Chapter Seventeen

Minutes before noon, Methos stepped into the temple, flexing his fingers restlessly. His hair, only just dried, was smoothed back from his face, bound neatly at the base of his neck with Minyah's gift, silver glinting in direct sunlight as he entered the temple. The tail of hair hung to his shoulderblades, falling over bare skin. A golden sash held cream pants tightly at his waist, a thin double-belt of leather buckled over, hanging down one hip slightly to hold the steel sword he had gained from Aroz.

The sword had caused hours of debate. Atlantean males traditionally went unarmed to their wedding cerimonies, though the other men of the party were expected to bear arms. Methos flatly refused to go unarmed when others would bear weapons, holy ground or not. Ghean eventually relented, her revenge being a six hour modeling session while the women squabbled about how best to arrange ceremonial robes over an inconvienent sword. Methos stood through it stoically, preferring the wait to being caught without a blade. Eventually a discreet slit was decided on, and Methos was given strict instructions on how to move to make certain the sword wouldn't cause the robe to fall in an ungainly fashion.

For the moment, though, it was irrelevant, and he could stand as he liked. He'd entered the temple shirtless. Donning the robe was a significant part of the ceremony itself, symbolically enfolding the new husband into the House after the vows were made.

The floor was warm under his bare feet as he moved to take his place at the back of the temple, facing the altar and beyond it, the door. For a moment, Methos frowned at his toes, then glanced to the side to see if others were unshod as well.

Minyah was, at least. Standing to his left, near the door, she wore a sleeveless dress the same cream as Methos' pants, belted at the waist with an identical golden sash. Her heavy silver pendent hung to below her breastbone, on a glittering silver chain instead of its usual leather thong. Her hair was bound up in a delicate golden headdress, curls falling loose down her back over a golden cloak, a few shades lighter than the sash.

Methos smiled briefly at her, glancing away before his attention snapped back to the slender woman. The cloak she wore was mid-length, lightweight, and he suddenly suspected he'd seen it before. His eyebrows rose questioniongly, and Minyah winked, very deliberately, before looking away.

Methos nearly laughed aloud, glancing to the other side of the temple for the Immortal he knew Ghean had invited. Karem stood, arms folded over his chest. Out of all the temple's occupants, he was the only one who didn't wear any of the deep gold that was the color of House Aries. His tunic and pants were dark green, emphasizing his eyes, and the only belt he wore was to support the blade at his hip. Methos nodded a greeting, letting the day itself be an excuse for the smile he couldn't stop. One of the precious Immortality artifacts right under his nose, and he'll never know. Methos' grin grew wider, and he finished looking around the room.

Next to Karem, directly across from Minyah, Aroz looked as though he were trying very hard to look pleasant. It resulted in a somewhat alarming glower, confused by his mouth turning up when he remembered to smile. Dressed in the cream of the wedding party, a golden robe already over his shoulders, he made a striking contrast to the green-clad Immortal beside him. Like the other men, Aroz wore a sword, though his was sheathed across his back, dark leather of the harness a black streak across the golden robe and all but blending in against his bare chest.

He looks, Methos concluded, decidedly dangerous. For a moment, Methos cast his eyes to the pillars that supported the temple dome, offering brief and remarkably sincere thanks to the gods represented that he stood on holy ground.

He was left grinning at the temple gods. Someone had climbed up among them and left wreathes of wildflowers tangled about the creatures portrayed. Aries' ram was crowned in the gold worn by all the House members, the flowers rakishly hanging over one eye, barely kept in place by the curve of a horn. It gave the carving a mischevious air, and Methos smiled again before examining the rest of the temple.

Sunlight spilled between the pillars, highlighting the flower-braided ropes that held in place sheets of brilliantly colored wildflowers cascading down the temple's inner walls. Woven with unfathomable patience, the symbols of Atlantis were splashed in white against the vivid rainbow of flowers. Each was minutely detailed with a myriad of tiny, pale flowers. Different shades picked out eyes and nostrils on the animals, or shaded the curve of a jug to render the illusion of three dimensions. Methos rocked back on bare heels, inspecting the weavings with admiration. It's absolutely impossible that Minyah and Ghean did all thirteen of the weavings themselves this morning. I'll have to ask, later, who did them, and compliment the crafter.

