Ryan overheard others speak of the two's strange behavior. They had no horses, no one had seen them eat, and neither appeared to sleep, roaming the camp at all hours of the night. The two would also disappear into the darkness together, which would generally circle the conversation back to crude speculation.

In truth, both Ryan and Victor were restless and the two would roam for miles around the encampment, both exploring and scouting the area ahead of them.

They reached Agincourt on a frosty morning and it was then that Ryan realized how truly small the English army was. The French barred the way to Agincourt, blanketing the horizon with their superior numbers. Word reached their camp that they would attack the next day.

The following morning men stood in the long shadows shivering from both cold and fear. Both armies stood in the open, perhaps a stone's throw from one another. The English, however, were flanked by thick woods on both sides. They had no reserve and lined up in a single line of dismounted knights and men-at-arms, with the archers between them and at their flanks. The King stood at the center, as did Victor and Ryan.

Victor and Ryan wore only mail, unlike the knights behind them who wore full armor. Neither wore helmets, or the leather headdress of the archers. They were the only two on the field uncovered.

Victor turned and smiled at Ryan, and it was the smile of a predator. Ryan felt a shiver of excitement run up her spine, and she could not help but smile as well, the smile of a hunter ready for sport.

The two armies stood facing one another, neither liege willing to sound the attack. Hours pa.s.sed as Ryan paced impatiently, and the sun was nearly overhead when they finally received the word to attack.

The English marched forward and Victor restrained Ryan, whispering they would halt when within bowshot. Ryan whispered that she was already within her range and Victor suppressed a smile. The men-at-arms in front of them stopped and began planting stakes to repel a calvary charge. The opposing army began to move towards them.

Victor watched the battle with keen eyes. Because of their position, they were safe from a flank attack, and because of the stakes, they beat back the frontal attack. As soon as the front wave of French calvary began to retreat, he pushed Ryan forward to chase them down.

The retreating calvary flung their own advancing infantry into confusion that was worsened when the second division began to advance. The two waves of humanity came clashing together and it was quickly evident the French army was being pushed back. Victor searched the line for the weakest link in the chain of men; that would be where the two would go.

Victor ran forward, easily outdistancing his line. Ryan kept pace with him and the two loped across the field to the spot Victor had chosen. Ryan knew her duty; she and Victor would fight back-to-back, entrusting no one else to protect them.

Victor reached the line first and with a tremendous blow, cut a man in two with his sword. The surrounding soldiers were so stunned at the feat, they could not protect themselves from Ryan's flashing sword. She quickly dispatched three before a fourth could raise his sword, and even this act did him no good. Ryan impaled him, chain mail and all.

The world became a mad swirl of blood and flailing bodies, of dust and screams and amputated body parts. Everything appeared in slow motion to Ryan; the men surrounding her moved as if their limbs were frozen. The only person who appeared to be moving at a normal speed was Victor, who fluidly cut a swathe through the sluggish ma.s.ses.

Ryan followed Victor as he moved forward. She had the brief impression they were surrounded by enemy soldiers, but this sea of humanity flowed to their deaths as the two cut them down as easily as the previous ones.

There seemed to be a pause in the fighting and Victor glanced over at Ryan with warning. To the surprise of those around them, Ryan sheathed her sword and moved closer to Victor, gazing far off into the distance. She stepped in front of her mentor, waiting patiently.

She did not have long to wait. The sky was suddenly blackened with arrows as enemy archers let the missiles fly. The rain of arrows fell to the ground, blanketing both friend and foe alike. Screams of agony filled the air as men cried out when the arrows found their mark.

But they did not fall to the ground near Victor, nor did they come near him. Ryan stood in front of him and in a study of concentration, began to s.n.a.t.c.h the missiles from the air. Her hands moved with blinding speed as she knocked them to the ground or deflected them to the side.

At the same time, Victor was dispatching any enemy still standing. It was only a matter of moments before he and Ryan were the only two still standing within a great distance.

The hail of arrows ceased and Victor turned his gaze to the enemy line. The ground began to shake as knights on horseback rode down the hill toward the battleground. The ground behind them also began to shake as the English knights began their charge. Ryan again drew her sword.

