Highlander (1992) s04e01 Episode Script
Homeland
I don't even know why we're digging here, Brian.
This isn't even a real grave.
It's a battle site, you fool.
How does he know that? That's his business.
Now put your back into it.
I can smell the silver from here.
What the hell's the matter? Dogs-- something's spookin' them.
You bloody old woman.
The only one spooked around here is you.
Mary and Joseph, it's you! Why do you have to sneak up like that? What have you found? Only this dagger.
Not what you're looking for.
Maybe I should hire someone who'd be more successful.
And maybe if we find it, we'll sell it to someone else.
That would be a grave mistake.
Don't threaten us.
Or folks might hear who's behind this grave robbing.
Not from you.
Please don't kill me.
I have something else in mind for you, Kevin.
Uh, Kevin, bring him along.
He is Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Born in 1592, in the Highlands of Scotland, and he is still alive.
He is immortal.
For 400 years, he's been a warrior, a lover, a wanderer, constantly facing other Immortals in combat to the death.
The winner takes his enemy's head and with it, his power.
I am a Watcher, part of a secret society of men and women who observe and record, but never interfere.
We know the truth about Immortals.
In the end, there can be only one.
May it be Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Here we are Born to be kings We're the princes of the universe I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world I don't know, George.
even if the print really is from the period.
Look at the brushwork.
Yes.
Well, at least we agree that it is a good copy.
You sure about that, James? Oh, MacLeod-- Lalonde here has convinced me to take this copy off his hands.
You got lucky, James.
That's an original Utamaro.
I'm sure you're mistaken.
There's Utamaro's mark right there.
but-- your style, MacLeod.
Mmm.
Well-- a companion piece in Kyoto.
I know.
I bought it three days ago.
Thirty, for an original Utamaro.
Very well.
Thirty.
Ah, monsieur? Oh, no.
Eh, bien.
C'est un Monsieur Bailey for 30,000 francs.
You know what, James? You're right.
It wasn't really my style.
Wrap this for Monsieur Bailey.
Where did you get that? A fine example of jeweled silver work from the late Celtic period in Scotland.
- I'll take it.
- 10,000 francs.
That seems hardly fair.
Twelve.
Fifteen.
- Fifteen.
Monsieur Bailey? - Twenty.
Just returning the favor.
- Fifty.
- Fifty? Fifty-five.
How much do you really want it? One hundred.
May I package it for you? Au revoir, Monsieur Bailey.
A pleasure as always.
Congratulations, Mr.
MacLeod.
An excellent piece.
I asked you how it got here.
Wh-Who knows? These things have a way of turning up.
Gambling debt.
Death in the family.
You didn't buy this at an estate show.
I asked you how you got it here, Lalonde.
A bulk shipment from England.
I cannot check every piece.
All I know is that it's from somewhere in Scotland.
U-Uh, in the Highlands.
Glenfinnan, on the shores of Loch Shiel.
Ah.
You know it.
I was born there.
O Bonny Portmore I am sorry to see Such a woeful destruction Of your ornament tree For it stood on your shore For many's the long day Till the longboats From Antrim Came to float it away All the birds in the forest They bitterly weep Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" Mother, Father-- It's been a long time.
It's good to be home.
Excuse me.
The campground's further down the road.
It's better sightseeing, not to mention more lively.
Well, I hadn't planned on camping.
Good.
Because it so happens you're on a family plot.
I'm Rachel MacLeod.
And those are my ancestors you're standin' on.
Mine too.
I'm Duncan MacLeod.
Another one.
Let me guess.
You're here to find your Highland roots.
I didn't know I'd lost 'em.
You don't sound like a local yourself.
I've had 10 years of American schools to thank for that.
Would you mind telling me what you're doing here? I'm afraid that's private.
Is that so? We're burying one of our own today.
And we don't need any outsiders.
"Hi.
Welcome home.
" Rachel, I've been waiting for you.
Sorry, Father Laird.
There was someone on the family plot.
And I don't like strangers skulking around.
The Good Book tells us there's good in every heart.
If that were true, we wouldn't be here today.
Hello there.
And to you.
Hi, guys.
How's it going? Ach.
If it isn't the clansman.
What can I get you? Haggis? Maybe a kilt? An ale will do just fine.
- Are the people of Glenfinnan always this friendly? - We're friendly enough.
Just careful of strangers.
Really? Since when is a MacLeod a stranger in Glenfinnan? I was told down the road you might have a room available.
We might.
Fill it out.
Then it's second floor, on the left.
Number four.
Next to the other one.
What other one? MacLeod, what took you so long? What the hell are you doing here? I'm havin' a wee dram, lad.
You know, they produce this stuff locally.
They cut the peat right down the road.
Answer the question.
How the hell did you know I was comin'? I'm your Watcher.
I'm supposed to know.
And especially when you come home after 250 years.
