|Towards The Fourth Servile War
Author: R.J. Bingham PM
Highlander meets Spartacus Blood And SandRated: Fiction K+ - English - Sci-Fi/Drama - Duncan & Spartacus - Chapters: 7 - Words: 11,488 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 07-17-11 - Published: 07-04-10 - id: 6110213
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer : Highlander is owned by Panzer/Davis.
I would like to thank my good friend Fanlass for beta reading and adding some much needed sparkle to this story. She has also written Chapter 7 as a welcome and refreshing finish to the story. I would highly recommend visiting her stories, The Doppelganger, Methos Passion and The Original Good Time Girl.
Not Such a Chance Meeting
Location: Isolated centuries old Coaching Inn several Miles South of York England.
MacLeod was lost in thought as the taxi stopped at the entrance to the Inn. The rain had been relentless during the twenty minute journey, the driver's silence, just as relentless, but welcome, it had given him time to reflect on the reason for his visit to this place, a place he hadn't seen for close to two hundred years.
On going through the main arched doorway the reception area was slightly off to the right, which was no more than a small office desk with a round bell, and a sign that hung on the wall, almost as big as the desk proclaiming, RECEPTION.
MacLeod was about to ring the bell when a short, middle aged, slightly balding man approached saying, "can I help you sir".
"Yes, I have a reservation my name is…"
"Mr. Duncan MacLeod", the middle aged man said rapidly.
"Aye that's right, do you know all your guests names before they tell you, or was that just a lucky guess?"
"No sir, there is only one other guest with a reservation and he arrived this afternoon, if you would like to sign the register please, you are in room number 3 just at the top of the stairs and to the right. I will take your luggage to your room, when you are ready." The middle age desk clerk replied.
As MacLeod reached the stairs the familiar, eerie, sense of the presence of another immortal crept over him. He paused only briefly and continued to make his way up the creaky old staircase. A figure appeared from the left as MacLeod placed his foot on the final stair, their eyes met, in a micro second, each assessed if the other was with sword and ready for Combat.
"My apologies if I startled you Mr…?"
"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, no apology necessary, Mr.?" Mac said as he stared at the solidly built man with short cropped hair sizing him up. This Immortal had a strong chin a pleasant face but sad eyes. He was wearing a large sweater hiding what Mac thought was a muscular physique. He certainly did not look like an immortal to toy with. Spending time with Methos had taught Mac a thing or two; one was how to recognize the presence of an old immortal. Two was to never jump to judgment on the abilities of any immortal especially anyone who might be a thousand years older than himself. Mac could tell by the other immortal body movements that they were almost fluid, he moved with grace and swiftness. Yes he could quite possibly be an old immoral.
"Spiros Trapsascu at your service, I would ask that you please join me in a drink, at your convenience of course?"
"Thank you I will be with you in about ten minutes. I just need to settle in to my room first" Mac answered." After Mac washed up and put on a clean shirt he was ready to have that drink with the mysterious and mannerly Mr. Trapsascu. Why was there only two guests with reservations, and both immortals, in this out of the way Inn? Could it be coincidence? Was Mr. Trapsascu the man who sent the letter? What was the reason for his being here? These were just some of the questions whirling through Mac's Mind, as he made his way back down to the bar.
Rising from his seat at the bar Trapsascu walked towards MacLeod, right hand extended in a gesture of greeting. In his left hand a cigarette, Macleod took the offered hand and was surprised at the vice like grip of the slightly smaller man. Looking at the cigarette Macleod said
"I hope you know those things will kill you" Mac teased his new drinking partner.
Trapsascu let out a thunderous laugh at the irony of the comment. "What would you care to drink Mr. MacLeod?"
"Single malt straight and please call me Duncan!"
The Barmaid smiled at both men flirting a bit as she took their orders, Mac always smiled back at the pretty girl but his new acquaintance just looked away wishing nothing to do with the barmaid's attention.
"Thank you I will, I am Spiros." Drinks in hand both men moved to a table out of earshot of the barmaid.
"Tell me Spiros I got a strange letter and since we are the only two of our kind here I thought perhaps it was you who sent it? But then again it could not be because it was sent by a ML Crasswell."
"Duncan we are both here by the request of the same man, for I also received a letter." Spiros shook his head, he didn't like this news. "I did not send you the letter and it would appear we are seeking the same Castus for very different reasons. May I see your letter?"
MacLeod looked questioningly as he handed over the letter for Spiros to read.
October, 18th, 1999
Dear Mr. MacLeod,
I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at the White Rose Coaching Inn Yorkshire, England, a place I know you have stayed at in the past. There is also a plane ticket reserved under your name at JFK International airport. You may be asking yourself why you should make this journey at the request of a stranger. The answer to your question is that the woman you loved Tessa Noel, and who was taken from you in October 1993, was killed deliberately by the order of an immortal by the name of Castus. I will make arrangements to have the whereabouts of Castus given to you during your stay at the White Rose. The room is reserved for three nights starting the 28th October.
M. L. Crasswell
Handing the letter back Spiros shook his head and said, "I do not understand what Castus wants of you? But Duncan he is very capable of doing exactly what is stated in that letter. He is a dangerous man who I would not wish his attention to fall on any immortal."
MacLeod could feel anger beginning to well up inside, the thoughts of the deliberate murder of Tessa; the one woman in over four hundred years he had chosen to marry, was turning to an unimaginable rage. Turning to Spiros he knew he needed to get some fresh air before his emotions exploded. Mac had been hoping it was all a hoax but Spiros indicated everything in the letter was true.
"I am sorry Spiros I need some fresh air, it was a long flight" Mac said as he angrily stuffed the letter back in to his pocket.
"Of course, I will see you in the morning" Spiros didn't smile but put his hand on Duncan shoulder offering a boon of friendship. Mac looked Spiros in the eyes where the two men shared a glimmer of both pain and rage that reflected back at each other. Then Mac nodded and left the bar as he headed out. It was still pouring with rain, he wasn't even concerned, grabbing a coat, was the furthest thing from his mind.
Spiros grabbed Mac's coat, only because he knew it must conceal the Highlander's sword in it and tossed it to the tall Scott just as he passed through the threshold. "I wouldn't walk around unarmed" Spiros said as he raised his eyebrows.
"Thanks" Mac choked out then disappeared in to the rain.
Spiros sat back down and finished his drink. Memories of his own long lost love washed over his mind as he thought about how MacLeod must be feeling and wondered what Castus was up to.
End of Chapter 1