by Anne
Disclaimer: The characters of Daniel Jackson, Jack O’Neill, Sam Carter, Teal’c, General Hammond, Janet Frasier, Apophis and anybody else you recognise from the SGC do not belong to me. Neither does the concept of the Stargate, SGC, and the Goa’uld and any thing else related to the series Stargate SG1. They belong to Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Products.
The characters of Methos (a.k.a. Adam Pierson), Joe Dawson, Connor MacLeod and Duncan MacLeod belong to Panzer/Davis, Rysher/Gaumont Television. So do the concepts of Immortality, the Game and the Watchers.
Likewise the characters of Adam Newman, Megabyte Damon, General William Damon, Ami Jackson, Jade Weston, Kevin Wilson or any names or events linked to the Tomorrow People TV series do not belong to me either. They are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra and ITV Television.
Egypt 1353 BC
Methos stood in front of the small window, looking out across the Nile Valley. From where he was he could see what he presumed, from this distance, were hippos swimming in the river. He strained his eyes to read the symbols on the many boats sailing past, but he was too far away to make out any details.
One thing you could certainly rely on in Egypt, he thought to himself, was the heat. Even though painting the house white was supposed to reflect the sun, it was still just as uncomfortably hot inside as it was out. He let his mind drift back to the last time he had been here, as he reached for his cup to take another sip of wine.
Suddenly there was a loud popping noise and a flash of bright light. Methos jumped and automatically reached for his sword, as the young girl materialised in front of him “I will never get used to that, it doesn’t matter how long I live,” he exclaimed.
“Sorry, Methos,” apologised Neret. She was a young girl, in her mid to late teens, very attractive with long, dark hair, and softly spoken. Her job in the royal household was that of companion to the Queen, though there were rumours that she was also very close, in more ways than one, to the boy king himself. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Can I help you clean up the mess?”
Methos shook his head, and bent over to wipe up the spilled wine. “Don’t worry, Neret,” he said. “I suppose it makes up for the feeling you and Tutankhamun get when I approach you without being noticed.” The feeling the two Tomorrow People, as they called themselves, had described reminded him of the feeling he got from the approach of another immortal. After much discussion they had decided it must have something to do with the storehouse of energy from all the quickenings he had received over his long lifespan.
Neret laughed, and Methos noticed again how animated her face was when she did so. He felt sorry for her, surely she was aware of all the gossip that surrounded Tutankhamun and herself. It was a situation that was unlikely to change as well, as the two of them could hardly tell the general population the real reason why they spent so much time together. When Neret had become a Tomorrow Person, the king had recognised her as one of his own kind, and had installed her in the royal household.
Neret started to say something to the immortal and paused. Her eyes glazed over and Methos could tell that she was mindspeaking to the young Pharaoh. After a few minutes, she turned to him, looking very worried.
“The high priest, Ramiis, has Tutankhamun’s wife. He says we have offended his god Apophis and must die. Quick, Methos, you must help them. Here, take my hand and I will take you there.”
Methos reached out his hand hesitantly, and closed his eyes. The only thing worse than being surprised by people who disappear and reappear out of thin air, is when they take you along for the journey, he thought to himself. Teleportation, as they called it, was another thing he was finding it hard to get used to. The two Tomorrow People had told him that to them it came as naturally as breathing.
Methos still wondered why they trusted him so much. He supposed it was because they knew his secret, as he knew theirs. He remembered the day they had met. He had been standing in the crowd watching Tutankhamun pass by with his royal entourage. Someone had tried to kill the young ruler and Methos, without thinking, he still wasn’t sure why, had thrown himself in front of the shower of arrows and saved the boy king’s life.
He had come back to life in the Pharaoh’s own chamber, and was surprised to find that young Tutankhamun and his friend Neret didn’t seem at all surprised. They had told him that they could sense he was different and were sure he had come to fulfil the prophecy. As he listened to them, he noticed there was some look in their eyes that told him that there was something different about them, but he hadn’t realised how different until they explained to him what they were.
Apparently a wise woman had come to the Pharaoh in a dream not long after he had developed his powers and told him that a man with an old soul would come and be protector to him and his kind. Methos had been very sceptical about this, until the two youngsters had demonstrated their powers to them. They seemed to trust him and were convinced that he was their protector. Now, a few months later, he counted them as good friends and was enjoying his stay in the royal court. Tutankhamun had also covered up the fact that he had died while saving him and told his people that Methos’ injuries had not been as severe as they had first looked.
