Highlander III: The Sorcerer Page #8

CUT TO:

EXT. RIVER - DAY

Seventeenth century England.

Macleod rides along the shores of the river. Cavanaugh rides

beside him, singing and old FOLD SONG loudly. His voice

clearly annoys Macleod.

MCCLEOD:

Must you do that?

CAVANAUGH:

What?

MCCLEOD:

Sing.

CAVANAUGH:

It is a beautiful day. I am merely

enjoying it.

MCCLEOD:

Can't you enjoy it quietly?

CAVANAUGH:

Are you always this pleasant?

(Macleod doesn't

answer)

You know what you're problem is?

MCCLEOD:

You?

31

Cavanaugh forces a grin. He stops his horse. Macleod stops

beside him.

CAVANAUGH:

Life. You've stopped living it. You

look, but you do not see. You listen

but, you do not hear.

MCCLEOD:

I hear you.

CAVANAUGH:

What else? What else do you hear

right now?

Macleod listens for a moment.

MCCLEOD:

The river.

CAVANAUGH:

That's all?

MCCLEOD:

Yes.

Cavanaugh closes his eyes.

CAVANAUGH:

Do you not hear the wind in the

trees? The songs of the birds. The

horses breath?

(beat)

There is a whole world around you.

Alive. Living. Feel it -- become

part of it. Live your life,

Highlander. It's going to be a long

one.

MCCLEOD:

That is what bothers me.

CAVANAUGH:

I see. You don't care about life

anymore.

Macleod shrugs his shoulders, indicating he doesn't care.

MCCLEOD:

I guess not.

32

In an instant Cavanaugh draws his sword and swings it at

Macleod's neck. Just as quickly Macleod removes his Samurai

and blocks the attack. A beat. Cavanaugh grins, then lowers

his sword.

CAVANAUGH:

You protect yourself well for a man

who doesn't care if he lives or dies.

Cavanaugh moves his horse forward.

CAVANAUGH:

(looking back at

Macleod)

Fear not, my friend -- we're all

going to die. It's just going to

take us longer, that's all.

CUT TO:

INT. INN - NIGHT

A small country inn. A fire roars in the fireplace. Macleod

sits at a table, staring into the flames. Cavanaugh joins him

carrying to tankards of ale. A beat. Cavanaugh does not

interrupt Macleod's thoughts.

MCCLEOD:

I'm leaving.

CAVANAUGH:

Leaving what?

MCCLEOD:

England. There is nothing for me

here anymore.

CAVANAUGH:

And what do you think you will find

in another land?

MCCLEOD:

Maybe myself.

CAVANAUGH:

Then it's worth the journey.

Macleod holds out his hand.

MCCLEOD:

Thank you, Thomas.

CAVANAUGH:

For what?

33

MCCLEOD:

For being a friend when I needed one.

I hope our paths cross again.

CAVANAUGH:

I'm sure they will.

MCCLEOD:

As friends -- always as friends.

CAVANAUGH:

We cannot write our destiny, Macleod.

In the end it could be you and me.

MCCLEOD:

That is a thought that doesn't please

me.

CAVANAUGH:

If it came down to it what would you

do?

MCCLEOD:

I do not know. I pray that I shall

never have to raise my sword against

one that I call friend.

Cavanaugh raises his tankard. Macleod joins him. They tab

there tankards together and drink.

CUT TO:

EXT. MEAT PACKING WAREHOUSE - MORNING

Several BLACK AND WHITE POLICE CARS are in front of the

building. An unmarked car drives up and BEDSOE the cop from

Highlander one gets out. He is older, heavier and now a

Lieutenant. He walks towards the entrance of the warehouse.

INT. MEAT PACKING WAREHOUSE - MORNING

POLICE OFFICERS and members of the FORENSIC TEAM search through

the rubble for clues. The headless corpse of the Horseman is

still hanging from the meat hook in between several slabs of

beef. Bedsoe enters at stares at the gruesome sight. A

DETECTIVE GRELEY, a sloppy-looking man in his thirties joins

him.

DETECTIVE GRELEY

Caretaker found him this morning.

He's got no I.D. on him -- we'll have

to run his prints.

34

Bedsoe looks around the room. The scene is all too familiar to

him.

DETECTIVE GRELEY

So, whaddaya think, Lieutenant,

U.S.D.A?

Greley grins. Bedsoe looks at him askance.

BEDSOE:

Did you find a sword? An old sword?

DETECTIVE GRELEY

(surprised)

Yeah -- how'd you know that?

Bedsoe ignores the question. He looks away, his mind deep in

thought.

BEDSOE:

(quietly to himself)

He's back.

CUT TO:

EXT. MUSEUM - MORNING

An old building set among warehouses and abandoned buildings.

In the b.g. looms the modern high-rises of the city.

INT. OFFICE - MORNING

A large room, filled with tables that are piled high with

artifacts. Professor Dajorski enters, hangs up his jacket and

walks across the room. Jennifer is asleep at a workbench, her

head resting on the surface. Dajorski stares at her for a

moment, then gently wakes her.

PROFESSOR DAJORSKI

You stayed here again last night?

JENNIFER:

I was working on the cataloging.

PROFESSOR DAJORSKI

Jennifer, there is more to life than

work.

JENNIFER:

I know, Paul.

35

PROFESSOR DAJORSKI

Do you? Then why don't you go out?

Meet someone. Make a life for

yourself instead of hiding away in

the past?

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