DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, especially not Highlander characters. I made this stuff up. I am very tired. My thanks go to Amand-r for everything good. You should alwaysbringatowlwherveryougoOhmygodI'msohighIgotnoideawhatsgoingon.
852 A.D.
Once upon a time, there was a young immortal named Amanda. She was not only young for an immortal, but she was young for a woman still. It had not been long at all since she had first felt an axe rend her back open, crushing the life from her, even as she clung to the loaf of bread that would have (had she been successful in stealing it), prolonged her ragged existence. You and I know what happened after, for the Lady Rebecca took her in. It is said, the Lady Rebecca was the kindest soul in that part of the world, in that time of history. Amanda was a far cry from her old existence now, living in luxury with a local noblewoman who had taken her in and become her teacher. Rebecca had a heart that was inordinately large, one capable of turning Amanda from a common thief into an ageless lady of grace. However, as we all know, it turned Amanda into an ageless thief of grace. Amanda's tutelage was long and not always very exciting, as she entered a world where riches and money were ubiquitous and boring. A part of her longed to be on the city streets again, and she often voiced this to Rebecca.
"What if someone recognizes you?" asked Rebecca, for the dead raise questions when they walk hale and healthy. Amanda had had no friends, and no one knew her, and she said so. She knew Rebecca would have no problem letting her out into town where she could stretch a little.
"I could go instead of the servants this time! I could take the horse, and the money and buy our food. I won't be playin' around," insisted Amanda.
"Are you sure you won't just sell the horse, take the money and I'll never see you again?" Some part of Amanda was genuinely hurt by this and she swore every oath she learned on the street that she'd bring back food and horse to the castle.
"Then be on your way, and come back by sunset," said Rebecca, "And be certain you do not lose the money, or the horse, and do NOT steal ANYTHING!"
Amanda barely heard the last part as she galloped off into town. When she got to the town, she saw many things and smelled many smells, and heard many sounds that she had not seen, smelled, or heard in a very long time. As she made her way to the food market, she thought about what she might steal, if she were to steal anything. But seeing the people made her a bit sad, for she, living in Rebecca's castle lived far better than the poor townsfolk. Certainly, she looked like an urchin of the streets still, but there was nothing really to steal from these folk that she could use. Morsels of food or a handful of coins were no longer anything she needed. Amanda sighed. Only something really grand would be even worth her effort. It was then that she heard a crone speaking to a vendor in his stall.
"Aye, magic they are," she said to the unconvinced vendor.
"Looks like a reg'lar acorn t'me."
"Oh it is a regular acorn, sonny. But it has a destiny, and so it is very valuable. Won't you please watch it for me?" said the crone, giving a sideways glance at Amanda on the horse. The vendor sighed and held out his hand.
"All right, ol'woman. In respect f'r the elderly, I'll watch yer bauble."
The crone giggled gleefully and rubbed her hands and ran from the store, and Amanda watched her leave. "Well now," said Amanda to herself, "I wonder'f I still got the fingers." She got off her horse, and crept up behind the stall. Well naturally, she was able to sneak behind the merchant, and naturally she put her delicate hand in his pocket while he didn't feel a thing. She snatched up the acorn quick as a rat, and was out of the stall before she could congratulate herself. She was just about the do so, in fact when she noticed her horse was gone! Down the street she should see the old woman riding it far into the distance cackling at the top of her lungs as the money-laden saddlebags bounced away.
Well Amanda cursed loud and long as she wandered back to Rebecca's castle on foot. Hours and hours later, she finally got there wondering just how in all the world she'd tell her teacher what she'd done. As she neared the castle, she looked up and she could see the dimly torch light window framing a pale, beautiful face that stared out into the night.
"Dammit!" cried Amanda, "Pox on you and your damned nuts!" and with that she threw the old crone's acorn against the wall. Then, as the castle gate opened, slowly and dreadfully, Amanda wondered lamely if Rebecca might lop off her head.
* * *
887 A.D.
The years passed after that, sometimes slow and sometimes fleeting. Amanda learned much in the home of her kind teacher; from Rebecca she gained skill, cunning, perseverance and love for life that was rare in those brutish times. It was good that they forged this bond together, for their first great trial was upon them.
It was in that time that Rolf theGanger invaded France. His Viking raiders swarmed up the Seine in their vicious dragon boats and filled the land like a raging flood. They had laid siege to Paris, snapping it up easily in their push. Indeed, King Charles himself had enlisted the Northmen's chief to conquer him all of France, promising Rolf riches and lands in return. Rebecca's castle, so small that it was not much more than a large manor, stood no chance against the oncoming armies. Sadly, neither did Amanda and Rebecca, who escaped the castle only to be slaughtered along with their servants far outside the walls.
Amanda was a cunning lass, and Rebecca an wise old woman, though young in body. But when they awoke on a pile of their servant's corpses they could do little but stare at their castle and weep. Norse soldiers all but owned it.
"We are lost," said Rebecca, all her ancient strength gone out of her, "I am sorry I could not protect you, Amanda. I have failed you, I think."
"Never! There was nothing you could have done, we can escape....we're alive, aren't we?"