Tutankhamun hoped that Neret would bring their protector, Methos, soon. He had thought of trying to get close enough to his wife to teleport her away, but so far had not had the opportunity. Ramiis had accused them of acting against his lord, Apophis, and didn’t want to listen to anything the boy king said in his own defence. He kept saying that Apophis would take revenge on him and his kind. Obviously he knew then, about the existence of the Tomorrow People, Tutankhamun hoped he hadn’t shared the information with others. As he listened to the ravings of the priest he wondered again what sort of a god would give him powers that he could not use to kill others in order to defend himself and his loved ones.
Ramiis fell silent as he felt the telltale buzz that warned him that another immortal was close by. He pulled Ankhesenpaaten closer towards him, pressing the blade of his sword against her throat, and turned to her young husband. “Tell whoever is out there to come out, or I will kill your wife. I know she cannot disappear into thin air as you can, and I am sure you cannot move fast enough to save her. Any tricks and her death will be very slow and very painful.”
A tall slim man moved out of the shadow of the pyramids, before Tutankhamun had a chance to speak. Methos shivered in the hot sunlight in spite of himself. The pyramids themselves made him feel very uneasy. He wasn’t sure why; it was as though there was something almost unearthly about them. Surely he was above believing the local superstitions, he chided himself. After all he had seen many such beliefs come and go over the years.
“I am Methos,” he said. “Let her go, she is young and not one of us. Are you hiding behind children now? “
Ramiis pushed the young girl towards her husband. He motioned to the large man who always seemed to follow a short distance behind. Methos noticed the strange gold symbol on the man’s forehead. The man bowed his head towards the priest.
“Jaffa,” said Ramiis. “Watch these children. Soon we will take them to our god, Apophis, and offer them to him as hosts. When I have defeated their so called protector and taken his head, I will join you.”
The Jaffa drew his weapon, a strange looking metal staff, and herded the two young people towards the pyramid. Neret watched from her hiding place, behind a date palm, and waited to see what would happen next. She noticed that the Jaffa was making sure that Ankhesenpaaten had no physical contact with her husband. Obviously he was aware of their teleportation capabilities.
Methos drew his own sword. This man is crazy, all this talk about gods. He seems to think that Apophis really exists.
“You’re still a child yourself,” he goaded as he lunged at the other immortal, his sword gleaming in the bright sunlight.
Ramiis roared in anger, as his sword swung up to block Methos’ attack. “You will die, for your actions against my lord Apophis.”
Methos was surprised at the strength of the other man’s sword arm. He lunged again, noting with satisfaction that he had drawn blood. Not as good as you think you are, priest, he thought to himself.
Suddenly Ramiis threw dirt in Methos’ eyes, temporarily blinding his vision. He involuntarily took a step backwards, and lost his footing. The other man’s shadow loomed over him, momentarily blocking out the sun from his limited vision. Obviously the other immortal wasn’t going to fight fair, thought Methos. He should have expected something like this. Two can play at that game he thought to himself.
As Ramiis swung his sword, ready to deliver the final blow, he drew a small dagger and plunged it into the other mans chest. Ramiis gave him a look of utter surprise and dropped his sword in the dirt. Edging closer, Neret used her telekinetic powers to shift it out of his reach. “Jaffa,” he yelled, “Save me!”
“Goodbye, Ramiis. It doesn’t look like your god, or anyone else, is going to save you after all.” Methos brought his sword down, slicing off his opponent’s head with one clean swoop, and waited.
He dropped onto his knees as he felt the full force of the quickening. As bolt after bolt of lightening hit him he was dimly aware of someone moving in behind him, but he was in no position to do anything about it. When it had finished, he got shakily to his feet, just in time to be hit by a blast of what felt like lightening. He heard Tutankhamun yell “No!” and then the blackness engulfed him.
Methos came to, feeling the sudden intake of breath that usually accompanied his return to life. He could hear the sound of the river Nile close by, and could hear the splash of what sounded like some animal playing in the water. He leaned back in the long grass and opened his eyes. To his surprise the moon was high in the sky, and it was night. Tutankhamun, his wife Ankhesenpaaten, and Neret were standing over him.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Ramiis’ bodyguard shot you with a strange weapon while you were recovering from the,” the boy king stumbled over the strange word, “quickening. I managed to teleport you away before he was able to take your head. It is not safe for you here now, Methos. You have protected us and fulfilled the prophecy. It is time for you to move on.” He looked at the immortal with what seemed like sadness in his eyes.
Methos opened his mouth to argue and then shut it again. He could see the point the young Pharaoh was making. If he stayed his life would be in danger. He would leave for now, and maybe return in a few months when it became safe for him to do so. After all, he would not be able to protect them if he were dead.
“I owe you my life.” Methos bowed his head toward the young Pharaoh. “I will leave for a time, but will return when I am able. If there is ever any way I can be of service to you or your kind, I will be there for you.”
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