Ragar, last of the wedding party to arrive, save Ghean, took his place at Methos' left as well, closer to Methos than Minyah stood. The stout scholar had a pleased grin plastered across his face, and he, too, wore a sash of gold over the deep blue robes that placed his House as Taurus. The sword and belt were purely ceremonial; Methos doubted Ragar did any more than cut met in his general use of edged weapons. Still, tradition demanded he go armed, and so he wore a blade, bumping his arm awkwardly against the hilt when he moved.

Another thirteen men and women, representing each of the Houses, filed in, to take up places in front of the wildflower weaving that symbolized their House. They stood, Ghean had explained to him, not as men and women witnessing the marriage, but as the gods of each House, so that the gods might watch and bless the ceremony through them. The priest, an imposing bald man, followed them, and the temple became expectantly quiet.

Methos flexed his fingers again, watching the open doors eagerly. The nervous motion stilled as Ghean padded into the temple from the glare of the noonday sun. For a few brief seconds, the dazzling light created a halo around the tiny woman, glowing warmly before fading as she stepped further into the temple. Her steps were dainty, the dress just long enough that a more normal stride would cause her to step on the hem. Bare toes peeked out from under the gown as she came forward around the altar to Methos' right.

Unlike any of the others, Ghean wore red, the gown a deep crimson, darker than blood. The sash at her waist was the gold of Aries, and trailed down in back to blend with a wide slash of gold inset into the skirt. The back of the dress was cowled, crimson warm against the smooth olive tones of her skin. Hip- length hair was bouned up in a perfectly smooth bun, surrounded by a delicate tiara of gold, the symbol of Aries worked into the metal at the crown of her head. A length of thick black hair was left to swing free, washing down over the back of the tiara, creating a glittering mark where gold suddenly flashed through. Smiling shyly, Ghean offered her hand to Methos, over- full sleeves of the dress falling away to expose her fingertips.

"You are positively radiant," Methos whispered as he took her hand. Ghean's smile exploded with pride. They knelt together as the priest circled the altar to stand in front of them. Golden House symbols, all thirteen of them, were embroidered at the hem of his white robe. Methos grinned at the needlework while the priest gestured Minyah and Aroz forward.

"Do you have the robe this man is to wear?" the priest boomed out. Methos blinked up, startled, to look out the door beyond altar and priest alike. A crowd was gathered there, well-wishers for the newly-weds who were not to enter the temple during the ceremony, according to Atlantean traditions. Evidently the priesthood was well trained in allowing those relegated to the outside to hear what was going on.

Aroz, standing for Ghean's father, began to unfold the robe as he and Minyah came forward. "We do," he replied, neither as loudly nor as grandiosly as the priest had.

In fact, Methos thought irreverantly, I might call his tone sour. He really should learn to lie more believably.

For a moment, Methos thought the sharp crack was the sound of the robe being shaken out. A deep rumble of stone shifting followed it, and the earth trembled, correcting his belief. As the walls groaned, Methos jumped to his feet, pulling Ghean against his chest protectively.

"Earthquake," Minyah explained, voice astonishingly calm next to the alarm Methos felt. "It will pass in a moment."

For long seconds the rumbles continued, settling down into silence as the Atlanteans looked patiently bored. Ghean took a step back, grinning up at her husband-to-be. "They're not so bad," she assured him. "You'll get used to them."

Methos let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "I'd rather not," he said dryly. "Is it over?"

Silence fell over the temple for a moment, and then Ragar nodded. "I think so," he said. "Shall we go on?"

"An excellent suggestion," Minyah replied, turning to Aroz, who held Methos' ceremonial robe loose in his hands.

"We do," he repeated, and then hissed, "Kneel," at Methos. Reminded, Methos dropped back down to his knees, only to fall forward, bracing himself with his hands as another jolt, much harder than the first, shook the temple. Ghean, kneeling as well, also fell, and beside them Ragar dropped too, surprise clear on his face.

Minyah gave a sharp cry, reaching a hand out to catch herself a moment too late. The earth's shaking knocked her feet out from under her, and she fell back, a hand flailing for balance. Methos pushed himself to his feet on the rattling temple floor, able to see before she hit that the fall would shatter Minyah's wrist.