It doesn't concern you.
Everything you do concerns me.
What you are.
What you were.
You think I'm gonna let you come home to Scotland without seeing what you're up to? Come on.
What gives, man? Brian Campbell is a fool, and a stubborn one too.
- You did all you could, Father.
- I would have liked to have done more.
Aye, you're a good lad.
Duncan.
You spoke to my father.
What did he say? Aye, we spoke.
Oh, Duncan, no.
We love each other.
Aye, but he nay moved, Debra.
You're to marry my cousin Robert.
That's the end of it.
You're the chieftain's son.
There has to be something you can do.
You don't think I've tried? This is a joining of the clans, the Campbells and the MacLeods.
Our clans will be joined when I marryyou.
You're pledged to him.
We cannot be.
When you look at this, think of me.
What are you saying? I'm leaving.
Then take me with you.
We'll go together, start over somewhere.
I'll nay dishonor you, Debra, nor shame my family.
I will marry him if I must, Duncan, but, please, do not leave me.
I have to see you-- even if it's only across the village.
You're the love of my life, Debra Campbell.
But it's too hard a thing to see that which I cannot have.
You'll give it back! Please, Robert, don't ask me to.
I'll not have you marked with another man's gift.
I've tried to love you.
I can only feel what I feel.
It's me that you'll marry.
Because I must.
Is that what you want? You'll share my bed and bear my children.
And I'm damned if I'll set you free! Then dwell on this, Robert MacLeod.
When I lie with you, it's him I'll be thinking of.
She's not yours, Robert.
-Not yet.
- Damn you, Duncan.
You've turned her heart against me! She cannie help her heart! No more than I can help mine.
You have what you want, but, so help me God, you'll not lay a hand on her.
You'll not make me a cuckold.
Draw your blade.
On a clansman-- Let me pass.
Not before you give me satisfaction.
Robert, we've been friends all our lives.
I cannie fight you.
Coward.
If you were not kin, you'd be dead where you're standing.
You'll not walk away on this! Not while I live.
A challenge is made-- no MacLeod can turn his back on such words.
- But, Father, he's kin.
- And you're a chieftain's son! Nay! He's also my son, husband.
Ian, dunna make him do it.
Pick it up! Or dishonor your name and all who wear it! Do you nay know the difference between honor and pride? Be silent, woman! Robert, withdraw the challenge.
I dinna want your blood.
Oh, aye.
But I want yours! He's drawn blood He's cut.
You have your satisfaction.
You damn fool.
Robert.
Robert! Duncan.
You can't die, Robert.
It is finished.
Honor is satisfied.
The men will deal with this.
It is no place for ya.
Come on.
It is a hard thing to face.
I raised you to lead this clan, and to bear this sword after me, no matter the cost.
There's nothing we can do now.
That was supposed to be mine.
And? It never happened.
Where'd you get your hands on that? Do you know something about it? I know it belongs here, like all the rest that's been stolen from this country.
I didn't steal this.
I bought it in Paris.
You think you can buy your roots? You're no better than the grave robbers.
There were graves robbed? Where? Rachel, I need to know where.
So you can get your hands on more souvenirs? Please, I've done nothing.
We've all done something, Kevin.
Now, your miserable soul will have a use.
Your blood will feed him.
It's a great honor.
Do you believe in God, Kevin? Yes.
Oh, yes.
So do I--mygod.
His name is Odin.
Almighty Odin, take his blood and return to me what is mine.
No.
No! No.
Nooo! No! Did you hear how Kevin McSwain was murdered? I heard the police talking.
Closed casket-- It's all supposed to be kept quiet so as not to scare the tourists.
Well, let ye keep it.
Scare the tourists all you like.
- They found him hanging by the neck on the moor.
Split frae gullet to stern like a butchered sheep.
Jesus.
It's a bloody maniac.
No maniac cuts like that.
That's his mark.
The blood eagle.
- Kanwulf is back.
Am I missing something? Who is Kanwulf? A Viking raider who cut a trail of death through this land for 800 years.
One of our more colorful legends.
Loch Ness gets the monster.
We get Kanwulf.
But he's real.
Like the ghosts on the moor, Angus.
Ah, that's different.
Hold, McDougal.
All we need is for a MacLeod to come back from the dead and finish him off, huh? Well, Kevin McSwain's not laughing, is he? Quiet little village you have here.
Like I said-- It's a legend.
Ah, Rachel, thank you for coming.
The parish burial records-- can any of them be missing? None I know of.
Father McQuarry was very careful to keep them up.
With these grave desecrations I fear we're losing sight of who lies where.
Sorry.
I wish I could help.
Well, we'll just have to rely on faith then, won't we? I can sense that something is troubling you.
I believe that there's someone in the village who is not who he says he is.
Really? And I think he's the one lootin' the graves.
