[Motorcycle ^A pulls up, stops, RR gets off, goes to locked gate. Sign on gate reads: E-Z STORE / OPEN DAILY 9AM-9PM]

RR - Damn it. [senses 'buzz', grabs sword from motorcycle] I'm Richie Ryan.

Messenger - Don't be afraid, Richie Ryan.

RR - No? What makes you think I'm scared?

<Messenger - I just want to talk. CUT

RR - About what? The weather? Monday Night Football?

Messenger - Peace.

RR - Oh, hey, buddy. Totally. [takes one hand off his sword briefly to flash a peace sign] It's a good line, pal, but no dice.>

Messenger - I swear you're in no danger. I stopped taking heads long ago. I'm not even armed.

RR - [circles him, sword up] Come on, buddy. You know the drill. Everyone carries a sword. Everyone takes heads. We fight or we die.

Messenger - That's what we were taught. But what if we could end the fighting? Imagine. What if all Immortals could live in peace? Real, eternal peace?

RR - Who are you?

Messenger - I am... the oldest of us living still. I am Methos. It's up to you, Richie Ryan. [kneels] You can take my head... or you can think about what I said.
 

[DM ^B crouches on pier, examining the sailboat.]

Harry - I thought your friend was a-coming.

DM - Yeah. Richie gets here when he gets here. You're right about her, Harry. She has got good lines... but she's going to need a major refit.

Harry - A-yep.

DM - Yeah. She'll need new rigging, the engine's taken salt, and she's probably got rot below the waterline. She's not worth fifty thousand. She's not even worth forty thousand.

Harry - Nope.

DM - What'd you bring me down here for?

Harry - Because... she'll go for twenty.

DM - [chuckles] Oh, I might've known it. You're an old goat. [senses 'buzz', sees Culbraith nearby]

Harry - So, do you want her?

DM - I'll be right back, Harry.

[Super: Georgia, 1864]

DM - [voice-over] I'd been running slaves through the Underground Railway for a couple of years, helping them escape north to freedom. I'd promised Jeffrey we'd get him past Confederate lines so he could join his future bride, who I'd already led to safety in Philadelphia.

Confederate soldier #1 - [in distance] Move along. Let's go!

Confederate soldier #2 - [in distance] We're gonna check out the field over here.

DM - [to Jeffrey, hushed] Come on.

Confederate soldier #1 - [in distance] Spread out. We'll get him. We'll get him. Over there!

DM - [tosses canteen to Jeffrey] Get going! [raises gun]

Jeffrey - No! Don't! [jumps toward DM as soldiers shoot at him]

Soldiers - Hold it right there. Don't move now, boy. We got him! We got him over here! I'll shoot you! I swear I will.

Confederate soldier - [to group of captured Union soldiers (plus DM & Jeffrey)] Move it along, all of y'all.

DM - [helping Jeffrey walk] Easy, Jeffrey.

Confederate soldier - Go on, move it along. Keep moving.

Jeffrey - My leg's shot up pretty bad. I don't think I can make it.

DM - It's all right, Jeffrey. We'll get you to a doctor as soon as we get there.

Jeffrey - Aaah! [collapses]

Hickson - Get on your feet, boy!

DM - The bullet shattered his leg. He can't walk.

Hickson - Well, then you carry him, or he stays here. [points rifle at Jeffrey]

DM - [shields Jeffrey with his body] No!

Hickson - If you ride with the devil, you fry with the devil.

DM - [pulls Jeffrey up] Jeffrey, come on. Come on. Up, up, up.

Hickson - Now get going. [kicks Jeffrey's crutch away] And tell that slave he'd better hurry. ^C

Jeffrey - [as DM half-carries him along] We don't belong here, Mr. MacLeod. We ain't even soldiers.

DM - It's all right, Jeffrey. You stay close to me. I'll take care of you. ^D >

[View ^E from stockade wall of inmates milling about inside.]

[Super: Andersonville Prison, 1864]

Confederate soldier - Come on, now. Move it up. Move it up, boys. Keep walking now. Keep walking.

