Disclaimer:  Methos and the concept of Immortality belong to Rysher.  Kaylista and all other unknowns belong to me.

These lyrics were given to me by Isolde, and are "The Whistler" from Jethro Tull's "Songs From the Wood."  For once, it does not have Victoria DiThon Kestral in it. *g*  It also does not fit into either of the Forever Sequence timelines.  Rated PG.  Enjoy!

PS. This is my first attempt at a romance so be nice!

I'll buy you six bay mares, to put in your stable.

Methos wandered into the small town and tried to ignore his aching feet.  The year was 2653, and the whole era that the human race had fallen into reminded him strongly of the Dark Ages.  He remembered himself at the height of the computer age wishing that things were simpler and laughed softly.  Those had definitely been the days.  He passed an open stall in front of a horse pen and overheard two men arguing.

"These horses are fine!  What are you talking about?" the vendor cried.  Another man snorted at this statement.  "We agreed on six bay mares.  What do you mean they're not purebred?"

Methos shook his head and continued on.  He was playing the part of a simple minstrel by the name of Errant and needed to get to the local manor house before dark if he wanted food and a place to stay in exchange for his music.

Six golden apples bought with my pay.

On his way up the path to the local lord's house, Methos found himself walking near a beautiful woman heading the same direction.  He fingered the gold charms in his pouch that had been a gift from the lady of the manor at the last place he played.  Methos was almost tempted to give one of them to the woman, since they were worthless, money wise.  All coins of any value were made of steel these days.  He had been offered huge amounts of money for his sword many times.  Smart Immortal that he was, Methos always refused.

I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune.

Methos was welcomed at the manor and hired to stay for a week to play at the lord's son's wedding in seven days.  He agreed and settled in.  That evening, he played for the small court, and discovered that the beautiful woman was the lord's daughter, Kaylista.  She requested a rather archaic song about halfway through the evening, and Methos' heart was warmed by Kaylista's smile when she discovered he could play it.

But I must be gone by the seventh day.

Kaylista stopped Methos on his way back to his room at the end of the evening.  "Thank you for playing that song.  It reminds me of my grandmother.  She used to sing it to me when I was a girl."

Methos nodded.  "You're welcome, milady."

She looked at him shyly.  "I know that you are to play at my brother's wedding.  Since you'll be here awhile, can I give you a tour of our lands?"

The ancient Immortal grinned and gave a sweeping bow that caused Kaylista to giggle.  "I would be honored, milady."

So come on - I'm the Whistler,
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready - I'm the Whistler,
I whistle along on the seventh day.

Methos and Kaylista stopped for a picnic midway through the tour.  He entertained her on the flute and bodhran that he played as a minstrel and was again entranced by her smile.

"Oh you make the most beautiful music I have ever heard!" she cried.  "I wish you could stay forever.  But you must leave after the wedding."  It nearly killed Methos that he could not reach out to comfort her, for minstrel and nobility were different social classes, and such things were forbidden.

All kinds of sadness I've left behind me.
Many's the day when I have done wrong.

Methos lay on his cot in a small room in the servant's quarters of the manor house, unable to sleep.  His mind drifted back, and he remembered other loves he had had over the years.  For he did indeed love Kaylista.  After five and a half thousand years, he knew what love felt like.  She had a spirit that outshone all else in this dreary world.  However, Methos knew he couldn't express that love.  The structure of society forbid it, and he could never hurt Kaylista by making such a lovely young lady an outcast.

But I'll be yours forever and ever.
Climb on the saddle and whistle along.

Methos and Kaylista walked through the forest together in silence.  The wedding was tomorrow, and Methos would leave directly after.  The last few days had been heaven for both of them.

Kaylista stopped on the path and pulled Methos to face her.  "I want to go with you, Errant," she said suddenly.  "I want to become a musician like you."

Methos was stunned.  "But - you're a noble lady, you'll be an outcast, Kaylista!  I can't let you do that!"

"You've heard me sing, though.  You've said yourself I could be a successful minstrel," Kaylista said.  "We would make a wonderful duo."

Methos lifted a hand to cup her cheek.  "I can't let you do that Kaylista.  The world is a dangerous place, especially for people like me.  I never told you about the cold, the fear of no food or shelter.  But you will be in my heart forever."  He turned and headed away down the path.  Kaylista stared after him.

So come on-I'm the Whistler
I have a fife and drum to play.
Get ready-I'm the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day.

Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on the summer day sands.

The wedding was beautiful, made even more so by the visiting minstrel's music.  If he did not seem happy, he did not let it show through his music.  The songs and ballads of heroes and love danced through the night during the wedding feast.  But Methos was already trying to put Kaylista out of his mind.  He was leaving at dawn the next day.

We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle.

Kaylista had fled to her room after the ceremony.  She did not want to face Errant, couldn't face him.  Kaylista loved him, and thought that he did, too.

"I don't know why my world is like this," she mourned.  "I have always wanted adventure, and here's my chance.  But I can't take it.  Not without risking everything."

Hold the first grain of love in our hands.

As Methos headed for the manor gate the next morning, he was surprised to see Kaylista waiting for him.  She held an oddly shaped case in her hands.

"Goodbye, Errant," she said, eyes downcast.  "I wish you good luck on your journeys."  She held the case out to him.  "You said you had always wanted a harp.  This was my grandmother's.  No one here knows how to play it, so I thought I should give it to you."

Methos was stunned.  "Thank you, Kaylista.  That is very kind of you."  He took the case and slung it over his shoulder.  On impulse, he leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips.  "You knew Kaylista, it's what I do.  I whistle along on the seventh day.  But, I will always remember you."  Turning down the road, Methos headed off.

Kaylista was stunned by the kiss, but stood at the gate to stare after Errant, even when he was long out of sight.

So come on-I'm the Whistler
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready-I'm the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day.

~finis~

"The Whistler"
By Jethro Tull

I'll buy you six bay mares, to put in your stable.
Six golden apples bought with my pay.
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune.
But I must be gone by the seventh day

Chorus:
So come on-I'm the Whistler
I have a fife and a drum to play.
Get ready-I'm the Whistler
I whistle along on the seventh day.

All kinds of sadness I've left behind me.
Many's the day when I have done wrong.
But I'll be yours forever and ever.
Climb on the saddle and whistle along.

Chorus

Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on the summer day sand.
We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle.
Hold the last grain of love in our hands.

Chorus

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This page was last updated: 2.22.5 ~jlg~