And why would you think that? Because I saw him at the inn with a Celtic bracelet.
Have you told anyone else of this? Not yet.
What's his name? Calls himself Duncan MacLeod.
Duncan MacLeod? Perhaps he's just another dedicated tourist.
Then why is he snoopin' around the cemeteries and other grave sites? I think I should call the police.
Why don't we wait, see what happens, before we alert the authorities? We don't want to be premature.
After all, he is a MacLeod.
What are you lookin' at? They say solitude's a precious thing, Dawson.
Hey, I didn't drag my heinie up this goat path for the view.
Sheep path, Joe.
And I hope those aren't your best shoes.
Not anymore.
You know, you picked a hell of a time to come home, MacLeod.
They found another guy gutted.
I'm sure the police are on it.
- So, how long are we staying? - I'm staying until I find what I came for.
And that is? Hey, come on, Mac, help me out here.
A grave.
You don't mean this.
You can't.
We grew up like brothers, learned to fight together.
There was no evil in his heart.
I know, but he brought this on himself.
You're not to blame.
'Twas my blade that killed him.
Duncan, you had no choice.
Do you not see? I see I took his life.
Well, then, we'll give it back.
We'll name our firstborn after him.
Not with Robert's blood on my hands.
I thought you loved me.
Debra, you're my life.
But I've slain a kinsman, a friend, to wed you now-- Can you not understand? No, I understand that I love you! And that I canna live without you! Debra.
Debra, come back.
Debra, stop! Debra, stop! No! I love you.
Debra! I came here as a child.
It was my secret place.
I know.
Now come back.
I used to dream of having you even then.
I never dreamed this.
Please, Debra, you still have a life to live.
I have nothing.
No! I swear I'll marry you and love you till the end of my days.
Do you mean it? With Robert's death on your head? I can live with his ghost, but I cannie live with yours.
No! Debra! Debra! I thought the pain would kill me.
What did you do with the bracelet? I laid it in her grave, so part of me would be with her forever.
The church ruled it a suicide, and I had to bury her on unconsecrated ground.
So you don't know where the grave is.
It's been 400 years, Joe.
Everything's different.
Even the landmarks are gone.
Hope you find her, Mac.
Thanks, Joe.
All the birds in the forest They bitterly weep Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" And he calls himself a MacLeod.
Mr.
MacLeod, you do get around.
I like to get off the beaten path.
So I see.
There seems to be dirt on your hands.
Did you fall off? I guess I'm a little out of practice.
Maybe you should stick to the main roads.
This far from town, I thought you might be lost.
Not anymore.
Hey, what gives? You're not packed.
I'm stayin' on for a while.
But you did what you came for.
You know, it's funny what you remember.
The heather blooming, the smell of burning peat.
The feast after the harvest when the whole clan gathered, and you thought the whole world was there.
I thought you were gonna let the police handle this.
This land came under the MacLeods once.
These are my people, my clan.
Mac, that was 400 years ago.
These people are not under your protection anymore.
Yeah, but I won't let them get slaughtered, Joe.
You know what I think? I think this place is gettin' to you.
Yeah.
We have a warrant to search these premises.
Over against the wall, sir.
Highland hospitality seems to have gone downhill.
Maybe it's the guests.
- Look, this is not my room, okay? - Over against the wall, sir.
Remind me.
Next time, separate vacations.
- Someone mind explaining what this is about.
- It's about grave robbing.
I was wrong.
It's about murder.
Thank you for coming, Father.
How could I not? When a Christian soul has been disturbed, one of God's own should be on hand.
Desecration of a holy spot is a terrible thing.
- You found something.
Duncan MacLeod didn't come to rob the grave.
He came to put this back.
The man has the heart of a poet.
And a sense of clan loyalty.
Put this back.
He went to a lot of trouble finding the grave of Debra Campbell.
That name isn't mentioned in the burial records.
It wouldn't be.
Debra Campbell committed suicide for the love of a MacLeod.
At least that's the legend.
And you take your legends seriously here.
How does the rest of it go? That Duncan MacLeod came back from the dead to avenge his father and kill Kanwulf the Viking.
Excuse me, Father.
I've got to go.
I think I'd like to meet this Duncan MacLeod.
Then come along to the inn.
I must pray.
Ask him to come to the church.
All right.
Beat that.
When do you, uh, get your sword back? A day or two.
They took it to Edinburgh for testing.
You worried? Eh, this Norse guy-- you know, the legend.
- What legend? - Kanwulf the Viking.
What about him? The bodies.
The blood eagle.
It's Kanwulf's trademark.
It can't be K-- Oh, of course.
It was after I died the first time.
After they cast me out.
I hadn't met Connor or taken my first head.
I still had no idea what had happened to me-- or what I was.
I'd been gone two years.
I thought nothing could bring me home.
Then I learned our village had been attacked, and my father was gravely wounded.