Confederate soldier - Get going there. Move it!

[Guards open the prison's stockade gates as the line of Union prisoners approaches.]

Confederate soldier - Don't you look at me, boy!

Confederate soldier - Move on, now!

Hickson - Welcome to hell, boys.

Confederate soldiers - Away from the gate. Get away from the gate. Let's go. Get in there. Come on now. Don't be eyeballing me! Stay back. Come on! You stay back. ^F Come on, now. Move it! Yeah, get up there! Get back! Get back! Get back there.

[The union prisoners, DM, & Jeffrey all make their way through crowds of Union soldier prisoners held there.]

Inmante - What's happening {up} there?

Greenwell - Sweet Jesus.

Confederate soldier - Back off! ^G

Inmate - He's got water! Give me that! [tries to grab Jeffrey's canteen. DM pushes him away.]

Greenwell - God help me. These are Union soldiers.

DM - They were.

Greenwell - [to Inmate] Who's in charge of this hellhole? Speak up, soldier.

Confederate soldier - Step back.

DM - [senses 'buzz'] I think we're about to find out.

Confederate soldier - Attention, fellas.

Culbraith - You have been warned!

Confederate soldiers - Get back. Move back. Get back. Get it back, boy. Get it back, now. Shut your mouth! Move ^H back.

Culbraith - There is no escape from Andersonville. It is futile. It is suicidal -- for those that try and for others. What I do now is on your heads, not mine. Sergeant Hickson.

Hickson - Yes, sir!

Culbraith - Select three men.

Hickson - [pointing] You! You!

Confederate soldier - [pulls inmate from crowd] Come on.

Hickson - [pointing] And you!

Culbraith - You know the rules! For every one that tries to escape, three others die! [as inmates react] Silence! Silence!

DM - Yeah, well, that's murder!

Culbraith - No one questions my authority here. [points at DM] Bring him to my quarters.

[Guard escorts DM away, leaving Jeffrey on the ground behind them.]

Confederate soldier - Move it along. Move it along.

Union prisoners - You can't do that!

Confederate soldier - Come on, now.

Union prisoners - We're Union ^I soldiers!

Confederate soldier - Stay right there. Stay back. Stay back, boy. Stay back. [Stockade gates are closed.]

Guard - Hold it right there, or I'll shoot you where you stand.

[Culbraith, sitting at his desk, picks up small bifold picture frame. ¹ Close ^J on photos of a woman & a young boy. Culbraith senses 'buzz', puts sword on desk, hears knock at door.]

Culbraith - Come in. [Sergeant Hickson enters, salutes.] Thank you, Sergeant. [Hickson pulls DM into room.] Colonel William Everett Culbraith.

DM - Duncan MacLeod.

Culbraith - Have a seat, sir.

[Hickson pushes him in front of Culbraith's desk.]

DM - I'll stand.

Culbraith - I'm guessing that you're an abolitionist, MacLeod. It may surprise you to learn that I, myself, harbor ill feelings towards the institution of slavery. Matter of fact, on my farm just outside of Atlanta, my wife and I have no slaves of our own.

DM - Really? But you have Andersonville.

Culbraith - You don't approve of my prison.

DM - Prison? This is not a prison. It's a slaughterhouse.

Culbraith - It's all slaughter, MacLeod. What they do. What we do. I've seen more death in this war than I'd see in a dozen lifetimes. I'm sick of war. Theirs and ours. But I'm a soldier, sir, and I have my orders.

DM - Do your orders tell you to treat these men like animals?

Culbraith - If they behave like animals, it's because of the way they treat each other. No discipline, no honor. They kill each other for a crust of bread.

DM - Because they're starving. These men are soldiers. They demand respect.

Culbraith - These soldiers are destroying the South! My South! And the truth is, I have nothing to feed them. Times are hard. My own troops are on half rations. What would you have me do?

DM - For a start, I'd spare those men you're about to have killed.

Confederate soldier - [offscreen, outside] Move it along, here. Line it up right along the fence. Come on. We don't have all day.

Culbraith - [sighs] I can't afford mercy.

