MacLeod is drawn into a conspiracy of Immortals on a militant quest to win back the independence that Scotland lost, centuries ago, at Culloden. For her own reasons, Immortal Annie Devlin has already answered the ancient call of the clans. But if Duncan follows, he risks being drawn into a web of obsession, madness, and murder. For the Immortal who is masterminding the campaign will be satisfied with nothing less than Duncan MacLeod's heart and soul... and undying loyalty...

Scotland the Brave contains Methos' debut in the Highlander novels. Hardly an auspicious beginning, but for the sake of completeness, here are his scenes.

These scenes take place after Joe is attacked by a mysterious assailant.

The dojo and loft were uninhabited by Immortals. MacLeod shoved open the door, stepped off the elevator, and went directly to the wall-mounted phone by the window, a conventional phone neither cordless nor cellular. He punched in the long series of numbers quickly, then checked his watch. Six o'clock in the evening his time was three in the morning Paris time. Too bad.

Transatlantic connections were far faster and clearer than they used to be, before the days of fiber optics. But for a man who for most of his life had access to nothing beyond a good horse, a carriage, or a pair of legs, such swiftness of communication still seemed miraculous.

Just now, however, anything was too slow.

After three blurry rings, the other end picked up. He opened his mouth to rudely appropriate the conversation, then realized in angry frustration it was a recorded message. Methos, despite the hour, was not at home.

He waited impatiently for the cheery, ironic greeting to end, followed by the tone; when at last it sounded, he stated his message with meticulous succinctness and nothing at all of emotion. It was everywhere in his body except his voice.

"This is MacLeod. I want anything Adam Pierson has on any of us who might be here in the city — and who might have a grudge against Joe Dawson."

Nothing else. Nothing more was needed. He disconnected immediately and set the handset back onto its hook.

Methos would know if anyone did. Methos, in his guise as Watcher Adam Pierson, had access to the files, the Chronicles. Methos as Immortal had access to five thousand years of memory.

Richie closed the book, held it, and stared bemusedly into the distance. Slowly he set the volume on the table, picked up his beer bottle, discovered it was empty. Set it back down again without even blinking.

He began sorting them out. "There's Duncan — and Macbeth murders him. Check." He stuck his left thumb in the air. "And the Macduff kills Macbeth, because he thinks Macbeth killed his wife and kids — or had them killed — and because Macbeth killed Duncan, who was King of Scotland... only now Macbeth is. Or was. Check." The index finger went up. "And then there's Malcolm — because he's Duncan's son, who's dead; and Macduff, who killed Macbeth, doesn't want to be King of Scotland, but wants Malcolm on the throne—"

The ringing of the phone interrupted his recitation. Still working out the convoluted Scottish and Shakespearean connections, Richie answered distractedly.

For a long moment there was silence, though the line remained open. And then, in careful inquiry, "Richie?"

It was. He said so.

Another pause. "Adam Pierson. Is MacLeod there?"

"Adam Pier— oh." He leaned against the wall, shifting gears with effort. "No, Mac isn't here right now. I don't know when he'll be back. Can I take a message?"

Sharply: "Where is he?"

"I don't know where he is," Richie answered in irritation. "It's not like he leaves a Dayrunner for me to check—"

"Find him, Richie."

He'd never heard that tone in that man. A chill ran down his back. He stood up instantly, tense. "Why?"

"Look, I only just got back into town and learned Joe Dawson has been asking questions about an Immortal. I've been sorting out an emerging patter in reports for the past few months, matching unexplained decapitations and various unconfirmed sightings, unattributed events. It's all been very random, but Joe gave me the key: the common denominator is the Highland Shakespeare Company—"

"Yes," Richie blurted sharply.

A pause. "Do you know this company?"

"They're here in the city. Now."

Pierson spoke rapidly. "You've got to find MacLeod before whoever is doing this finds him. I've been trying to reach Joe—"

"He's been hurt," Richie interrupted. "He's in the hospital. Listen what's—"

"Then that explains MacLeod's call—" He broke it off. "Find MacLeod, Richie. This isn't part of the Game. This is revenge. This is madness. The man is insane."

Richie stilled. "What do you mean, insane? Who?"

"He kills them twice, Richie. It's always smashed faces, pointblank gunshot wounds to the spine, sword blows through the chest or skull — apparently he even drags them to death behind a car. Then takes their heads while they're dead, before they can heal."

"Oh my God," Richie murmured. "That's what he meant... it's all in the play! He was Macbeth and Macduff—"

"Richie—"

"Macbeth kills Duncan, then Macduff kills Macbeth! And the big guy played both parts—" He stopped as the implications extended endless before him: infinity's manifest destiny. "I think I know where Mac is."

"Richie, wait—"

But Richie hung up and ran for the elevator.

©1996 Warner Books, Inc. All rights reserved. Highlander: Scotland the Brave by Jennifer Roberson. US $5.99 ISBN 0-446-60286-8