Donal, who did this? No.
It can't be you.
Damn it, man! Who did this? You're dead! Dead! I saw it with my own eyes.
Damn you! Who did this? Kanwulf the Destroyer! Kanwulf's a legend.
He's not real! Neither are you! Father? Mother.
Duncan, is it really you? I'm here.
My beautiful son's come back.
They tried to tell me you were evil.
I knew it wasn't true.
It dinna matter now.
His sword-- claim it.
I cannot.
He banished me.
I have no right.
I have no clan.
I'm not even your son.
No.
It matters not who bore ya.
You are my son.
And it is yours.
Take it.
Take it, I say! Let no man tell you different.
You are Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.
So I left to avenge my father-- in search of Kanwulf.
I knew he was inhuman.
I just didn't know he was immortal.
I found Kanwulf's men.
A bunch of thieving butchers celebrating the death of my village.
Look.
It's him.
The ghost.
The ghost of Duncan MacLeod! Aye.
Back from the dead to seek my vengeance.
Come on! Fight me! Come on! Then I felt it for the first time.
Another Immortal.
It seemed in me and around me at the same time.
But I had no idea what it was.
You're Kanwulf.
I killed the one who held that.
He fought well for an old man.
I'll do better.
I'm his son.
His son? You don't even know what you are, do you-- or what I am? I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.
And you're dead.
That's all I need to know! Strike.
Send me to Valhalla.
I'll send you to hell! For you, Father.
I left him for dead and buried his ax.
If there was a Valhalla, I wanted him weaponless.
But I didn't take his head.
If he was immortal, you'd have known it.
Would I? Would I have recognized that feeling? Joe, I had no idea why I was still alive.
I didn't know about other Immortals, or that the only way you could kill one was by taking his head.
And you left the sword.
In my mother's heart, I was a MacLeod.
But to the clan, I was banished.
Father Laird asked if you wouldn't mind stopping by the church.
Fine.
I'm sorry.
That's all right.
No, it's not.
Travelin' all that way to honor one of ours.
I had no right to suspect you.
You were protecting your own.
I made a fool out of myself doin' it.
Not to me.
Father Laird? For now.
Kanwulf.
The hair's different.
The clothes-- But you're still inside there, aren't you? I see you're a little better dressed yourself.
Since when does a Viking take the cloth? Ah, the good father.
I met him coming into town.
No one had seen him yet.
I'd hoped the burial records would give me a clue.
- For what? - You ought to know, MacLeod.
It was you who took it from me.
- All this for an ax? - An ax.
An ax made by the gods, MacLeod, used by Loki and Thor themselves.
- You can't still believe that.
- As much as they believe in their pale Christ.
I thought I'd lost it forever until this turned up in Norway.
I traced it here.
That ax was given to me the day I became a warrior.
And, by God, I was ready to dig up the whole country for it.
- You're really insane.
- Am I? Why did you bury the bracelet with the girl, MacLeod? We all have our rituals.
Like the blood eagle? An offering to the gods of thunder and war.
It's no coincidence that the one man who knows where the ax is came to me.
And I want it! Or the offerings will continue.
I'll kill you first.
We're on holy ground, MacLeod.
You can't kill me here.
And my parishioners have arrived to pray.
And I'll be waiting for you.
Good day, Father.
Good day.
Bless you, my son.
This is crazy.
Human sacrifice, Norse gods, Odin's ax-- There ain't no such animal, Mac.
He believes it.
And there is an ax.
You know where it is? I've always known.
It's in my father's grave where I buried it.
So you think you give him the ax, he disappears? That's all he wants.
So, if you believe that, you don't have to fight him.
Hey, how about this time, you live, he lives, and we just walk away.
There are some things you can't walk away from.
Oh, come on, Mac.
He killed my father! He came back from the dead, claimed his father's sword, killed the Viking and stopped the slaughter.
That's a legend, Rachel.
The bracelet? Now this? If I asked you to explain, would it make any sense? Duncan MacLeod, maybe some legends are true.
Maybe.
For centuries you were lost.
Now an enemy brings you to me.
You kept your word.
Run away while you can.
It's one thing having the ax.
It's another to keep it.
- I'm ready.
- So am I.
Now it's finished, Father.
Now it's finished.
It's over.
I knew you'd be back.
The legend.
That seems to belong in your hand.
No.
It belongs in Glenfinnan.
This is its home.
Yours too, Duncan MacLeod.
Hey, Mac.
The Highlander.
Hmm.
Think they had you in mind when they put it up? Probably not.
Look, why don't you stay, MacLeod? There are too many questions left unanswered.
It's better just to disappear.
Yeah.
I guess that's what legends are supposed to do.
Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" And here we are We're the princes of the universe Here we belong fighting for survival We've come to be the rulers of your world I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world
This isn't even a real grave.