Confederate soldiers - [offscreen, outside] Move along. Move along! Let's go!

Culbraith - I let one escape attempt go unpunished, discipline breaks down. Without discipline, we descend into chaos. And I will not suffer chaos under my command.

[Outside the window, four Confederate soldiers take aim at four Union prisoners.]

DM - They're not animals, they're soldiers!

[The soldiers fire their guns. The prisoners fall to the ground.]

DM - [leans over Culbraith's desk] Killing them won't stop others from trying to escape!

Culbraith - [grabs up sword, points it at DM] I don't like killing, MacLeod, but I will if I have to.

DM - [as Hickson pulls him out of the room] Wait! I need to talk to him about a doctor. I need to talk to him about a doctor!

[DM & Culbraith are in the middle of swordfight. DM attacks with determined focus. He guts Culbraith, raises his sword overhead.]

RR - [runs up to them] Mac! Don't do it!

[DM glances over at RR. Culbraith uses his distraction to roll off the dock into the water, escaping. DM turns to face RR.]

RR - Just give me a chance to explain.

DM - What's to explain? Because of you, that murdering bastard's still alive.

RR - So what?

DM - So what? You wanted Culbraith to live? Do you have any idea what he is?

RR - Mac, it doesn't matter what he is. It's got to stop.

DM - What's got to stop?

RR - All of it. The fighting, the dying, the taking heads. Mac, it's got to go. Listen to me. WE can end it.

DM - Because you say so?

RR - Just hear me out, okay? Someone taught you to fight. Someone taught him that, and someone before that.

DM - Because that's the way it is.

RR - That's not the way it has to be. Mac, I am talking about peace. All of us living in peace.

DM - It can't happen.

RR - Why not?

DM - Because of men like Culbraith.

[Prisoner plays "Shenandoah" on harmonica in background.]

DM - [as prisoner brings him some supplies] Oh, thank you. This is going to hurt, Jeffrey.

Jeffrey - You go ahead, Mr. MacLeod. You do what you have to. [DM begins unwrapping bandage from Jeffrey's leg.] Tell me again how my Sarah looked.

DM - She looked beautiful, as usual.

Jeffrey - We're gonna get married. We're gonna name our first-born Duncan... if it's a boy. [coughs]

DM - [finishes unwrapping bandage] Okay. [rips open Jeffrey's pant leg, looks at wound]

Jeffrey - How is it?

DM - I'm sorry, Jeffrey. It's the gangrene.

Jeffrey - It can't be. CUT

DM - Jeffrey, the leg's got to come off.

Jeffrey - No, no.

DM - If it doesn't, the infection will spread. We've got to do it, Jeffrey. It's going to be okay. You'll see Sarah again, and you'll have lots of children.

Jeffrey - Just won't be able to run no races with 'em.

DM - You stay here, okay? [hands canteen to Jeffrey] Hold that. I'll be right back. I'm going to get a doctor. [leaves]

[Jeffrey lies on his pallet, clutching water canteen to his chest.]

Culbraith - Gangrene. Your friend should have stayed on the plantation.

DM - If the leg comes off now, he'll live.

Culbraith - My surgeon's occupied. I have wounded of my own. It'll have to wait.

DM - But if he waits, he dies. ²

Culbraith - I didn't put him in harm's way, Macleod. You did.

DM - Colonel, he's just a boy. He's a scared boy.

Culbraith - They're all scared boys. I'll do what I can. If my surgeon's available, I'll send him in the morning. Good night, MacLeod.

DM - Thank you. [leaves]

Jeffrey - [shakes his head] I may be a prisoner, but I ain't no slave. ^K

[Courier jogs across the grounds, enters headquarters.]

CUT

<DM - [in background, as Hickson opens door] Tell the colonel--

Hickson - I beg your pardon, sir. [enters room, closes door in DM's face] The courier said it was important.

DM - [yelling through closed door] Please! He's suffering!

Hickson - It's from your brother-in-law.

DM - [yelling through closed door] Just two minutes of your time!

