnant?
Luc nodded, inviting his aged friend in and watched him pass, watching the chiseled lines.
***
60 BC - Plains of Gaul
The chiseled lines of the soldier in front of him were all that he saw as Lecii Argatimax slashed his way through the man in front of him with his massive war blade. He grunted with approval as the lines parted, revealing muscle and bone beneath. His brother beside grunted approval. Erik was grinning underneath his thick braided brown beard as he spun his axe around into the leather armour of another.
“Like a pudding, eh, Lecii?” he grinned as he called out in their Arvenian tongue, but the grin was lost as he looked down to the bloody tip of a gladius protruding from his sternum.
Lecii howled a shout in protest before he felt a sharp cutting sensation across his back and he knew that he had let his guard down as he sank to his knees, while turning around at slicing the soldier’s knees as more soldiers gathered about him and thrust at his body with more swords. It took four more stabs before he fell the rest of the way as his face hit the mud.
***
“So what brings you here?” he asked Methos as Methos sat into a chair, quite uninvited. He offered him a cup of tea, but the other Immortal refused it.
“Simply put.... Alexander,” the ancient Immortal replied evenly.
Luc took an involuntary step back and shook his head. “Thought he died some time back”
“He didn’t,” Methos replied. “Do you have any idea where he could be?”
Luc shook his head once. “Haven’t seen him in years.” He picked up a glass and dumped the water in into a flowerpot and stared t the damp soil. “And to think I’ve known him forever.”
***
60 BC - Plains of Gaul
His eyes snapped open in a flash as he gasped in breath. He was still alive, but how? Devil’s work..... Those damn Druids..... He turned with a groan and saw Erik’s dead body still next to him, his eyes vacant with expressionless emptiness of death. Lecii closed his eyes and wished for death. He struggled to his knees, to the alarm of scavenging Romans, and howled another war cry as he sprang forth with his war blade and met another length of steel, this time through his gut as he sagged down against the mud again.....
He woke again, with his face in the mud as he was hauled back up by his shoulders and turned around and opened his eyes into the face of a Roman centurion. “Quod est tibi nomen?” the murderer spoke in his disgusting language. Lecii knew it, but wouldn’t give him the time of the day.
“Mihi nomen ist Caedo Tiberius Ensis. You, my friend, seem to have a hard time dying.”
“Not like you, Roman dog! Your mother was a bitch to whelp you!” Lecii yelled out in his own Gallic language as he reached out and took a grip of the Roman’s gladius and pulled it out with a yank. He frowned at the unfamiliar feel of such a small sword and swore to himself he would never use such a woman’s blade as he thrust it into the Roman’s gut. He pulled it out and got up with a slight struggle, then dropped the blade with a panicked fear as he saw the Roman dog did not drop. “Goddess, are you some demon?”
“No, not a demon. Just unable to die. Just like you. Now will you tell me your name?” the apparently unhurt soldier spoke to the Gaul.
“Lecii Argatimax,” snarled the filthy Gaul, he itched to grab up his deposited war blade, ready to sink the cleaver into this man’s gut.
The Roman in turn seemed to have trouble with the name. Typical, Lecii, thought. Their primitive tongue could not hold such a glorious name. “Luc-ee Artigimax?” hazarded the Roman, “I know, it’s not exactly what you said, but you have such barbaric words. Do not fear of calling me Caedo. Call me Alexander perhaps.”
“I have no ears for you, I care not if you cannot die or not”
“Neither can you. the gods have blessed us with this Immortality.”
“Blessed? Your gods only curse our people and our lands with the plague of your Romans.”
The Roman had defeat in his face before he brought his gauntleted wrist up into Lecii’s face before he knew darkness.
***
“Since the beginning. I didn’t see him for a while after that until years later after I had been a slave,” spoke Luc after a while.
Methos remained silent for a few moments, then stood up. “Then you became Lucanus Artagus, the great soldier.”
Luc turns and grins. “Got a hammer?”
***
25 AD - Province of Judea
Lucanus Antonius Artagus, legionnaire in the third division of the fourth century of the Fifth Legion, looked down upon the Roman slave with cold disregard. His lieutenant gave him the nod and he knelt down by the prone figure.
