Season Four begins with an episode on everyone’s Top Ten list. This was Adrian Paul’s directorial debut and he produced a masterpiece of love, grief, jealousy, revenge, honor, action—everything that is Highlander. Make sure that you read the producers’ comments below. Duncan comes upon the bracelet he buried with his first love. It sends him back to his highland home to complete 350-year-old business. We learn why he will always to be known as Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. The title denotes honor as well as responsibility. He accepts both. New characters: KANWULF — An Immortal Viking who terrorized Scotland and killed Duncan’s father. Presently he masquerades as Father Laird to the villagers of Glenfinnan. IAN MACLEOD — Duncan’s father (adoptive). MARY MACLEOD — Duncan’s mother (adoptive). ROBERT MACLEOD — Duncan’s cousin and best friend. DEBRA CAMPBELL — Duncan’s first love. RACHEL MACLEOD — present day descendent of the Clan MacLeod. GEORGE LALONDE — Owns an art gallery. GEORGE BAILEY — Patron of the gallery, acquaintance of Duncan’s. KEVIN AND BRIAN MCSWAIN — Two local Glenfinnan boys doing some illegal digging. ANGUS — Local villager. Glenfinnan, Scotland, On the Shores of Loch Shiel Present Day The ebony raven— Watches the two. They dig in the dark, To hide what they do. They are working for Kanwulf, He is searching, obsessed For something long gone— That he once possessed. Dogs howl....and the raven— Alights on a limb, “What have you found?” Nothing satisfies him. “Not what YOU want. If you treat us like slaves, We will tell everyone— Who is robbing these graves.” These men do not know— That they’ve been employed— By a powerful Immortal, Many lives he’s destroyed. If he thinks you’re a threat— You’ll soon be a-dyin,’ Now he uses his sword— To murder young Brian. Kevin is next— To feel Kanwulf’s wrath, Yet, his outcome will follow— A far different path. “Don’t kill me,” he begs. Kanwulf sounds almost kind. “For you, I have something— More special, in mind.” George Lalonde’s Art Gallery Bailey’s bid on a painting, They’re nearing a deal. He insists to Lalonde— That the artwork’s not real. “This is NO copy.” Mac asserts, “I declare— Lalonde, if you settle— For less, it’s not fair.” Something next to the painting— Rocks MacLeod to his core. A fine silver bracelet. He has seen it before! “Where did you get that?” That pounding’s his heart, “From Scotland....fine piece— Of late Celtic art.” “I’ll take it.” Now Bailey— Bids against Mac! Just returning the favor, He gets his own back. MacLeod’s forced to pay— Ten times the price. But for this unique piece, It was no sacrifice. MacLeod gets his answer, “The bracelet arrived— In a shipment from England, (From Scotland, derived). Mac amends, “From Glenfinnan, On the shores of Loch Shiel. There I was born.” There began his ordeal. Glenfinnan, Scotland, Present Day Mac hikes through the fields, Where he used to dwell, The lake and the castle, He remembers them well. It has been many years, The forest’s now tame— But the grave of his parents— To him, looks the same. He kneels by the stone— His parents, addressing— When behind him....a voice— Not at all acquiescing. “I’m Rachel MacLeod. These are our family plots.” She does not think much— Of expatriate Scots. Mac: “I’m a MacLeod.” “Why are you here?” “That’s private,” he says. She makes herself clear. “We’re burying one— Of our family today. We don’t need outsiders, To get in our way.” Rachel joins with the mourners— At Brian’s graveside. There we see ‘Father Laird,’ At the grave, he’ll preside. But, the ‘Father’ is Kanwulf! Clad in priestly attire, He pretends to console— And calm Rachel’s ire. Later The Highlander’s welcome— Has been cold as frost. All preconceived visions— Of homecoming....lost. At the inn, silence greets him, Sharp stares pierce like ice. “Are the folks in Glenfinnan— Always this nice?” Cousin Rachel’s the owner, “We’re careful of strangers.” “Since when’s a MacLeod— One of Glenfinnan’s dangers?” Mac asks for a room, And when that chore’s done, Rachel says, “You’re in four, Near the other strange one. Mac turns to see Dawson, “Aren’t you out of line?” “I’m your Watcher. Remember? Your business is mine.” Mac tunes