The two calvaries clashed with a horrendous noise and Victor and Ryan were trapped between sweaty, wide-eyed horses and unseated knights who struggled to their feet in their bulky armor. On horse or on foot, the enemy knights were no match for Victor's sword as he cut through their mail or smashed them to the ground, armor and all.

Ryan was separated from Victor, but she was only slightly concerned. Her sword flashed out, smashing a lance in two and knocking the horseman from his mount. She beheaded him and turned to block another blow.

Ryan was beginning to feel fatigued. She had lost all sense of time or the number of men she had killed. She was covered in blood and the heat was beginning to wear on her. The noise of battle and the screams of death of both men and animal seemed endless. Although the surrounding men still appeared to move in slow motion, she herself began to feel as if she was slowing down.

She heard the sound of hooves behind her and whirled, her sword held ready. But she had not turned fast enough and the tip of the lance pa.s.sed beneath her sword and pierced her chest above her heart.

The pain was immediate and intense as the lance traveled straight through her. Her vision blurred and in fury she grabbed the lance and leaned backward, lifting the startled knight from the back of his horse. The horse galloped by her as she held the knight suspended, dangling helplessly, and then she smashed the lance in two with her sword. The knight came crashing to the ground toward her and her sword flashed out, cleaving him in two.

Ryan dropped her sword and staggered away from the dead man. She grasped the lance and tried to pull it from her body, but she was weakening and had poor leverage. The battle seemed to be waning, but Ryan did not notice. Unable to free herself from the lance, she decided she would attempt to jar it loose. She took a deep breath and fell backward, jamming the lance into the ground and pushing it back up through her body as she followed it to the ground.

Ryan laid on the ground staring up at the sky. The pain was enormous, blocking out all sound and all sight. She still was not free of the lance and now the tip was embedded in the ground beneath her. She tried to pull the lance upward once more, but now she was weaker, and effectively pinned to the ground.

A shadow fell over her and she noted distantly that an enemy was standing over her. With a cry of triumph, he thrust his sword into her lower torso and Ryan felt the searing pain cut through her. He yanked his sword loose and prepared to stab her a second time.

With the same dispa.s.sionate interest, Ryan watched as blood spread over the front of the enemy's torso. The tip of a sword appeared through the man's chest and he screamed as he was lifted from his feet.

Victor swung his sword, dislodging the man and throwing him to the ground. Ryan turned her head to look into the dying man's eyes. He gurgled once, then his eyes were lifeless. She turned her head once more to stare up at Victor.

Victor stared down at his charge, mentally noting her injuries. He inwardly cursed himself for not staying closer to her, but outwardly he was unconcerned.

"Must I always keep an eye on you?"

Ryan stared up at her mentor, uncertain whether she should feel fear. She glanced at the lance protruding from her chest. "I guess someone has to."

Victor shook his head and placed his foot on her sternum. He grasped the lance firmly in one hand. "I guess that would be me, then."

With one swift move he yanked the lance from Ryan's body. Ryan gasped at the pain and closed her eyes. Victor threw the weapon to the side and leaned down and grasped Ryan's collar. He lifted her effortlessly, holding her upright with one hand. He stared at the wound, even now feeling his hunger stir.

Ryan opened her eyes, catching the glint in his. "I hardly think now is an appropriate time," she said through clenched teeth.

Victor did not speak but instead lightly bit his own lip. He placed his lips on Ryan's and she tasted his blood in her mouth. Strength immediately flowed through her and the pain, although still present, suddenly seemed manageable. All she wished to do now was sleep.

He ended his kiss, still holding her close to him. With his free hand he thrust his sword into the ground and then lifted her into his arms. The battlefield was littered with dead as he began to pick his way through the bodies. Men stared in awe as the dark lord stalked from the grounds into the forest, carrying his mortally wounded companion.