“I don’t pity you, Remus. You won’t die. This will be hell,” he muttered so that no other could hear him as he brought the hammer up and drove the nail into the flesh and wood and Remus, known to himself only as Methos, screamed.
They had arrested him from the household of Senator Valerius Petronius where he was a slave. The charge was attempting to rape Druscilla, his wife. Lucanus knew that the charges were bogus or at least highly exaggerated. Druscilla had a certain, reputation, shall we call it, for being promiscuous. No man or young boy was safe from her temptress ways. Didn’t take long to figure out what really happened as he helped hoist Remus onto the cross. It’s happened before, nothing new. He promised himself he would come back later tonight to rescue this comrade who had been falsely accused. But for now, he took proud satisfaction in his handiwork. Each execution just seemed so right. This one was even more humorous.
***
“They never believed me. I would never touch her. She was.... ugly! God, what a slut,” said Methos with a certain measure of disgust in his voice.
“Genesis 39,” Luc said cryptically, grinning before Methos cut him off with a glare. Luc took a few more moments to grin with slight satisfaction that he could get under Methos’s skin still.
“Not like you didn’t have the same problems, Luc. We were all slaves at one point or the other, don’t you remember?” questioned Methos as he stood and walked to the door, handing him a card with Adam Pierson’s name and number on it. “Call me when you have word. And good luck with the baby.”
Luc half-nodded as he glanced down to the card, hearing the door click as the world’s oldest Immortal left. He knew he could detect the jealousy in his old friend’s voice, he always could. He was the only known Immortal capable of having children, a fact that had brought him great animosity among even his own peers. He sighed, pushing aside his tea and retrieving a bottle of whiskey and sat down to watch the view from his balcony.
***
58 BC- Rome
The distant hills of Rome were like the welcoming calls of old friends. Alexander reined in his horse and gazed out at the horizon, grinning broadly.
"Home," he said, with some considerable satisfaction. Beside him, the newly renamed Lucanus scowled. He disliked this itchy outfit that he was wearing, he disliked the fact that he had been made to shave off his proud beard and cut his warrior’s braids into a barbaric Roman haircut, and he most disliked that his name had been disgraced by being changed into a Roman name, since the dog didn’t like what he heard. Oh, well, it’ll all be over soon. Besides it grew on him somewhat as did the company of this odd fellow.
"That's not home. That's… somewhere else."
"Well it's home to me, for now." Alexander sighed, thinking happily of a cask or two of wine, and a bevy of serving girls. They always welcomed him back in some pleasant fashion, usually with feasting and merriment. Not that he hadn't had plenty of feasting and merriment whilst he was away - to say nothing of a fair supply of serving girls - it was just that it was always nice to get back to the place that he thought of as home. "You gotta put down some new roots, Lucanus my boy. It's a nice world, once you start getting to know it. Just pay the taxes and don’t get into fights. In return, they give you women and they give you wine. Come on, brother, this is not a bad place at all. It's been extremely profitable for us, all things considered; a big farm, lots of land, as many horses as you can possibly ride. What more could a man want?"
"Slaughter of these dogs, Alexander. Though your words seem enticing, they’re nothing in comparison to my Gaul. Much less, but one good thing, they’re no Druids here."
"I know. They do get tiresome, but we have our priests here and there’s not much difference. God stealers. They think they’re so original." Sighing, Alexander nudged his horse forward again. "Also, a little less of the Alexander, please brother. Get back into the habit of calling me by my Roman name."
"Fine, Ensis. I suppose we ought to play by the rules." Lucanus smirked. "It wouldn't do to let them know that we're not Roman, after all."
"Precisely, wouldn’t want them to think one of us is Greek, the other a Gaul," Alexander grinned back. "Civis Romanus Sum, and all that."
Lucanus pulled ahead, his horse suddenly seeming nervous. "Do you hear anything?"
"Nope." Alexander glanced around. There was nothing to hear, and nothing to see. Everything seemed deserted. "Can't you go more than a day without getting paranoid?"
