The slightly less than musical sound of Duncan's singing reached their ears as they entered the living room. Catriona grinned wryly.
"You might want to take over singing duty from Caruso in there." She said to Joe.
"Sure, no problem, but aren't you going to sing again?"
"Not just yet Joe, first I want to check out my theory about Cassandra, then I need to shut her out if she really is messing with Methos' head. Only then will I sing him to sleep."
They tossed their coats on the sofa and made for the bathroom. Duncan was still perched on the edge of the vanity unit singing. Methos was curled in a tight ball between the toilet and the wall, his head almost under the flush pipe. He was breathing fast and shallow, twitching and moaning slightly but no longer howling or wailing. Catriona went to kneel next to the oldest immortal. She nodded to Joe.
"OK Joe your turn, Duncan you can stop now."
With relief Duncan ceased his song whilst Joe began with one of his favourites.
"Hush a bye
Don't you cry
Go to sleep
My little baby.
When you wake
You shall have
All the pretty little horses.
Blacks and Bays
Dapples and Greys
All the pretty little horses."
As he continued Catriona closed her eyes and reached out her hand to touch Methos' head. He twitched a little, but made no further protest as she began to search his mind - entering his nightmare she began the battle to bring him back to the present.
She was kneeling beside him. He lay on the floor in a small, bare room. She could tell that this was Methos but he was much younger even than during her last dream, just ten years old her mind told her. He was covered in blood, his tunic torn, and he was shivering and whimpering. He had a split lip and his right eye was swollen shut. Her horror almost made her pull back from contact but she stoically withstood the initial rush of unwelcome fear, aware that it was Methos' fear rather than her own. She began searching for a trace of Cassandra within the room, feeling that she was there even if not yet visible to her. Finally she summoned all her energy and probed her surroundings and Methos' mind to the uttermost depths. And There! At last. The confirmation she had been seeking. Cassandra was seated in the lotus position - a dimly projected figure of not much substance - but enough to influence her victim Catriona thought. Pursing her lips she stood and moved to shield Methos. She raised on arm in Cassandra's direction, palm upward. Then she spoke.
"Depart from this place and cease your meddling. I banish you from here. Henceforth you will have no dominion over this man. Duineadh an doras." (The door will be closed.)
Cassandra's image flickered but her voice came back clearly. "I hear you Ollamh and must of necessity obey, but that which I have already wrought is not so easily undone."
"Rach feumaidh tu." (You must leave, begone) Catriona commanded, and she summoned up her mental forces to prepare to push Cassandra from the field of the vision if she should try to resist.
Cassandra's features twisted in pain and she shrieked as her image began to dissolve slowly. Too slowly for Catriona's liking. Angrily she thrust forward with her inner spirit and mentally slapped Cassandra. The resulting scream echoed in Catriona's head but the hateful image was gone at last.
Breathing a sigh of relief she returned her attention to the young Methos. She would have to work fast but carefully to bring him back from this memory without causing him further pain and anguish. She stooped over him and placed one hand on his shoulder.
"Meli-mateos, hush now. Don't cry, no one else will hurt you." She murmured soothingly, stroking his head softly. "Come Meli, let us leave this place. It is no longer your home. It is time to leave it behind you and return to those who love you."
Methos turned his head towards her. His face a bloody pulp, his eyes overflowing with tears. "Are you come to take me home? " He whispered pitifully.
"Yes my love that is why I am here. Take my hand and come with me." Catriona said gently as she held out a hand to him. The child who was Methos stood, giving her one hand and wiping away his tears with the other.
"Master Denius will be angry if I am not ready for supper, " he said, "and Parinedes said he would be coming back for me soon."
The last memory sent a shudder through his slight frame and his knees threatened to give way under him. Parinedes. Her link with Methos' memory told her that this was the man who had so badly beaten the young boy when he had resisted as he forced him to submit to the sexual act. 'He's just a child for God's sake, only ten years old. What kind of monster does that to a child?' Her blood boiled at the thought of Parinedes actions, she knew that had she been able to she would have killed the overseer for his treatment of the helpless boy before her. That first act of rape visited on him was repeated by Parinedes and so many others time and time again over five thousand years. That she was powerless to prevent any of this made the anger inside her well up to almost unmanageable proportions, threatening to overwhelm her. She fought hard to control it.
She knelt again beside Methos and enfolded him in her embrace. He leaned wearily on her shoulder and she gently stroked his back. He hissed and stiffened in pain as her hand brushed against the open wounds beneath his tunic, wounds caused by Parinedes' belt. She ceased moving her hand, horrified that she had unwittingly been the cause of adding to his discomfort.
"Oh Meli! I am so sorry." She said, mortified. "I did not mean to hurt you."
He raised his head and looked rather sadly through his one good eye. "It is of no matter mistress." He replied flatly. "I am only a slave, you may do as you wish with me."
