The Goth came into Hamburg just before spring, the weather cool and somewhat windy in the northern parts of Germany. The area was peaceful, free of immediate threat and panic. The tribe found a place to stay amid the western suburbs which were dotted with planned and natural streams, lakes, and woods. John called for a day of rest and saw the rest of the tribe off to the city before he would leave.

      Claudia approached him outside, where she had taken some things to the jeep. "I think it would be best if Alaric and I both went with Merideth," she said, "Will you be all right alone, or shall I ask Merideth to have you along?"

      John would rather Claudia travel with him, but he understood Merideth had been unwell and suspected she might be pregnant, if nothing worse explained her symptoms. It was fairly necessary to have both her lover and her best female friend to support her. "I will be fine. Go on, I'll saddle Darkling and ride."

      Claudia nodded. John watched as she removed the delicate, thorned, silver circlet from her head and placed it carefully in her bag.

      John saw them off in their jeep, then quickly brushed down Darkling and saw he was well shod, before fastening the black leather riding saddle. John mounted the young black stallion and rode through the parkland onto the street.

      Just outside the busy downtown area, along one of the canals, was another park where a fair was being held. John dismounted and walked Darkling, heading into the fair tents. Clear from the wares and shouting venders, this was a historical fair celebrating olden times. Men, women, and children in modern clothes walked alongside fully-armored knights, or ladies in costume gowns. There were entertainers in belled hats juggling, sword swallowers, and other sideshow acts. Wearing clothing Joy had given him - long suede cloak, gray woolen doublet trimmed in black leather, poet-style white shirt, graying black hemp pants, black riding boots - John must have seemed to fit in with the costumes volunteers or visitors. And then, he remembered he wore a crown. It felt almost a part of him now.

      Had any others of his tribe passed by and decided to visit this place? It seemed the perfect area to discover lost tribe members. John reached to the small purse hung from his belt where he kept necessary small things, ID, pocketknife, compass, several small found trinkets, and introduction cards Sascha and Claudia had both worked in making. John transferred a stack of cards from purse to pants pocket for easier reach.

      Walking over wooden bridge across a stream, John came to a more heavily shaded area where there were yet more attractions, and more venders sold replica wares. To one side, visitors watched a staged contest between two costumed swordsmen. The blacksmith was just outside the pegged off area of the match, speaking to those gathered about his blades. "They are replica blades, not souvenirs made to look real," he was saying in German, "all these swords could be used, and are made much as they were over a thousand years ago. They are not sharpened however, but could be sharpened. I do not sharpen the edges of those I bring to the fair, it is just safer for all that way."

      "Could kill even a Vampyre with one of these, better than a gun, eh?" One modern dressed visitor commented to a nearby friend.

      "You could kill anyone with a sword if you know the proper use," said the vender, "But against anyone less than a swordmaster, or very lucky fool, even a fledgeling Vampyre could easily win. It is simple fact. Their speed and perception would enable them to hold or take your blade before you could swing, perhaps even draw."

      "What about the ancient tribes that travelled across Europe, do you know what swords they fought with?" John asked.

      The vender gave a short nod, "Where are you from? Another that has traveled a fair distance to see the fair, we hold it every year."

      "Posen," John said knowing this was the German way of naming Poznan. "I was passing and decided to see the fair. Do many people travel to it?"

      "We have visitors from all over really, but, the war has reduced our numbers. To answer your question, many of those peoples had bronze blades until several centuries after the fall of Rome, when iron was more commonly wrought in Europe. True steel was sometimes created by accident and, later by the 15th and 16th centuries, could be worked into weaponry and armor. A strong sword-grade steel has a low carbon percentage and nickel and/or chromium alloyed to the iron to resist rust and staining."

      "What metal are your swords?" another visitor asked.

      "I use mainly steel. Sometimes Iron or Bronze for reenactment or ceremonial use. Ocassionally aluminum, for prop companies. All the steel swords are made as strong as possible, to last a long time and take a good sharp edge, most are actually stainless steel."

      John pointed to one of the swords beneath a protective plastic sheet; it was etched with knotwork design along the blade. "Did you do this decoration?"

      "Yes. It was more common in the swords carried by noblemen. Often kings and nobles had jewels inlaid in hilt or blade as well as various forms of etching or carving in blade. This is acid etched. Mechanically etched swords are also available, are usually deeper and so last longer."

      "How much for one of these daggers?" asked the friend of the man who had spoken of killing Vampyres.

      "That stilletto has been priced at 2,000 dollars German," the Vender answered.

      "We'll take it."

      The vender called for an assistant to make the transaction.

      "Excuse me, but could I ask about a sword?" John called to the vender.

      Again the vender made a nod.  And, again, he asked his own question. "Did someone here sell that crown?"

      "The Crown of Thorns is mine," John replied, "I also made it. I was wondering if you had or could craft a sword with thorn motif?"

      "I was going to take a break, but I have thought of a sword that would fit, why don't you come back here?"

      John walked around the display table, and followed the vender behind the folding screen hung with bladed weapons to be sold. There was another small path here and an anvil obviously used when giving demonstrations. The vender called to John as he turned his back and bent to open a traveling trunk. "I made this one sword for a production of Sleeping Beauty but the head designer rejected it. I ended up making a larger sword out of aluminum, so that the actor could lift the thing and swing it."

      When the vender turned to John he held across both hands a scabbarded sword with belt, its covering black leather and decorated in delicate silver work of thorns. It's really too splendid to show for sale here and already sharpened with a double edge..." The vender began. "I just thought you would appreciate seeing it."