Culbraith - [takes letter from Hickson] Thank you, Sergeant.

DM - [yelling through closed door] I need to talk to you!

[Letter reads:
Dear Colonel,
Georgia is burning from Atlanta to the
sea. Thousands have died. It grieves me
to tell you this, but your wife, my
sister, and the children have perished
at the hands of cowards. They were
seeking refuge and {uncommanded}. Upon failing
to surrender the cowards set fire to
the church and all within perished.
Be strong.
With deepest regrets,
Beauregard {Buchanan}]

Culbraith - [voice-over, reading letter] Dear William, this heinous war has taken an even darker turn. It grieves me to tell you this, but your wife, my sister, and the children--

Culbraith - [sits down, shocked] Dismissed, Sergeant.

DM - [talking to guard on other side of closed door] I need to see Culbraith. Tell Culbraith it's about the--

[Hickson salutes Culbraith, opens door, wrestles DM back.]

Hickson - You are not going in here!

Culbraith - Sergeant. [Hickson lets DM go.]>

DM - I've come about the surgeon.

Culbraith - [sets photo of woman and young boy aside] Your request is denied.

DM - What? You promised he'd be tended to today.

Culbraith - That is all.

DM - Damn it, Culbraith! The man's dying in agony.

Culbraith - Agony is what this war's all about, Mr. MacLeod.

DM - At least give me a knife! Let me try and save him!

Culbraith - You've had your answer. Sergeant. CUT

<[Hickson grabs DM's shoulder. DM turns, slugs him. Culbraith gets to his feet, punches DM. Hickson recovers, points gun at DM. ]

Culbraith - Get him out of here.>

CUT

Jeffrey - [shakily hums "Amazing Grace", then tenses & cries out in pain] It hurts, Mr. MacLeod.

DM - I'm sorry, Jeffrey. I'm so sorry.

Jeffrey - Make it stop.

DM - There's nothing I can do. ^L

Jeffrey - Please. I don't want to die like this.

DM - I can't. I can't do that.

Jeffrey - Mr. MacLeod. You have to.

DM - Okay. [takes Jeffrey's head in his hands. Jeffrey starts shakily humming "Amazing Grace" again. CLOSE on DM's face as a sharp cracking noise stops Jeffrey's humming. Culbraith walks past with guards, exchanges look with DM, moves on. ^M DM lowers his head, crying, then looks up with resolve in his eyes.]

RR - Maybe Culbraith was doing what he thought he had to do. You don't know what made him like that.

DM - You're right. I don't. And I don't care.

RR - But, Mac, if you talk to him, you might find that you understand each other. You know, you might even find a reason not to fight.

DM - I don't need a reason to talk to him, Richie. Some people are evil. Not bad, not misunderstood... just plain evil. And you don't talk to evil. You destroy it.

RR - But, Mac, evil only exists because of fear. That's what Methos is talking about!

DM - Methos? You talked to Methos?

RR - I know. Imagine that. The oldest Immortal alive. Here I thought he was a legend, and then he shows up out of the blue.

DM - And feeds you this stuff about peace and love.

RR - Mac, this guy's got wisdom and strength. Listening to him is like listening to some kind of saint.

DM - Pft. He's no saint. And I don't care how old he is, he's wrong.

RR - Mac, you're not hearing what I'm saying. I'm talking about a chance to change our lives forever, to live without being afraid.

DM - What, without a head?

RR - Sometimes I don't get you, Mac. Sometimes I just don't get you at all. [leaves]

[DM rides elevator up to loft, senses 'buzz'. Lift stops & he gets out to find Methos lounging on his bed, listening to jazz music.]

Methos - Hey, grab a beer. There's a cold one in the fridge.

DM - Yeah, I know. It's my fridge. I thought you were out wandering the world.

Methos - Ah, Tibet. Yak butter plays hell with the digestion. Besides, I'd had all the enlightenment I could use.

DM - [grabs stero remote from him] Maybe you should've kept it to yourself.

Methos - Sorry, I must've dozed off. Uh, what is it we're talking about?

DM - [turns off stereo] All that crock you're feeding Richie.