It's a battle site, you fool.
How does he know that? That's his business.
Now put your back into it.
I can smell the silver from here.
What the hell's the matter? Dogs-- something's spookin' them.
You bloody old woman.
The only one spooked around here is you.
Mary and Joseph, it's you! Why do you have to sneak up like that? What have you found? Only this dagger.
Not what you're looking for.
Maybe I should hire someone who'd be more successful.
And maybe if we find it, we'll sell it to someone else.
That would be a grave mistake.
Don't threaten us.
Or folks might hear who's behind this grave robbing.
Not from you.
Please don't kill me.
I have something else in mind for you, Kevin.
Uh, Kevin, bring him along.
He is Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Born in 1592, in the Highlands of Scotland, and he is still alive.
He is immortal.
For 400 years, he's been a warrior, a lover, a wanderer, constantly facing other Immortals in combat to the death.
The winner takes his enemy's head and with it, his power.
I am a Watcher, part of a secret society of men and women who observe and record, but never interfere.
We know the truth about Immortals.
In the end, there can be only one.
May it be Duncan MacLeod, the Highlander.
Here we are Born to be kings We're the princes of the universe I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world I don't know, George.
even if the print really is from the period.
Look at the brushwork.
Yes.
Well, at least we agree that it is a good copy.
You sure about that, James? Oh, MacLeod-- Lalonde here has convinced me to take this copy off his hands.
You got lucky, James.
That's an original Utamaro.
I'm sure you're mistaken.
There's Utamaro's mark right there.
but-- your style, MacLeod.
Mmm.
Well-- a companion piece in Kyoto.
I know.
I bought it three days ago.
Thirty, for an original Utamaro.
Very well.
Thirty.
Ah, monsieur? Oh, no.
Eh, bien.
C'est un Monsieur Bailey for 30,000 francs.
You know what, James? You're right.
It wasn't really my style.
Wrap this for Monsieur Bailey.
Where did you get that? A fine example of jeweled silver work from the late Celtic period in Scotland.
- I'll take it.
- 10,000 francs.
That seems hardly fair.
Twelve.
Fifteen.
- Fifteen.
Monsieur Bailey? - Twenty.
Just returning the favor.
- Fifty.
- Fifty? Fifty-five.
How much do you really want it? One hundred.
May I package it for you? Au revoir, Monsieur Bailey.
A pleasure as always.
Congratulations, Mr.
MacLeod.
An excellent piece.
I asked you how it got here.
Wh-Who knows? These things have a way of turning up.
Gambling debt.
Death in the family.
You didn't buy this at an estate show.
I asked you how you got it here, Lalonde.
A bulk shipment from England.
I cannot check every piece.
All I know is that it's from somewhere in Scotland.
U-Uh, in the Highlands.
Glenfinnan, on the shores of Loch Shiel.
Ah.
You know it.
I was born there.
O Bonny Portmore I am sorry to see Such a woeful destruction Of your ornament tree For it stood on your shore For many's the long day Till the longboats From Antrim Came to float it away All the birds in the forest They bitterly weep Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" Mother, Father-- It's been a long time.
It's good to be home.
Excuse me.
The campground's further down the road.
It's better sightseeing, not to mention more lively.
Well, I hadn't planned on camping.
Good.
Because it so happens you're on a family plot.
I'm Rachel MacLeod.
And those are my ancestors you're standin' on.
Mine too.
I'm Duncan MacLeod.
Another one.
Let me guess.
You're here to find your Highland roots.
I didn't know I'd lost 'em.
You don't sound like a local yourself.
I've had 10 years of American schools to thank for that.
Would you mind telling me what you're doing here? I'm afraid that's private.
Is that so? We're burying one of our own today.
And we don't need any outsiders.
"Hi.
Welcome home.
" Rachel, I've been waiting for you.
Sorry, Father Laird.
There was someone on the family plot.
And I don't like strangers skulking around.
The Good Book tells us there's good in every heart.
If that were true, we wouldn't be here today.
Hello there.
And to you.
Hi, guys.
How's it going? Ach.
If it isn't the clansman.
What can I get you? Haggis? Maybe a kilt? An ale will do just fine.
- Are the people of Glenfinnan always this friendly? - We're friendly enough.
Just careful of strangers.
Really? Since when is a MacLeod a stranger in Glenfinnan? I was told down the road you might have a room available.
We might.
Fill it out.
Then it's second floor, on the left.
Number four.
Next to the other one.
What other one? MacLeod, what took you so long? What the hell are you doing here? I'm havin' a wee dram, lad.
You know, they produce this stuff locally.
They cut the peat right down the road.
Answer the question.
How the hell did you know I was comin'? I'm your Watcher.
I'm supposed to know.
And especially when you come home after 250 years.
It doesn't concern you.
Everything you do concerns me.
What you are.
What you were.