"A doctor -- " he began, as Minyah bounced off the stone slabs, unharmed. She rolled into a sitting position, staring at her arm in astonishment before tentatively prodding at it with her other hand. Hazel-gold eyes widened, and she looked up at Methos, touching the shoulder of the golden cloak she wore.

The earth gave a final violent rumble before making a sound almost like a sigh, the shaking dying away again. Karem's shout of outrage overpowered the last sounds of the earth settling. "You bitch! You're wearing one of the artifacts!" He surged forward, swinging over the corner of the altar and drawing his sword to strike at the woman on the floor.

"No!" Ghean's scream cut through Karem's shout, as she flung herself forward across the floor, putting herself between the man and her mother. Karem's expression registered feral delight.

"You first, then," he snarled. "I always wanted to taste the power of an untapped Quickening." The sword swung down to the sound of Ghean's scream. The tiny woman flung her arms up, twisting away from the falling sword, cries abruptly silenced as the blow cut her nearly in half. Kicking the body out of his way, Karem raised his sword a second time, to strike at Minyah.

Methos dove for the man's knees, knocking him off balance, at the same time Aroz vaulted the altar to lift his sword and drive it down towards Karem. Methos rolled to his back, kicking Aroz's sword arm and sending the blow astray. "Holy ground!" he screamed. "You can't do this! We're on holy ground!"

Aroz's black eyes filled with rage, looking down at Ghean's body. "I can," he growled. Karem scrambled to his feet, regaining his blade, and whirled to face Aroz. An instant later their swords clashed, an angry ring of metal. A fresh roar of tearing earth followed the first exchange of blows, and Methos struggled to his feet.

"You can't do this!" he screamed again. Another violent lurch of the earth sent him sprawling to the temple floor. Metal smashed against metal above him as Karem drove a blow at Aroz, and Methos pulled himself to his feet. There was blood on his pants, Ghean's blood. For an instant he hesitated, looking through the tangle of people for her body.

The sun went out. Methos shot one frantic look through the pillars, watching black clouds boiling through the sky as Aroz and Karem slammed their blades together again. Lightning shattered down from the clouds, rendering the people in the temple into stark fragmented images. Methos hauled Ragar up by the collar and shoved him at the door. "Run!" he shouted, snatching at Minyah's wrist, dragging her with him towards the door. Wind sprang up, howling agonized octaves above the frightened screams as people bolted from the temple and the square surrounding it. "Run!"

Minyah pulled back, trying to return to the temple as Methos herded her out the door in front of him. Curls lashed in her face as she cried, "Ghean!"

Methos grabbed the front of Minyah's cloak, hauling her centimeters from his face. "Ghean is dead!" he screamed. "Unless you want to be, too, run! And keep the cloak on!" For a moment, he looked over his shoulder at the battle being fought within the temple walls. Aroz had the advantage, but Methos could see grief blinding him, and knew it would be mere minutes, at best, before the fight was ended.

"What's happening?" Minyah remained at Methos' side, screaming. Methos snatched her wrist again, preventing her from returning to the temple.

"Holy ground -- the Rules -- run!" he shouted again, and ran, pulling Minyah with him. The earth buckled and bent beneath their feet, sending them leaping from point to point. Behind them, as if orchestrated, the temple pillars shattered, sending the dome crashing down against its thick walls.

Aroz flinched at the implosion of sound, staggering to keep his feet as the ground twisted violently again. Lightning smashed outside the temple, blackening the ground and sending acrid smoke into the flower-scented room. He met another blow from Karem, silently cursing the inferior bronze blade he carried. Had he still the steel sword Methos had taken from him, the battle would already be over.

Karem leapt onto the altar, beckoning with one hand as he tracked Aroz's movements with his sword. "First you," Karem growled, "then your precious Ghean and all her sweet untapped Quickening. And then that bastard Methos, and that bitch Minyah. And then the cloak is mine, and the world with it." He grinned, leaping off the altar and moving to the attack.

Aroz backed up, fury blinding his defense. "Over my dead body," he grated. Karem laughed.