Methos - Right. And what crock would that be, exactly?

DM - Oh, you know. "Stop fighting. Lay down your sword. Give peace a chance." Ring a bell?

Methos - Wow. So he's here, is he?

DM - Who's here?

Methos - The other Methos.

CUT

DM - What?

Methos - I never actually met the guy, you know, but I've heard rumors. He wanders around the place, spreading his message to other Immortals.

DM - Using your name.

Methos - Well, it's not like I took out a patent or anything.

DM - Sounds like the guy's started a franchise or something. What about this line about peace and love? What's that all about?

Methos - Well, maybe it's just exactly what he says it is.

DM - Turning the other cheek only gets you slapped harder.

Methos - But it's got such a nice ring to it. You know, no more fighting, no more killing. Peace and harmony. Don't tell me you never fantasized about that. Some young sucker's always going to fall for it.

DM - Richie has.

Methos - Voila.

DM - He thinks the guy is some kind of prophet.

Methos - Well, who's to say he isn't?

DM - You are! This guy's a fraud.

Methos - Look. There are enough people out there who want my head for who I am. Now, I say if he wants to play "Methos," let him.

<DM - Even if he gets him killed? CUT

Methos - Yeah.> Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. [picks up hiking boot] Look at these boots. What happened to craftsmanship? I only put a thousand miles on these.

DM - You're going to convince Richie that this guy is a fake.

Methos - What makes you think he will believe me?

DM - Because you are going to be very sincere.

Methos - I left Katmandu for this. ^N
 

RR - I mean, this has got to be some kind of joke. CUT Joe, help me out here. I mean, five thousand years of wisdom? Him?

Joe - Well, I don't know about the wisdom... but, uh, yeah, five thousand, that's about right.

DM - I know it's a little hard to believe, but what you see is what you get. This is the real Methos.

CUT

RR - You guys don't understand what I'm saying. It's not the name that I care about. I mean, this Methos, that Methos. It's the message I believe in.

DM - Richie, the message is wrong, and it's going to get you killed. You just met this guy. What he's saying goes totally against everything that we know. Why would you want to believe him?

RR - Because he offered me his life. Now, why would he do that?

DM - Because he's afraid to fight you.

Methos - Or because he knew you wouldn't take it.

RR - Oh, yeah, right.

CUT

Methos - [to DM] There's one born every minute.

RR - Okay, fine, whatever. I mean, I am talking about peace here, fellas. I'm talking about a chance to end the killing forever. And you know something? Of all people, I thought you would understand. [leaves]

[Methos looks over at DM.]

Joe - He's young, all right? Young people, they make mistakes.

Methos - Yeah. Look at disco.

DM - I've got to get going. I've got someone to find. [leaves]

Joe - I'm going to go, uh, and check on this, uh, this other Methos. Maybe I'll turn something up.

Methos - [left sitting at the bar alone] Maybe I'll go and buy some socks.

[Culbraith grabs ring buoy from boat.] ³

Culbraith - [drops ring buoy to dock at his feet, senses 'buzz', walks down pier to Messenger] Who are you?

Messenger - They call me Methos.

CUT

Culbraith - And you're looking for me?

Messenger - Yes. But not for the reason you think. [holds his coat open to show he is unarmed] I carry no sword.

Culbraith - Then you're a fool.

Messenger - If you kill me, we won't be able to talk.

Culbraith - Nothing to talk about.

Messenger - There's you. What you are... what you were... why you feel as you do.

Culbraith - You don't know a damn thing about me.

Messenger - I know others who have known you. They say that William Culbraith was a soldier. They say he lost his loved ones.

Culbraith - Everybody has.

Messenger - Does that make it any less painful? CUT

Culbraith - I told my family about holy ground. They thought they were safe. The Union soldiers found them hiding in a church. They burned it to the ground with them in it.

Messenger - You wanted to weep, but you couldn't. You wanted to raise them up, hear them laugh again... but they were gone forever. So you went out to kill.

Culbraith - As many as I could.