You think I'm gonna let you come home to Scotland without seeing what you're up to? Come on.
What gives, man? Brian Campbell is a fool, and a stubborn one too.
- You did all you could, Father.
- I would have liked to have done more.
Aye, you're a good lad.
Duncan.
You spoke to my father.
What did he say? Aye, we spoke.
Oh, Duncan, no.
We love each other.
Aye, but he nay moved, Debra.
You're to marry my cousin Robert.
That's the end of it.
You're the chieftain's son.
There has to be something you can do.
You don't think I've tried? This is a joining of the clans, the Campbells and the MacLeods.
Our clans will be joined when I marryyou.
You're pledged to him.
We cannot be.
When you look at this, think of me.
What are you saying? I'm leaving.
Then take me with you.
We'll go together, start over somewhere.
I'll nay dishonor you, Debra, nor shame my family.
I will marry him if I must, Duncan, but, please, do not leave me.
I have to see you-- even if it's only across the village.
You're the love of my life, Debra Campbell.
But it's too hard a thing to see that which I cannot have.
You'll give it back! Please, Robert, don't ask me to.
I'll not have you marked with another man's gift.
I've tried to love you.
I can only feel what I feel.
It's me that you'll marry.
Because I must.
Is that what you want? You'll share my bed and bear my children.
And I'm damned if I'll set you free! Then dwell on this, Robert MacLeod.
When I lie with you, it's him I'll be thinking of.
She's not yours, Robert.
-Not yet.
- Damn you, Duncan.
You've turned her heart against me! She cannie help her heart! No more than I can help mine.
You have what you want, but, so help me God, you'll not lay a hand on her.
You'll not make me a cuckold.
Draw your blade.
On a clansman-- Let me pass.
Not before you give me satisfaction.
Robert, we've been friends all our lives.
I cannie fight you.
Coward.
If you were not kin, you'd be dead where you're standing.
You'll not walk away on this! Not while I live.
A challenge is made-- no MacLeod can turn his back on such words.
- But, Father, he's kin.
- And you're a chieftain's son! Nay! He's also my son, husband.
Ian, dunna make him do it.
Pick it up! Or dishonor your name and all who wear it! Do you nay know the difference between honor and pride? Be silent, woman! Robert, withdraw the challenge.
I dinna want your blood.
Oh, aye.
But I want yours! He's drawn blood He's cut.
You have your satisfaction.
You damn fool.
Robert.
Robert! Duncan.
You can't die, Robert.
It is finished.
Honor is satisfied.
The men will deal with this.
It is no place for ya.
Come on.
It is a hard thing to face.
I raised you to lead this clan, and to bear this sword after me, no matter the cost.
There's nothing we can do now.
That was supposed to be mine.
And? It never happened.
Where'd you get your hands on that? Do you know something about it? I know it belongs here, like all the rest that's been stolen from this country.
I didn't steal this.
I bought it in Paris.
You think you can buy your roots? You're no better than the grave robbers.
There were graves robbed? Where? Rachel, I need to know where.
So you can get your hands on more souvenirs? Please, I've done nothing.
We've all done something, Kevin.
Now, your miserable soul will have a use.
Your blood will feed him.
It's a great honor.
Do you believe in God, Kevin? Yes.
Oh, yes.
So do I--mygod.
His name is Odin.
Almighty Odin, take his blood and return to me what is mine.
No.
No! No.
Nooo! No! Did you hear how Kevin McSwain was murdered? I heard the police talking.
Closed casket-- It's all supposed to be kept quiet so as not to scare the tourists.
Well, let ye keep it.
Scare the tourists all you like.
- They found him hanging by the neck on the moor.
Split frae gullet to stern like a butchered sheep.
Jesus.
It's a bloody maniac.
No maniac cuts like that.
That's his mark.
The blood eagle.
- Kanwulf is back.
Am I missing something? Who is Kanwulf? A Viking raider who cut a trail of death through this land for 800 years.
One of our more colorful legends.
Loch Ness gets the monster.
We get Kanwulf.
But he's real.
Like the ghosts on the moor, Angus.
Ah, that's different.
Hold, McDougal.
All we need is for a MacLeod to come back from the dead and finish him off, huh? Well, Kevin McSwain's not laughing, is he? Quiet little village you have here.
Like I said-- It's a legend.
Ah, Rachel, thank you for coming.
The parish burial records-- can any of them be missing? None I know of.
Father McQuarry was very careful to keep them up.
With these grave desecrations I fear we're losing sight of who lies where.
Sorry.
I wish I could help.
Well, we'll just have to rely on faith then, won't we? I can sense that something is troubling you.
I believe that there's someone in the village who is not who he says he is.
Really? And I think he's the one lootin' the graves.
And why would you think that? Because I saw him at the inn with a Celtic bracelet.
Have you told anyone else of this? Not yet.