"Exactly."

Across the room, Ghean inhaled sharply, the sound entirely lost in the crash of swords and shaking earth. Pain shrieked through her, and she tested her ribs with disbelieving fingers, searching for the gash where the sword had struck. There was blood, blending with the crimson gown, and a wound, but far smaller than it seemed it should have been. As she pulled the dress away from the cut, the bloody injury inexplicably knitted itself before her eyes. Ghean pushed to her feet in confusion, swaying on the rocking floor, reaching up to touch her head. I must have hit my head. The golden crown was crooked, nearly falling off her head. With a rough movement she pulled it off, throwing it on the floor and watching it roll towards the door. Just beyond the opening, it curved to roll in a circle, clinking against the outer wall of the temple. As if the tiny sound were a catalyst in the raging storm, the doors were moved by the wind, slamming shut with a resounding boom that shook her to her bones.

"Aroz?" Ghean whispered blankly, as the opponents in the battle before her became clear. Although he couldn't have heard her, Aroz suddenly looked her way, breaking off the fight to run towards her.

"Ghean! Stay out of the way -- it will be all right -- run!"

Karem's laughter followed the words, harsh over the sounds of the storm, and he crossed the temple behind Aroz. "Enjoy this, Ghean," he advised. "Aroz's death is going to be the last thing you ever see. How does it feel, knowing your pathetic beloved preferred keeping his own neck whole to saving yours? Betrayal is such a bitter dish." Karem's expression became perfectly even, his voice flat. "Now, Aroz."

Aroz wheeled, sword at the ready. "Now," he agreed.

Ghean slid to her knees, tears draining down her cheeks as she watched in silent, miserable confusion. The wind outside suddenly stopped, as though a wailing woman had lost all the air in her lungs to sob with. The earth's rumblings shuddered and came to a halt, leaving the collapsing temple unbearably quiet.

Half a dozen blows were exchanged, rapid and loud in the eerie silence. Karem threw a series of strikes at Aroz's head, each parried with unbelieveable speed. The fourth time, Karem jerked his sword around halfway through the blow, an ugly, awkward motion that Aroz didn't expect. Before he could rework his defense, Karem slammed his blade into Aroz's side, the same motion that had felled Ghean only minutes earlier.

Aroz slid to his knees, defeat etched in his face, more colored with regret than despair. Very calmly, he turned his head to smile gently at Ghean. "I loved you," he said clearly. The words were left hanging in the air as Karem's sword swept down to take Aroz's head.

Ghean screamed.

Outside, the wind began howling again. The temple stone roard out as the earth convulsed again. Within the temple, there was a moment of utter stillness, while power gathered. Karem flung his head back in a shout of triumph, waiting for the rush of strength that was the Quickening. He held the pose a long moment, then his eyes widened and he looked at Ghean.

"Something's not right," he whispered with great precision. Lightning slammed into him, bombarding him through the temple roof and windows. The pain of the Quickening exploded into agony, a thousand times worse than any Quickening Karem had ever felt. Pain fogged his mind, scoring his throat raw with screams. Dimly, the warning Methos had shouted came back to him: holy ground.

Holy ground is our sanctuary. We cannot fight there.

"No!"

The blade fell from Karem's hand, only inches from where Aroz's lay. Lightning turned to pure fire, hammering into the blades, leaping from bronze to stone to flesh. It burned hotter than open fire could, melting the temple's stone floor into liquid smoothness, and Aroz's body into a grease patch on the floor, charcoaled bones shattering into dust. Karem disintegrated more slowly before Ghean's horrified eyes, flesh melting from his bones as he collapsed towards the floor, screams echoing above the fire's roar.

The stone boiled. Frantic, Ghean ran to the altar, perching on it as she sobbed a supplication to the gods. "Please, please, please save me. Please save me. Please."

The litany provided no release as the fire swept up the walls, melting away fractures in the stone, rendering imperfections invisible. The door faded into obscurity, the windows reduced to smooth curves in the walls.

The air was too hot to breath. Under her, the altar slipped, beginning to melt into the boiling floor. Ghean closed her eyes and screamed until she could take in no more oxygen from the broiling temple air. She fell unconscious before the flames reached her.