Messenger - But that didn't end the pain, so you kept on killing... until you could no longer see their faces.

Culbraith - I tried. I tried to remember, Jesus, but I couldn't. ^O

Messenger - [steps closer, puts his hands on Culbraith's shoulders] I know what you're feeling, William Culbraith. And I know how to end it.

[Both sense 'buzz', turn to see DM standing further along the pier. Culbraith starts toward him. The Messenger gets in front of him, halting him.]

DM - I'm Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

Messenger - This doesn't have to be. Please, put up your sword.

DM - You must be the new prophet. Well, we can talk about it afterward.

Messenger - Whatever he did to you, he did out of pain. Because of what others had done to him. But it can end here. You can end it.

DM - It'll end when I take his head.

Messenger - Is this what Darius taught you? Yes, I knew Darius. I know what he tried to do for you. How much he loved you. Would he be proud of this?

[DM looks at dead bodies surrounding them.]

Darius - You shouldn’t be taking part in this tragedy.

DM - I was raised a warrior. I choose battles I believe to be just.

Darius - Oh, I'm sure. You're quite loyal to your convictions and compatriots. But I wonder what these men think about that... about convictions and compatriotism now?

(resume previous scene)

Messenger - When Darius asked you to consider peace, you listened. You tried.

DM - You're not Darius.

Messenger - I carry the same message.

CUT

DM - Even if you convince a thousand to follow you, it just takes one to start the killing. Just one.

Messenger - Will you be that one, MacLeod? The one who wouldn't consider peace? [steps between Culbraith & DM's sword] CUT

[Unwilling to cut down the Messenger to get to Culbraith, DM leaves. Messenger sighs, looks over at Culbraith.]

Messenger - [to Culbraith] Choose peace. [leaves] ⁴
 

[The Messenger is kneeling by a flower bed, planting flowers. He reaches for the next plant, picks ^P it up, examines it, senses 'buzz'.]

Methos - [enters garden] Methos, I presume.

Messenger - So they tell me.

Methos - You know, it's, um, interesting. I was always told that you were a myth. And yet you look very, very real. Tell me, is it true that you were a friend of Socrates?

Messenger - Oh, I've had many friends.

Methos - And, um, I've always wondered... Cleopatra -- what was she really like?

Messenger - [sighs] She was a woman. She loved, she lived, she died.

Methos - Yeah, speaking of death... [draws sword] You seem very vulnerable. [polishes sword blade on coat sleeve]

Messenger - We're all vulnerable.

Methos - Yes, but you a little more than me, I think. I mean, a lot of people might want the head of a five-thousand-year-old man.

Messenger - A lot of people might want to LISTEN to a five-thousand-year-old man.

Methos - I suppose that's true. I mean, fifty centuries. After all, you must have learnt a lot. Uh, knowledge, wisdom... that sort of thing.

Messenger - CUT Truth is, my beliefs are very simple.

Methos - Yes, I've heard about your beliefs. Do you really think that there's no such thing as evil?

Messenger - Only fear.

Methos - So, what, Genghis Khan and Hitler were just children playing up?

Messenger - They were men... driven by fear... to commit evil acts.

Methos - And if their mother had loved them truly, then it would have been a different world.

Messenger - Could you say it wouldn't?

Methos - [looks at him for a couple seconds] ⁵ What about the Game? Do you really think we can end the Game?

Messenger - I think it's worth trying.

Methos - Even if it costs you your head?

Messenger - CUT Can anyone live for five thousand years and say they did nothing? Risked nothing? Merely stayed alive? It'd be pointless.

Methos - Some might think that that experience was worth saving.

Messenger - I'm not one of them. But... we can talk about it.

Methos - No, I've got a prior engagement, I'm afraid. [walks off]

Messenger - I, uh, didn't catch your name.

Methos - [calls back] No, that's right. You didn't. [leaves]

Methos - A little pathos, a little pop psychology. CUT The guy is either delusional or he is a fraud, and you are buying it. CUT

DM - I'm not buying anything.

Methos - No? One speech from the "wise one" and you forgive Culbraith. I mean, what's next? Friendship rings? The Love Boat?