What's his name? Calls himself Duncan MacLeod.
Duncan MacLeod? Perhaps he's just another dedicated tourist.
Then why is he snoopin' around the cemeteries and other grave sites? I think I should call the police.
Why don't we wait, see what happens, before we alert the authorities? We don't want to be premature.
After all, he is a MacLeod.
What are you lookin' at? They say solitude's a precious thing, Dawson.
Hey, I didn't drag my heinie up this goat path for the view.
Sheep path, Joe.
And I hope those aren't your best shoes.
Not anymore.
You know, you picked a hell of a time to come home, MacLeod.
They found another guy gutted.
I'm sure the police are on it.
- So, how long are we staying? - I'm staying until I find what I came for.
And that is? Hey, come on, Mac, help me out here.
A grave.
You don't mean this.
You can't.
We grew up like brothers, learned to fight together.
There was no evil in his heart.
I know, but he brought this on himself.
You're not to blame.
'Twas my blade that killed him.
Duncan, you had no choice.
Do you not see? I see I took his life.
Well, then, we'll give it back.
We'll name our firstborn after him.
Not with Robert's blood on my hands.
I thought you loved me.
Debra, you're my life.
But I've slain a kinsman, a friend, to wed you now-- Can you not understand? No, I understand that I love you! And that I canna live without you! Debra.
Debra, come back.
Debra, stop! Debra, stop! No! I love you.
Debra! I came here as a child.
It was my secret place.
I know.
Now come back.
I used to dream of having you even then.
I never dreamed this.
Please, Debra, you still have a life to live.
I have nothing.
No! I swear I'll marry you and love you till the end of my days.
Do you mean it? With Robert's death on your head? I can live with his ghost, but I cannie live with yours.
No! Debra! Debra! I thought the pain would kill me.
What did you do with the bracelet? I laid it in her grave, so part of me would be with her forever.
The church ruled it a suicide, and I had to bury her on unconsecrated ground.
So you don't know where the grave is.
It's been 400 years, Joe.
Everything's different.
Even the landmarks are gone.
Hope you find her, Mac.
Thanks, Joe.
All the birds in the forest They bitterly weep Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" And he calls himself a MacLeod.
Mr.
MacLeod, you do get around.
I like to get off the beaten path.
So I see.
There seems to be dirt on your hands.
Did you fall off? I guess I'm a little out of practice.
Maybe you should stick to the main roads.
This far from town, I thought you might be lost.
Not anymore.
Hey, what gives? You're not packed.
I'm stayin' on for a while.
But you did what you came for.
You know, it's funny what you remember.
The heather blooming, the smell of burning peat.
The feast after the harvest when the whole clan gathered, and you thought the whole world was there.
I thought you were gonna let the police handle this.
This land came under the MacLeods once.
These are my people, my clan.
Mac, that was 400 years ago.
These people are not under your protection anymore.
Yeah, but I won't let them get slaughtered, Joe.
You know what I think? I think this place is gettin' to you.
Yeah.
We have a warrant to search these premises.
Over against the wall, sir.
Highland hospitality seems to have gone downhill.
Maybe it's the guests.
- Look, this is not my room, okay? - Over against the wall, sir.
Remind me.
Next time, separate vacations.
- Someone mind explaining what this is about.
- It's about grave robbing.
I was wrong.
It's about murder.
Thank you for coming, Father.
How could I not? When a Christian soul has been disturbed, one of God's own should be on hand.
Desecration of a holy spot is a terrible thing.
- You found something.
Duncan MacLeod didn't come to rob the grave.
He came to put this back.
The man has the heart of a poet.
And a sense of clan loyalty.
Put this back.
He went to a lot of trouble finding the grave of Debra Campbell.
That name isn't mentioned in the burial records.
It wouldn't be.
Debra Campbell committed suicide for the love of a MacLeod.
At least that's the legend.
And you take your legends seriously here.
How does the rest of it go? That Duncan MacLeod came back from the dead to avenge his father and kill Kanwulf the Viking.
Excuse me, Father.
I've got to go.
I think I'd like to meet this Duncan MacLeod.
Then come along to the inn.
I must pray.
Ask him to come to the church.
All right.
Beat that.
When do you, uh, get your sword back? A day or two.
They took it to Edinburgh for testing.
You worried? Eh, this Norse guy-- you know, the legend.
- What legend? - Kanwulf the Viking.
What about him? The bodies.
The blood eagle.
It's Kanwulf's trademark.
It can't be K-- Oh, of course.
It was after I died the first time.
After they cast me out.
I hadn't met Connor or taken my first head.
I still had no idea what had happened to me-- or what I was.
I'd been gone two years.
I thought nothing could bring me home.
Then I learned our village had been attacked, and my father was gravely wounded.
Donal, who did this? No.
It can't be you.