"I'm not getting paranoid. Just careful." The younger Immortal let his hand rest on his sword. He had been given back his cleaver war blade and it felt oddly comforting. "It pays to listen to the horses sometimes. They know things. If you listen, they will speak to you of danger."
"I know. But they're probably just as anxious as we are, that's all. They know we're nearly home, and they're looking forward to it. Nothing to worry about."
"I suppose." They rode on for a while, watching as the hills grew closer. The horses seemed to have settled down, no longer gripped by whatever anxieties had affected them earlier, and Alexander began to whistle; a low, dirge-like piece of music which he had heard on his travels. Lucanus scowled.
"You have dreadful tastes in music, dog," he commented. Alexander smiled.
"Just passing the time, Lucanus."
Lucanus only gave him a scowl at how much he disliked the name, but said no words, but Alexander grinned back.
"I’d rather they think you were a citizen rather than some barbarian. It works for you a little better." The older Immortal smirked. "Not that you really look like a Roman."
"And who says you do?"
"Me. You’re right," Alexander shook his head, faintly amused. "Gauls really blend in among Italians, don’t they? Come on, it’s just another city, full of mixed cultures like all those splendid Alexandrias.” Alexander gazed towards the hills, still a long way off. "Do you suppose anybody will remember where it was, when the world has moved on again?"
Before Lucanus could answer, Alexander continued on, "Who can tell? Cities come and go, you know that. No one knows which ones the storytellers will choose to speak about the longest. Mind you, the way they've been expanding recently, the world would be hard put to forget Rome."
"It's not so special." Lucanus had acquired an idle grin, which accentuated the mischief in his eyes. "I bet I could destroy a fair bit of it, if I really tried."
"I won't argue." Alexander tightened his grip on the reins as his horse began to toss its head nervously. "Damn this creature. What's wrong with it?"
"I don't know." Lucanus halted his mount and stood up in the stirrups, gazing about. He could see nothing, which did little to lessen his tension. Beneath him, his horse whinnied softly, scraping at the ground with its hoof.
"Trouble?" Alexander asked, letting his hand fall to his gladius. Lucanus nodded slowly, his instincts telling him that something was wrong, even though his eyes were denying it. "What do you think?"
"I think somebody is watching us." Lucanus drew his war blade, turning his horse about. He could still see nothing, but he could feel something, like a rigid tension in the air. "This ground is too hilly, brother. I don't like it."
"Good ambush territory, I know." Alexander drew his own gladius. "Do you want to try running?"
"Gauls don't run, dog." Lucanus narrowed his eyes, staring into the sun. It was dazzling him, and he felt sure that if an attack was going to come, it would come from that direction. That was how he would have attacked, if it were him hiding out there.
"No, they just get conquered." Alexander turned his horse around. "Come on, brother. There might not even be anyone to fight. I'd rather get back home, and spend the night in my own bed, rather than waiting up here for some bloodthirsty mountain thief. I'm not in the mood for getting my throat cut."
"Maybe you're right." Lucanus did not seem to have relaxed at all. Even the crude comment about Gauls didn’t shake him. Something was definitely wrong. "Okay, Ensis. You win." He turned his horse back towards Rome, his blade still in his hand. "We're more than a match for a bunch of bandits, if they choose to come after us."
"You can say that again." Alexander flashed his student a grin, turning his gladius blade about to return it to its sheath. Even as he was doing so, he heard the sound of approaching hooves.
"Lucanus!" He shouted the word loudly, but his companion was already alert, and was ready before he was. Swinging his horse about, the smaller Immortal leapt forward to the attack, meeting a brigade of some nine or ten horsemen riding towards them. His might meat cleaver of a blade slashed in a vicious arc, making short work of the lead attacker, but making the others only the more eager.
"Hold on, brother!" Riding into the fray with a shout of rage, Alexander knocked aside the man representing the most immediate risk to Lucanus' well-being. The mortal fell from his horse with a short scream, and Alexander spun to face the next attacker. A sixth sense that had saved his life for almost two and a half thousand years made him look up, disturbed by some sudden instinct, and he saw three men readying themselves on the ridge above his head.