DM - I haven't forgiven him. It just made me think.

Methos - Oooh! [DM gives him a look.] I'm just saying, don't think too much, 'cause we can't afford another one on the list.

DM - What list?

Methos - Ask Joe.

Joe - I, uh, did some checking on this Methos flake... [DM looks at Methos.] The other one. Anyway, uh, there's a trail of dead Immortals behind him.

DM - He's killing them off?

Joe - No, he's just suckering them in. And then the Immortal lays down his sword, and the next Immortal doesn't.

Methos - Meanwhile our gentle friend moves on, spreading the word.

DM - Well, I'm not a convert, and I don't intend to be.

Joe - Well, great. What about Richie?

[DM glances at Joe, grimaces. ^Q]

DM - I know you do. [leaves]

CUT

<RR - For, like, twenty minutes you haven't said a word.

Messenger - Go home, Richie.

RR - Why? What did I do?

Messenger - You're not ready yet.> You'll give it up when the time is right.

RR - [sits in lawn chair. His sword is leaning against the chair's arm.] So you're pissed.

Messenger - No. I would just rather not have weapons in my presence.

RR - [looks at sword] I know. But I told you. This goes against everything I was taught.

Messenger - Spartans left their children on a hillside to die. It wasn't right... but it's what they were taught. We act, because we're taught to act. We kill because we're taught to kill. Because we fear death. ⁶

RR - Aren't you afraid to die?

Messenger - Of course. I'm no fool. You wonder if that's why I do all this. Because I'm afraid to fight. Get up.

RR - What?

Messenger - Get up. [tosses hoe to RR] ^R Come at me. Come at me, please. [swats away half-hearted thrust] You can do better than that. [RR swings at him. Messenger grabs hoe, tosses RR to the ground, tosses hoe aside.]

RR - [gets up] I wasn't ready for that.

Messenger - [hands RR's sword to him] This time, use your sword. [RR takes sword.] Strike.

RR - No.

Messenger - I said, strike.

RR - No.

Messenger - Strike! [punches RR in the jaw. RR strikes, Messenger disarms him, turns sword on him.] Sometimes the best peacemakers are those who are most experienced in war. It's not that I won't fight... it's that I refuse to kill.

RR - And that's why you don't want them around?

Messenger - CUT My faith is my defense. So far, it's worked.

RR - I'm sorry I doubted you.

Messenger - Richie, don't believe because of my strength. Believe because of your own. Because you want to.

RR - I do. CUT

CUT

<DM - [as RR exits lift] Hey, Rich. You hungry?

RR - Um--

DM - [lifts lid on pot] Huh?

RR - No, thanks.

DM - Well, uh, how about a workout? I could put this away and we can go and have a workout afterward, huh?

RR - I don't think so.

DM - So why'd you come?> [RR takes out his sword.] Richie, think about this.

RR - I have, Mac. I've thought about it as much as I've thought about anything in my life.

DM - Do you realize what you're doing? This is not just a weapon. This is... part of us, part of who we are.

RR - Not me. It's not who I am. [puts sword on kitchen counter] Not anymore. Look, we don't have to agree on this. I'm sorry.

DM - So am I.

RR - I'll see you. [enters elevator]

[Close on DM as, offscreen, RR lowers ^S gate. ^T]
 

[Camera pans up from pruning shears as ^U the Messenger prunes bush, senses 'buzz' as Culbraith enters garden, carrying his sword openly.]

Culbraith - You're not hard to find.

Messenger - I don't try to be.

Culbraith - I thought about what you said. About how I was. And how I came to be what I am.

Messenger - You had no choice, William. You were made into what you are.

Culbraith - And you think I could change?

Messenger - I know you can.

Culbraith - If I wanted to... [brings sword up] and I don't.

Messenger - I don't believe that. [turns to face Culbraith] This is a mistake, William.

Culbraith - Your mistake. I'll have the head of Methos. CUT

Messenger - I looked in your heart. I know I reached you.

Culbraith - And found your death.