"No Meli, that is not so. I am not your mistress. You do not belong to me or to anyone else. You are a person in your own right and this is not your home. Nor is this now where you are meant to be. Come with me and return to your home and your friends. As she spoke she moved her hands to frame his face. "Close your eyes my lamb," she said, "and concentrate on my voice."
He did as she bade him and she began to sing, rocking back and forth in time with the rhythm. The warmth of the melody gradually drew them both in and she felt the empty cell of a room dissolve around them until they were once more in Joe's bathroom, Methos with his head upon her shoulder - sound asleep and quite unmarked save for the line of blood from his head wound. The cut had now closed and the blood dried she noted thankfully. She looked at Joe and Duncan. They were both staring at her open mouthed.
"Come on guys, give me a hand here. Let's get him onto the sofa or into the bedroom." She urged.
Duncan blinked. "What in heaven's name was that?" He asked.
Sighing Catriona looked to Joe for help, but he seemed as fazed as Duncan. "Please. We can talk about it later. Let's get him cleaned up and comfortable first."
Duncan looked at the oldest immortal resting on Catriona's shoulder and realised that even as slight as he was his extra height must make it a strain for her to hold him in that position. "Sorry." He said sheepishly." Here let me carry him."
"The sofa is the nearest.' Joe said to Duncan as he moved to fetch towels and a basin. "There's a rug still on the chair you slept on he added to Catriona.
Duncan easily cradled the lax form of Methos against him and bore him into the lounge. Catriona arranged cushions to pillow Methos' head and gently covered him with the rug.
"I'll make coffee." She said.
Duncan grasped her by the wrist. "Just a minute. "He said. "What on earth happened? I've never seen or heard anything like it. What did you do?"
Catriona went rigid. She held her breath and her eyes looked wildly up at Duncan. "If you'll let me go I'll make coffee and then I'll explain. First we need to wait for Methos to wake. Please Duncan," she pleaded, "let me go."
She was shaking and all the colour had drained from her face he noticed. He relaxed his grip on her wrist but he did not let go. Rather, he put his free arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.
"What is it Catriona? Is something wrong?" His voice was strong and level. His face was full of concern.
She began to sweat and struggled to control herself. If he didn't let go soon she would start to scream and she didn't want to show him how terrified she was of his genuinely offered touch of support. He meant to comfort her she knew, but instead she was beginning to feel an attack of hysteria rising within her.
"Please," she begged, her voice a whisper, "please just leave me be, please.....oh please Duncan...........Please!"
She had begun to sound so desperate that he let his arms fall back to his sides.
"I'm sorry Catriona. I didn't mean to upset you. Are you all right? You look awful. Here, sit down a minute." He gestured to the footstool beside the sofa.
She shook her head and passed an hand across her face. "N no ...no." She said shakily. "It's OK. I'm OK. I'm all right. I just need a wee bit time to mysel. I'm right sorry if I scair'd ye Donnchadh. I'm fine really."
Indeed her cheeks were now flushed with colour again, but her eyes seemed unnaturally bright Duncan thought. However he was anxious not to distress her further by mentioning it.
"OK then," he acquiesced, "you go and make coffee and Joe and I will clean up. Then we'll wait for Methos to rejoin the land of the living."
<
> She nodded, gratefully. "He'll be awake in about fifteen minutes or so." She said as she left the room.
Cassandra was spitting with fury. She had stormed back into the living room of the house she and her cohort had rented and given all four of the occupants the fright of their lives.
"Dolt! Imbeciles! Why did I think I could entrust even the simplest of tasks to you?" She shrieked at them. Her hair, having fallen from it's clip, hung in wild disarray around her shoulders and her face was red with rage.
"I told you to call me if anything out of the ordinary occurred, and what do you do? Ignore everything I told you and fall asleep on the job."
At this last she slapped one of the men who had indeed closed his eyes briefly.
Having all been subject to her anger and victims of her vengeance in the past, not one of the men sought to fight back or to argue with her. They knew all too well that any attempt to deny responsibility, or to plead mitigating circumstances, would only result in harsher retribution - so they bore the tongue lashing Cassandra meted out meekly and prayed that at this point she would not seek to punish any of them further.
Pushing past the man she had slapped, she pulled the headphones from their socket and switched the speaker back to transmitting into the small room.
"I should have known better than to trust men to do anything of importance, especially mortals." She spat out. "If you want a job doing properly do it yourself."
The speaker relayed the last exchanges between Catriona and Duncan. As she listened Cassandra's expression changed from a scowl to a smug grin. 'So' She thought. 'I may have a line even to you Ollamh! "
In order to know the best way to defeat your enemy, first find the easiest way to cause them pain. She hardly remembered the time that Kronos had taught her this. It seemed appropriate somehow to be using that knowledge now.