"I cannot leave," stated Rebecca, staring at her former home. It was then that Amanda saw the hopelessness in her teacher's eyes. Rebecca, once regal and beautiful looked haggard and beaten. "I cannot leave," said the pale noblewoman, "Not without my magic stone. Were any mortal to possess it, or any immortal for that matter, then any mean man could rule as a god here. I have guarded it my entire life, and now I have let it fall in the hands of barbarians. You must go dearest Amanda, and escape. I am no teacher for you. I must stay here and find my stone."
And Amanda realized then just what the Methuselah stone meant to the woman who had borne her through her second birth. Her teacher had spent lifetimes guarding the treasure, knowing the power it held to make anyone unkillable. It was then that Amanda knew she could help Rebecca. For the first time, she would do something that her teacher needed.
"Easy as milking the cows," she said, and she was off back to the castle like the shadow of a bird at night. Rebecca didn't have a chance to say a thing.
When Amanda got to the castle, she easily evaded the guards who were walking around an unfamiliar building in the dead of night, with torches if they were lucky and moonlight if they were not. Amanda, on the other hand was on the land that was her home for near thirty years, and knew every rock. It had been a long time since she'd stolen anything, and stealing the Methuselah stone, that treasure of treasures was beginning to excite her greatly. Upon nearing the end of the west wall, she encountered a young oak that had grown over the years quite near the castle. It reached to a window, its branches touching close to the sill. Up Amanda went like a cat, and slowly but smoothly eased her lithe body into the tiny window. She padded down the silent hallway until she felt a withering nausea, and her head spun suddenly. A voice cried out in accented French into the dark, torchless corridor.
"I am Rollo called Rolf, and this is my castle! I sense your presence, I smell your blood, your head is mine!" Too late, Amanda realized, she had brought no weapon of any sort, so she ran fast and heard footsteps following her rapidly. Amanda ducked left into a room she knew would be Rebecca's and there, under the straw mattress of Rebecca's fine bed was a sturdy sharp sword that Rebecca used often.
Yet Amanda knew she could not afford to fight the Viking general and lose. Rebecca had taught her never to fight an opponent she knew nothing about. And so she dived out of Rebecca's window, mere seconds ahead of an enormous blond man with an axe.
Amanda's hard landing on the dirt below had cracked ribs, but she crawled her way back to Rebecca in the dead of night. There she found Rebecca, her tear-streaked face covered with dirt. In the first rays of dawn, she looked old after having buried all her servants and friends save her student. But her bright blue eyes grew even brighter when she saw Amanda held her sword.
"How did you get this? They could very well have taken your head in there!"
"'Twas no trouble at all," said Amanda, spending most of her energy in the embrace that her teacher gave her. "But the Northmen's chief is immortal," warned Amanda, "and he sensed I was there."
"You must not go back. I know Rollo, and he is a vicious fighter. He's an enormous man Amanda, and I know you are quite a fighter, but he is more than a match for you or I."
But Amanda just smiled her mischievous smile and promised her teacher the Methuselah stone.
The next night, Amanda climbed upon the young oak once again. Its branches swayed in the wind rocking her gently back and forth. Almost immediately upon entering the tiny window she heard a gruff accented voice, and felt the dizzying presence of another.
"I sense your presence, I smell your blood, your head is mine!"
This time, Amanda stepped aside and did not move.
"I'll find you!" the voice cried again. The edges of torch light crept into Amanda's vision, telling of someone just around the corner. Amanda crouched to her knees, and as the huge Viking turned into her corridor, he tripped over her smallish body and landed face first on the pavement. Amanda's pommel quickly followed into the back of his head.
"Hmmph. Easy as getting a babe to cry," declared Amanda. She decided she could not afford a quickening with all the Viking horde around. She crept to Rebecca's small keep in the center of the castle. The treasures were still there, locked inside, and guarded well by the Norsemen. Still, they never even saw Amanda's feline approach until she was right in front of them. They did not even react as she dispatched them. Finally, her hands lay on the elegant jewel that was Rebecca's most prized possession. Amanda savored it a moment, and then quick as a bee, was out the way she came.
She had only just begun her climb down the young oak tree, when suddenly the tree shuddered and she looked up to see Rollo himself struggling to stand on the branch above her.
"I'll have that head!" he cried, but Amanda had no fear now. She was clever and began crawling out on to the edge of a branch. The barrel-chested Viking began to follower her further and further until the sickening realization came to him, that he was now setting his weight far out on a branch that could never have hoped to support him on its best day. With a CRACK the two immortals fell into the hard dirt at the foot of the tree.
Or rather, Rollo fell on the dirt. Amanda fell on to Rollo, and merely stood up, dusted herself off, and ran into the night as fast as her feet could carry her.
When Amanda came back, Rebecca only had to look at her beaming smile to know that she had succeeded.
"Thank you, child. Why, I could not have done what you did! Still, I can no longer teach you anything more- not because I have failed, but because you have succeeded." Rebecca said. Amanda beamed with pride, and as the dawn rose above their former home, they walked down the road to the next part of their story.