Messenger - If this is what is in your heart, to kill an unarmed man... [kneels] ...who kneels before you... Then I was wrong. [looks up at Culbraith] But I don't believe I was wrong.

Culbraith - Believe. [beheads the Messenger]

DM - I taught him how to survive. What he does with that is up to him. ^V

RR - [enters garden, walks over to Culbraith sitting in lawn chair] Hey.

Culbraith - I didn't mean to surprise you. [RR looks around for the Messenger.] I never thanked you for saving my life.

RR - It's not a problem. I mean, it's-- it's what he teaches.

Culbraith - [chuckles] Yeah. I've never met anyone quite like the old man. It's hard to imagine how he's lived this long without a sword. How are you managing?

RR - Well, I-- I guess faith can take you a long way. You?

Culbraith - Faith? I don't have any faith. [picks up his sword, stands up] No faith at all.

(resume previous scene)

Joe - Some guy comes along, says everything's just rosy. No more death, no more fear... Well, hell, Richie's going to buy into that. But it's a mistake that's going to cost him, Mac.

DM - Well, it's his to make. It's about integrity.

(resume previous scene)

RR - Hey, buddy, don't do it. You know this is wrong.

Culbraith - Is it? Well, I guess old habits die hard. [swings at RR]

RR - [dodges, backs away] But he saved your life. I mean, didn't you listen to him?

Culbraith - Right up until the end. Now, are you going to make it as easy as he did, or are you going to put up a fight? [Swings at RR. RR backs away. Swings again. RR ducks.]

CUT

Joe - Hmph. You are one calculating son of a bitch.

CUT

(resume previous scene)

[Culbraith kicks RR. RR cries out and ^W falls backward. He rolls down a hill & Culbraith jumps down after him.]

Culbraith - I guess when you get down to it, we're all the same.

RR - Not all of us. He was different. [Culbraith lands cut across RR's abdomen.]

Culbraith - We were meant for war. [Culbraith & RR sense 'buzz' as DM enters garden.] You can't interfere, MacLeod! The battle's been joined.

DM - I wouldn't think of it.

[DM tosses RR's sword to him. RR grabs it, stabs Culbraith.]

Culbraith - Is this the part where I beg for mercy? Or where you say we don't have to do this?

RR - Neither. [beheads Culbraith, Quickening begins.]

[Garden background around RR starts to rotate. Marching drumbeat begins. The first lightning bolt hits RR. More follow. Garden background continues to rotate behind him, turning blue, then back to ^X normal colors, then gold in brief flashes. RR starts to rotate as the rotating background continues. Close on RR's face as the background rotation speeds up. Lightning zaps him again and he rotates to face the camera. Camera cuts to crowd of 'ghosts', pans across crowd. Ghosts' faces turn blue. Camera pans past older man wearing a cap, ^Y past younger man with longer dark hair, past several faces VERY close to the camera, then faces stop being blue. Camera continues to pan across crowd as RR appears in front of them, rotating. Faces behind him rotate faster until they are a blur. Quickening ends & RR falls to his knees.]
 

CUT

<DM - You really think peace between us was possible?

RR - I'd like to think so.

DM - Would've been nice. ⁷

RR - You know, I don't even know what his real name was. I mean, I know he wasn't the REAL Methos. [pointed look at Methos] Maybe he wasn't right, either, but he was a good man.>

Methos - Listen. I'm sorry I disappointed you, kid.

RR - That's okay.

Methos - Later. [starts to leave]

RR - [calls after him] Old-timer, you got any words of wisdom for me?

Methos - Nope.

[DM & RR chuckle. Methos leaves.]

RR - Well, uh, thanks for saving my life... again.

DM - Yeah, all I did was level the playing field.

RR - You know, Mac, I think I'm going to head out of town for a while. Just get on my bike and try to figure some stuff out.

DM - All those big questions?

RR - Oh, yeah.

DM - If you don't find the answers, keep looking.

RR - I will.

DM - [as RR leaves] Richie. [RR turns back. DM flashes him a peace sign.] Be safe.

RR - You, too, Mac. [leaves]