Dawson out.... There it is! On the wall! The Clan Chieftain’s sword— That started it all. Flashback, Glenfinnan, 1618 Flame-haired Debra Campbell— Kneels by the water. She’s easily Scotland’s— Most beautiful daughter. There....up the road— Duncan walks with his clan. To his father he says— “You have done all you can.” Debra’s eyes are aglow, As she runs to her love. But the words from his mouth— Are not those she dreamed of. “We cannae be married, To Robert, you’re pledged.” (Mac’s cousin and friend, The knife is two-edged.) He gifts her the bracelet. “Though we cannae be, When you look upon this— Please think of me.” “What are you saying?” “That I must leave here. To see....and not have you— Is too much to bear.” Robert MacLeod’s— Reaction is swift. “I will no’ marry you, With another man’s gift. I will nae set you free!” Debra’s fire flares anew, “It’s of HIM I’ll be thinking— When I’m lying with YOU!” Robert raises his arm— To strike her.... he’s set. Duncan restrains him, “She isn’t yours yet. “Draw your blade! Coward!” To the clan chieftain’s son! Ian MacLeod— Knows what must be done. To a reluctant Duncan— Ian says, “You must fight!” No matter....he’s kin— No matter who’s right. Mary MacLeod— Runs to his side. “Can you nae tell the difference— ‘Tween honor and pride?” But the matter is settled, The sad fight commences, Robert draws the first blood, As they tumble through fences, Duncan says, “It is over. You have satisfaction.” But Robert’s inflamed, And demands further action. Now Duncan reacts— Though he doesn’t intend— He runs Robert through— His kin....and best friend. “IT IS FINISHED!”states Ian, Plunging the sword— In the earth, now the honor— Of the clan is restored. Present Day, The Inn “That sword was supposed— To be mine,” Mac declares. “It never did happen.” Dawson just stares. Mac puts down the bracelet— To sign the guestbook. And Rachel MacLeod— Takes a long, angry look. “Where’d you get THAT? Are you one of those knaves— That are looting our country, Robbing our graves?” “I bought this in Paris, Graves robbed? Tell me where.” “Why? So you’ll steal— More souvenirs there?” The Forest Kevin painfully moans, He’s been tied between trees, Kanwulf is savoring— His victim’s unease. “It’s an honor to feed him.” The raven’s eyes shine. “Take his blood, Odin! And return what is mine!” The Inn, Later Angus recounts— A tale dark and gruesome. Kevin’s been murdered, That makes it a twosome. “He was slit open....butchered— Hung up like a sheep.... It’s Kanwulf, I tell you! He’s awoke from his sleep!” Joe’s perplexed, “Who is Kanwulf?” “A marauder, a Viking, Prowled for eight hundred years, As a legend, he’s striking.” “What we need’s a MACLEOD!” (As the villagers scoff.) “To arise from the dead— And finish him off.” The Local Church Rachel seeks ‘Father Laird,’ To suggest and advise. “There’s a tourist up here— Passing in a disguise. Perhaps he robs graves, He sure acts high browed, And he claims that his name— Is Duncan MacLeod.” His caution to Rachel, “Don’t tell anyone.” Mac’s name strikes a chord, A most welcome one. The return of his foe! Odin knows how he’s yearned. What MacLeod stole from him— Will now be returned! The Countryside Mac’s mounted a horse, His quest’s underway, He encounters Joe Dawson, “How long will we stay?” Mac sees poor Joe’s shoes— Ruined by sheep excrement. “Till I find a grave, That is my intent.” Flashback, Glenfinnan, 1618 Duncan tells Debra— For them, it’s the end. “It was MY blade that killed— My very best friend. Robert was a kinsman, I have taken his life. Though it tortures my heart, You cannae be my wife.” Debra pulls off the bracelet, Hurling it to the earth. “If I cannae have you— What is my life worth?” She runs to the edge— Of a sheer precipice, Duncan stares, unbelieving.... Has it all come to this? He holds out his hand, He relents, as she sways, “We’ll marry, I’ll love you— To the end of my days.” Her face is his sun, In her eyes, he’s engrossed. He swears he can’t live— With the guilt of her ghost. Their hands almost touch, Only one moment more. But the ground ‘neath her feet— Gives way with a roar. She’s dashed on the rocks— As he screams far above. Only memories and the bracelet, Will endure of