"Look out!" Shouting the warning to Lucanus, he tried to bring his horse back, away from this new threat, but found himself entangled with several of the mounted attackers. He heard a bloodcurdling yell and lifted his sword, ready to impale anyone attempting to attack from above. A heavy blow caught his arm, and his weapon fell, vanishing beneath his horse's hooves.
"Ensis!" Alexander heard Lucanus' voice from somewhere far above him, as a mighty figure launched itself through space, knocking him from his horse. He was vaguely surprised that his companion should have remembered the alias, in the midst of all this madness and even more surprised that the Gaul had cared about his safety at all. The thoughts were torn from his mind by heavy hands grasping at his arms and he struggled furiously, desperate to break free. Above him, where the battle had continued to rage on horseback, the noises were lessening, and as his captors finally succeeded in dragging him to his feet, he saw Lucanus battling furiously against the grip of two men, both twice his size.
"You'll pay for this!" Alexander snapped, finally abandoning his attempts to pull free. He heard a rough laugh, then was spun about. A large man, dressed in merchant's clothes, was seated on a horse nearby. His hair was neatly cut in the style of the rich, and his horse alone proved his wealth. He was smiling at the scene before him.
"No, my friend. Somebody else will pay." He laughed to himself, clearly amused by this little joke. "In this business, it's always somebody else who foots the bill. Wouldn't you say?"
"Not this time." Alexander was aware that he cut a less than impressive figure just then, especially before a man as well groomed as this, and he struggled to bring his ragged breathing under control to restore some element of sophistication to his bearing. "We're Roman citizens, I am a soldier of the Legions, and you know the penalties for interfering with our passage. You could be executed."
"Could be, but won't." The merchant smiled disarmingly. "I am a Roman citizen as well; born and raised in that fair city. Nobody is going to accuse me of improper behaviour." His smile broadened. "Especially you, where you're going." He nudged his horse to make it ride closer. "Business has been slow. I have to take what advantages I can find. I can assure you that you'll be very well treated, so long as you behave yourselves." His eyes drifted over to Lucanus for a moment, lingering on the smaller captive. Cold rage glowed in the man's pale blue eyes, and the merchant felt a chill envelope him. Alexander felt the chill as well and knew there were seeds planted of something ruthless, perhaps more evil than the Kurgan himself, at that, he allowed a shudder to run through him.
"You've got to be kidding." Realization was dawning, but Alexander denied it, certain that he was getting the wrong idea. "Look, we're Romans, both of us. My name is Caedo Tiberius Ensis. My partner here is Lucanus Antonius Artagus. We have a farm just outside of--"
"I don't give a damn where your farm is." The merchant smiled at him, although his eyes glimmered with a harsh light that carried no suggestion of a smile. "You don't have a farm anymore. You can call yourselves whatever names you like, but from here on in, your citizenship is revoked." He nodded at his men, and Alexander felt his arms dragged behind his back. The bite of rope stung his wrists and he forced himself to relax, knowing only too well just how much it would hurt if he struggled now. Even with this minor damage control exercise, the rope still slipped as they wrapped it around his wrists, scraping the skin and burning painfully. Finally it was over, and he was released. He struggled briefly, to test the strength of his bonds, but found them unpleasantly effective.
"You won't get away with this," he hissed, his eyes glittering dangerously as he stared up at the merchant. "You can't do this to Roman citizens."
"I've done it before. Many of us try it when business is slow." The merchant made a brief gesture with his hand, then spun his horse about and headed off into the hills. Alexander felt a noose tighten around his neck, surprising him with its sudden presence. Beside him one of the horses began to walk onwards, and he felt the rope jerk about his throat, forcing him to follow on.
"Ensis…" Lucanus spoke in a low whisper, which warned his companion of the rage he was finding it hard to contain. "Tell me this isn't what it looks like."
"Steady, Lucanus." Alexander frowned, painfully conscious of the intermittent tightening of the rope around his neck. It hurt, and if they were in for a long walk, the pain was only going to get worse. It was making him angry, which could only mean that Lucanus was ready to explode.
"Steady?" The younger Immortal turned to look at the older, his ice-like blue eyes glittering unpleasantly. "I shall kill them, brother. Every last one of them."
Alexander could only shudder.
More to come.....
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