It was not simply the common man who stared. The King sat on the back of his horse on a nearby hilltop. He had been mesmerized from the beginning of the battle by the ferocity and skill of the two warriors. He stared at the lone sword standing amongst the piles and piles of bodies, by far the greatest number slain anywhere on the field. He had witnessed in disbelief and fear as the lad had plucked arrows from the sky. He had watched as the dark lord had cut men in two, armor and all. He had watched the lad suffer the grievous injury, and still slay his attacker. And he had watched that strange, sensual kiss between the man and his dying boy.

Henry the V had never seen anything like it before, nor would he ever again.

CHAPTER 21.

THE THREE LEFT THE MUSEUM and continued to walk downtown. Susan felt as if all eyes were upon them as they strolled the street, glancing in shop windows. Both Ryan and Jason seemed enamored with the sights: huge wheels of cheese and hanging sausages in a delicatessen, a candy store in which every color imaginable was represented, book stores with hundreds of different books in the windows.

Susan was interested by people's reaction to the tall, golden-haired woman. Ryan definitely attracted a lot of attention although she seemed unaware of it. Susan was thoughtful. Ryan did not seem particularly interested in people. She was far more interested in the aesthetics of buildings, the play of light and shadow through the trees, the different colors in the candy store. She seemed to live in a world where human beings were not the principle visual attraction, indeed, were not even contenders. Susan glanced around her. By following Ryan's gaze, she began to see things she had never seen before.

Susan was surprised when Ryan paused, staring intently ahead of her. She looked, trying to see what Ryan saw.

Ryan was staring at a young man about a 100 feet ahead of them. He was surrounded by several female companions, not surprising since he was extremely handsome. He seemed unaware of Ryan's scrutiny, although it was quite marked.

Ryan turned to gaze into the window of a bakery, staring at the rows of bread and pastries.

"Is something wrong?" Susan asked her.

Ryan glanced back at the young man, who seemed to sense something and looked about him with confusion. He apparently did not see Ryan, who was still examining him at length. Ryan nodded toward him, addressing Susan.

"The young man ahead of us, he is one of my Kind."

Susan was startled and swiveled her gaze back toward the young man. He did seem to have some of the presence Ryan possessed, although not nearly to the degree. He continued to look around him in confusion, and continued to miss Ryan.

Susan watched the man. "You can sense one another, can't you?"

Ryan gazed back down at the pastries. "Yes. Sometimes from miles away. But he can't sense me because I'm not allowing him to."

The young women with him pretended to be upset over his momentary inattention and he appeared to shrug off his feeling. He returned his full attention to his companions and they set off down the sidewalk.

Susan grabbed Jason who was pressed against the bakery window. He glanced up at his mother, sensing her unease.

Ryan began to follow the young man from a distance and Susan, clutching Jason's hand, fell back. Ryan waved for her to catch up, and she pulled Jason along.

"I'm a.s.suming you're more powerful than him?" Susan said, a little fearfully.

Ryan laughed a short laugh. "Oh yes. He's a Young One, and not particularly powerful, although I imagine he's extremely compelling to his human companions."

Susan noted the derisive quality in the comment. "And you're able to block his ability to sense you?"

Ryan nodded, easily keeping pace with the group in front of them. The sidewalks were crowded with the evening throngs of people, but everyone seemed to move out of Ryan's way. "I'm clouding his mind. He senses me, but that's more a result of my power than his ability."

Susan watched as the young man began to glance over his shoulder. He still seemed unable to spot Ryan, and he was becoming increasingly agitated. His companions complained as he began to hurry them along.

Ryan had picked up her pace as well and Susan's unease increased. Jason was struggling to keep up, practically running at her side. Susan had the distinct impression that Ryan was stalking the young man. She seemed to take no particular pleasure in what she was doing but rather was coldly methodical, like a shark circling its prey.

The young man's agitation was peaking as he glanced wildly around him. He could not pinpoint what was following him, but he knew it was strong and that it was hunting him. Susan felt Ryan tense, and the young man bolted.

In little more than a flash of dark clothing, Ryan was gone. She left only the impression of movement, and even that Susan caught only out of the corner of her eye. Susan stood on the sidewalk, the man's bewildered companions a few feet in front of her. She turned and was startled to find Edward at her side.