his love. Countryside, Present Day “I thought that the pain— Would kill me,” says Mac. “When I saw this bracelet, I had to come back. I buried it with her— I felt there should be— A part of me with her, For eternity.” “The church ruled her death— By herself, instigated. So the ground where she lies— Is unconsecrated. I dug her grave, But the landmarks are gone.” Joe hopes that he finds her. Mac mounts and rides on. Mac rides over pastures, Through forests, past streams, The magnificent landscape— He recalls from his dreams. Though all of this beauty, As he searches, heartsore— The bagpipes lament, Strains of “Bonny Portmore.” At last, with his love— He is once more alone. He has found, “Debra Campbell,” Etched on a crude stone. He kneels and remembers— Her eyes so beguiling, By the stream’s cooling water, She sat, sweetly smiling. He buries the bracelet, Leaves a wildflower bouquet, Unaware he’s being watched, He mounts, rides away. But Rachel has followed— And now she is sure— MacLeod’s a grave robber— And he’s no amateur. The Inn Mac comes back to find— In his room—the police! They search him and Joe, “Grave-robbing must cease!” They discover his sword, Rachel sneers, “I was wrong— This is about MURDER, Has been all along.” Debra Campbell’s Grave Rachel and ‘Father Laird’— Discover that Mac— Wasn’t robbing the grave, He put something back. Rachel’s chastened, impressed, ‘Father Laird’ says aloud— “I’d like very much— To meet Duncan MacLeod.” The Inn While Mac is awaiting— His katana’s return, Shooting darts with Joe Dawson, Joe expresses concern, “Kanwulf, the Viking, The tale from the Norse, Those bodies....his trademark.” Mac: “It can’t be..... Of COURSE!” Flashback, Glenfinnan, 1624 “When I was first killed, My clan cast me out. I had no idea— What it all was about.” We hear Duncan’s words— And we see through his eyes, As his mind reaches back, The events crystallize. “I hadn’t met Connor, Or taken a head. I’d been gone two years, Then I heard it said— My village was raided, My father near death, I had to return— If it took my last breath.” The guard by the door— With horror, reacts. “WHO DID THIS!” yells Duncan But the guard just backtracks. “Kanwulf the Destroyer!” “He’s a legend, not real!” “Neither are YOU!” As he flees his ordeal. Duncan enters the hut, Sitting next to the bed— Is his mother, grief-stricken, Her husband lies dead. Though he’s not from her body, This is truly her son. “I know you’re not evil. Do what must be done.” “Take up his sword! She demands stubbornly, “But....I’ve no right, He has banished me” “Claim it! It’s yours!” He accepts from her hand. His father’s claymore, With his mother’s command. “You are Duncan MacLeod, Of the Clan MacLeod! Let no man say different!” Mary’s voice strong and proud. When MacLeod leaves that day, He swears to avenge— The death of his father. On Kanwulf—revenge! His pursuit seems unending, On horseback for days. Now and then, a horrific— Sight meets his gaze. Human sacrifices— Each with bloody design, Strung up and smeared— With the Blood Eagle’s sign. One day he feels it. His very first Buzz. “Around me, and in me— Didn’t know what it was.” MacLeod draws his sword, Evil Kanwulf appears, “The one who held that— Fought well for his years.” “I am his son.” I’ll do better, by far.” Kanwulf lifts his axe, “You don’t know what you are!” “I know who I am, And I know you are DEAD!” Duncan defeats him— But does not take his head. He does take the axe, Then exhausted, he reels— Drives his sword in the earth, Then beside it, he kneels. “For you,” he says,.... “Father!” It was finished, he thought. He’s since learned it wasn’t, Cruel lesson, time taught. Present Day, The Inn “I buried his axe, He was dead, was my guess. If he got to Valhalla, He would be weaponless.” Joe says, “But you left— The sword when you vanished.” “Despite mother’s words, By the clan I was banished.” “Father Laird,” Rachel says— “Would like to inspect you.” She expresses regret, “I’d no right to suspect you.” “You protected your own.” “A fool’s what I was.” “Not to me,” says MacLeod, As he smiles at his coz.” The Local Church As soon as Mac enters— He feels the sensation. Another Immortal— Is in this location. “Father Laird?” he