Damn it, man! Who did this? You're dead! Dead! I saw it with my own eyes.
Damn you! Who did this? Kanwulf the Destroyer! Kanwulf's a legend.
He's not real! Neither are you! Father? Mother.
Duncan, is it really you? I'm here.
My beautiful son's come back.
They tried to tell me you were evil.
I knew it wasn't true.
It dinna matter now.
His sword-- claim it.
I cannot.
He banished me.
I have no right.
I have no clan.
I'm not even your son.
No.
It matters not who bore ya.
You are my son.
And it is yours.
Take it.
Take it, I say! Let no man tell you different.
You are Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.
So I left to avenge my father-- in search of Kanwulf.
I knew he was inhuman.
I just didn't know he was immortal.
I found Kanwulf's men.
A bunch of thieving butchers celebrating the death of my village.
Look.
It's him.
The ghost.
The ghost of Duncan MacLeod! Aye.
Back from the dead to seek my vengeance.
Come on! Fight me! Come on! Then I felt it for the first time.
Another Immortal.
It seemed in me and around me at the same time.
But I had no idea what it was.
You're Kanwulf.
I killed the one who held that.
He fought well for an old man.
I'll do better.
I'm his son.
His son? You don't even know what you are, do you-- or what I am? I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.
And you're dead.
That's all I need to know! Strike.
Send me to Valhalla.
I'll send you to hell! For you, Father.
I left him for dead and buried his ax.
If there was a Valhalla, I wanted him weaponless.
But I didn't take his head.
If he was immortal, you'd have known it.
Would I? Would I have recognized that feeling? Joe, I had no idea why I was still alive.
I didn't know about other Immortals, or that the only way you could kill one was by taking his head.
And you left the sword.
In my mother's heart, I was a MacLeod.
But to the clan, I was banished.
Father Laird asked if you wouldn't mind stopping by the church.
Fine.
I'm sorry.
That's all right.
No, it's not.
Travelin' all that way to honor one of ours.
I had no right to suspect you.
You were protecting your own.
I made a fool out of myself doin' it.
Not to me.
Father Laird? For now.
Kanwulf.
The hair's different.
The clothes-- But you're still inside there, aren't you? I see you're a little better dressed yourself.
Since when does a Viking take the cloth? Ah, the good father.
I met him coming into town.
No one had seen him yet.
I'd hoped the burial records would give me a clue.
- For what? - You ought to know, MacLeod.
It was you who took it from me.
- All this for an ax? - An ax.
An ax made by the gods, MacLeod, used by Loki and Thor themselves.
- You can't still believe that.
- As much as they believe in their pale Christ.
I thought I'd lost it forever until this turned up in Norway.
I traced it here.
That ax was given to me the day I became a warrior.
And, by God, I was ready to dig up the whole country for it.
- You're really insane.
- Am I? Why did you bury the bracelet with the girl, MacLeod? We all have our rituals.
Like the blood eagle? An offering to the gods of thunder and war.
It's no coincidence that the one man who knows where the ax is came to me.
And I want it! Or the offerings will continue.
I'll kill you first.
We're on holy ground, MacLeod.
You can't kill me here.
And my parishioners have arrived to pray.
And I'll be waiting for you.
Good day, Father.
Good day.
Bless you, my son.
This is crazy.
Human sacrifice, Norse gods, Odin's ax-- There ain't no such animal, Mac.
He believes it.
And there is an ax.
You know where it is? I've always known.
It's in my father's grave where I buried it.
So you think you give him the ax, he disappears? That's all he wants.
So, if you believe that, you don't have to fight him.
Hey, how about this time, you live, he lives, and we just walk away.
There are some things you can't walk away from.
Oh, come on, Mac.
He killed my father! He came back from the dead, claimed his father's sword, killed the Viking and stopped the slaughter.
That's a legend, Rachel.
The bracelet? Now this? If I asked you to explain, would it make any sense? Duncan MacLeod, maybe some legends are true.
Maybe.
For centuries you were lost.
Now an enemy brings you to me.
You kept your word.
Run away while you can.
It's one thing having the ax.
It's another to keep it.
- I'm ready.
- So am I.
Now it's finished, Father.
Now it's finished.
It's over.
I knew you'd be back.
The legend.
That seems to belong in your hand.
No.
It belongs in Glenfinnan.
This is its home.
Yours too, Duncan MacLeod.
Hey, Mac.
The Highlander.
Hmm.
Think they had you in mind when they put it up? Probably not.
Look, why don't you stay, MacLeod? There are too many questions left unanswered.
It's better just to disappear.
Yeah.
I guess that's what legends are supposed to do.
Saying "Where shall we shelter Where shall we sleep" And here we are We're the princes of the universe Here we belong fighting for survival We've come to be the rulers of your world I am immortal I have inside me blood of kings I have no rival No man can be my equal Take me to the future of your world