"I believe you should come me with me," he said calmly. A limousine pulled to the curb.

Susan made a snap decision, realizing it was probably foolish. "Take him," she said, thrusting Jason's hand into the older man's grasp. Edward started to object, but Susan was already running down the street after Ryan. The older man glanced down at the youngster now in his care and sighed.

Ryan chased the Young One down the sidewalk, effortlessly keeping pace with him. She felt his fear and knew he would quickly make a mistake.

He did so, attempting to cut into an alleyway and instantly Ryan was upon him. She held him by his collar and his eyes grew wide with terror as he realized how Old the one was in front of him.

"Please," he asked, begging for his life, "let me go. I'll do anything for you."

Ryan gazed down at the Young One. "You'd do anything for me, anyway."

The young man swallowed hard, knowing the words to be true. Old Ones were always seductive, but this one was absolutely hypnotic.

"Who made you?" Ryan asked.

The Young One spoke a name but it meant nothing to Ryan and she was relieved. However, she did not wish her presence to be known. She could block her image from the Young One's mind but the magnitude of her power alone would leave an imprint. There were still a few who would recognize that imprint. She looked into the Young One's eyes, and realized he was flawed and weak anyway.

The young man realized he had been weighed in the balance and found wanting. He closed his eyes. "Oh G.o.d," he sobbed.

Ryan snapped his neck expertly, without anger but without remorse. She stood holding him, wondering if his life force would remain. She did not sense it and knew her judgment to be correct; if he had been killed so easily he should not have been made.

A gasp at the opening to the alleyway attracted her attention. She had been aware of Susan's approach and had not been particularly concerned by it. She now realized the picture she presented, holding the dead man in her arms.

Susan's eyes widened in horror as she took a step back.

"Susan..." Ryan began warningly.

Susan stumbled and turned, fleeing from the scene in the alley behind her. Ryan rolled her eyes in exasperation and tossed the body behind a dumpster. She gave chase to Dr. Ryerson.

She caught Susan easier than she had caught the Young One and bodily picked her up. Susan had the impression of air rushing by her and the next thing she knew she was teetering precariously on a windowsill near a fire escape, three stories above the ground.

Ryan leaned casually against the building, crossing her arms in front of her.

Susan was desperately trying to remain calm. This was the first time she had been genuinely afraid of Ryan, and knew she had badly underestimated her.

Ryan simply gazed at her with her unblinking gaze. "I would think you'd be getting used to this by now."

Susan shook her head, feeling nauseous. "I could never get used to the way you kill."

Ryan's voice was suddenly cold. "Do not judge me by your standards, Dr. Ryerson. You know nothing of my Kind, and you know very little of me."

Susan steadied her voice, trying to ignore the fact she was 35 feet above ground, standing on a ledge less than a foot wide. "Are you going to kill me?"

Ryan wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Why would I do that?"

"You don't seem to have a lot of respect for life."

Ryan shrugged noncommittally. "You're correct. I do not. But I was raised in a world full of people who had no respect for life. My disrespect is more a result of the two decades I spent as a human than of the seven centuries I have spent as I am."

Susan inched away from the edge, pressing herself against the building. "Why did you kill him?"

Ryan again shrugged off the act. "He was weak, and he was flawed, and he would have told the Others."

"Why don't you wish to be found?"

Ryan looked out across the city. "My Kind are attracted to me," she paused, as if searching for words, "in the most inconvenient way. I want to be left alone."

Susan had the feeling Ryan was leaving some very important details out. She was reluctant to ask her next question.

"Why didn't you Share with him?"

Ryan laughed without humor. "After what I'm used to, he would not satisfy me."

Susan wanted to pursue this line of questioning, but not as much as she wanted to get off the ledge and down on the ground. Susan gestured towards the fire escape and Ryan nodded in acquiescence. Instead of helping her, however, Ryan leaped onto the ladder and slid the entire length to the ground.

Susan inwardly cursed her, silently arguing that she was too old for this type of stunt. Ryan watched her carefully, however, and Susan knew instinctively that the woman would not let her fall.