calls out, “For now,” says the beast. “Since when does a Viking— Dress like a priest?” “I waylaid the priest, (One nobody knew), I hoped burial records— Would give me a clue.” “To what?” Asks MacLeod. “You ought to know. It was you, took it from me, So long ago.” “All this....for an axe?” “By the gods it was made.” “I’ll kill you right now.” “You cannot use your blade. We are on Holy Ground. See my rites have begun.” Kanwulf calls, as Mac leaves, “Bless you, my son!” The Inn, MacLeod’s Room Joe’s telling Mac— That he should relax. There is no such thing— As an Odin-forged axe. “Joe, there’s an axe, But I hid it from sight, Deep in my father’s grave, It seemed only right.” “All he wants is the axe? Then why should you bother? Let him have it, don’t fight.” “Joe, HE KILLED MY FATHER!” Mac walks down the stairs, Take the sword from the wall. Rachel stands nearby watching, Wrapped in her shawl. “A MacLeod has returned, Arose from the dead, Claimed the clan sword, Killed the one we all dread. “That’s only a legend.” “Some legends are true.” MacLeod cannot linger, He has work to do. The Forest at Night The fire is blazing— Like the raven’s bright eyes. MacLeod hurls the axe. Kanwulf catches his prize. “For centuries, I lost you,” To the axe, tenderly, “Now, a great enemy— Brings you to me.” Mac lowers a torch, And a fiery ring— Encircles the fighters, Their blades clash and sing. Both of them bloodied, From vicious attacks, With their ultimate charge, Mac’s sword cleaves the axe. The same forceful stroke, Removes Kanwulf’s head. The circle of fire’s— Extinguished and dead. As the Quickening begins, There’s a brilliant moonrise, The raven departs, Back to Odin he flies. The Inn, Later Duncan comes down, Very respectfully— Replaces the sword, “This is where it should be.” Rachel was dozing, “It belongs in your hand.” “No, this is its home, Glenfinnan’s its land.” She touches his face, Kisses his cheek, “It’s also YOUR home,” He nods, doesn’t speak. He walks down the road, Like the legend of yore, Disappears to the strains— Of Bonny Portmore. Peace, Emit © 2002 Under the Kilt from Highlander: The Official Site: Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production "What everyone remembers are the bugs. It was so intense up in the woods that everyone had to wear mosquito nets because these things would be in your face by the thousands; it was incredible. If you were claustrophobic, you would have committed suicide. But the poor actors, they couldn't wear nets, they had nothing. So when you watch the show, you can see these mosquitoes flying around and through frame and as the shooting progressed, you could see welts on the actors. It was horrible. Also, I had to shoot that bracelet falling in slow motion and to get that thing to tumble the way we wanted it to tumble, I think we shot about 5000 feet of film because we were shooting it at something like 120/frames a second. It worked." Ken Gord, Producer "This has to be one of top fives, and I think I'm at 3 or 4 so I'd better be careful. This was Adrian's first job as a director and he was good. But I think what everybody on set remembers is the bugs. You can see the actors swallowing them while they're on the show and they don't miss a beat....what professionals. And the crew and the director, when he was directing, were all wearing nets over their heads because the bugs were swarming around. "We shot all that footage in Scotland at the end of the season before knowing that David had already worked it all out. So when we finished Paris the year before, Adrian and I and a small crew, went and shot specific scenes that we knew were going to fit into the show. We didn't take sound. We even shot dialogue scenes and had people just move their mouths because we knew we could ADR it later. It fit in and we knew what we should shoot in Scotland and what we could cheat back in Vancouver. It was fun, we had a good time, but it rained the whole time. When I had to send back the fur coat that Adrian wore on the show to Angel and Berman's, which is, I think, the biggest costume house in the world, when they got it back, they told us it was the most disgusting return that they ever had." Home ~ Brothers In Arms