      John gave a nod as the vender turned the hilt toward him. It was most likely steel, but cast in such a way that small silver vine with thorns seemed to be wrapped across the guard. The handle was covered in a thin, tightly-stretched layer of black leather, as well as some red binding, ribbon of which hung freely. "Draw the blade," the man urged with something like excitement.

      John put his right hand cautiously to the sword, closed his grasp loosely about the red and black handle. He drew it toward him smoothly, then moving his hand in a nearly complete figure eight brought the blade before him, tip tilted slightly to the left. John hefted the sword aloft with slight spin and caught it again with the flat toward him. The blade was mint, double edged and tapered from center slightly, Near the sword's lower end, a design of a thorn bush was etched in the fuller, which ended near the tip with the shape of a gothic arch.

      John tested it against invisible enemy. The sword was just light enough he could stab or swing in one hand, but crafted with a long enough grip to use the sword two-handed. It was beautiful, this sword. "It's perfect!" he told the vender and then noticed the man's gaze and in quick movement reversed his grasp and held the blade safely downward.

      "Who are you?" asked the man, gazed strangely. Was he thinking John cute?

      John tossed the sword into his left hand and reached under his cloak to his pocket for a card and offered it to the blacksmith. The man looked down at the card as John again stood at ease, sword still pointed to the ground.

      "John VonGoth, Tribal Leader of the Goth," The vender read quietly. "His battle cry is love and his sword is peace."

      John smirked at the quote.

      "You are really him?" the vender asked. "I am Quentin Weiss." He wiped his hand on his jacket then offered it. John smiled, shook his hand briefly.

      "I'm who?" John asked, really meaning to ask how Quentin already knew of him.

      "You are the boy they tell of in the dailies and the news programs. You helped refugees across the border, fled Poland with your followers so that your friends would not try to shelter you and suffer for it. You gave the dead honors no matter who they fought for. You would have sacrificed yourself for the one they call The Lady. You led a tribe across Germany, asking the war to be stopped and inviting all people to join in this tribe and in doing so forget all old feuds and differences."

      It sounded so special, and yet John had done these things. "I have done those things," he agreed, "But I have not been alone."

      "Your tribe," Quentin agreed with a nod. "There were girls here earlier speaking of finding the tribe and following you. Man, they spoke as if they were in love with you. And others talk about you. Everyone has seen the stories or heard them. You must keep the sword."

      "I do wish to have it. How much for it?"

      "No, it is a gift to you. I was meant to make it for you, only I didn't realize who I made it for until now. It is perfectly suited to you." He seemed sincere; the sword was so elegant, so beautiful.

      "Keep this sword here with you until the end of the day. I will return then. If you still want to make it a gift I will accept. And if you like I will take you to our camp and we will honor you at supper for your work."

      "I will save it here for you, Leader," Quentin said, "I will still give it to you."

      John nodded. "I wish to see the rest of the fair. I will go, and see you later." Without further word, John pulled Darkling away and walked on. There were many fine wares and interesting people. He passed cards to any who spoke to him, not wanting to be so forward as to pass them entirely uninvited.

      Along the way, he bought a few gifts. He thought Merideth was nervous and whether pregnant or not might be cheered with some small gift. John decided on pair of pretty beaded earrings. He was thinking of something he might buy Claudia, perhaps a hammered metal brassiere or skimpy chain mail garment. No, it wasn't Claudia who would like those things.

      John was hungry, could eat one of those enormous roasted legs from sheep or some such animal. There were many venders of olden style foods. John bought a large sandwich of thinly sliced lamb with lettuce, tomato and cheese on thick brown bread. He looked for a place to sit and eat. There was a sunnier area, a clearing dotted with blankets where visitors picnicked. John led Darkling across the path and tied him to a tree branch near the edge. He sat down nearby and began to eat.

      John got up once for his canteen and had some water.  He was thinking it a nice day but would rather have his friends about. As much as it could torment him when they treated him as Leader, he liked the company of each.

      John turned from Darkling where he had put his canteen into the small saddlebag and noticed the pair of girls watching from several meters away. They giggled all the more when they saw him look. They were somewhat alike in appearance, both blonde and having various styles of braided hair. They wore peasant blouses and jumpers laced so tightly their breast seemed they might pop from their clothes. One of them, more slender, held a basket.

      They called to him, Northern accents, perhaps Swedish. "Are you John, the one that leads the Goth?"

      John answered with a nod.

      Both girls rushed forward, girls, but older than Claudia was. "I'm Masha," said the more fully figured girl, "and this is my cousin Elonwey." Masha was definitely Swedish by her accent. "We read about you. A friend of Elonwey found stories of you on the net."

      "You look..."Elonwey began then dropped her head shyly, "pictures, I mean, do not fully capture you."

      "Would you like to picnic with us?" Masha asked, "We brought the food ourselves. You could tell us of your tribe."

      "All right," John agreed then decided to add, "A pleasure to share lunch with two such lovely ladies." They giggled again together.

      "He's a handsome animal, your horse," Elonwey said.

      John looked to Darkling. "His name is Darkling, I've had him a little more than a year."

      Masha whipped a blanket out across the grass and took the basket from her cousin. "Why is he called that?" Elonwey asked.

      "When he first came to me, I was working for a Vampyre, two of them actually, and I suppose thinking of them and his coloring being dark it just came to me."

      John removed his cloak and sat with the girls on their thin flannel blanket. Both were laying out food and utensils. A bottle of dark red wine was included.  They offered John tastes of every food they had made, salads, various finger sandwiches, crackers and spreads, bits of fruit. Masha ate as she spoke, was approving in her attitude toward John. John felt after a few minutes with them that Elonwey was beyond approval.

      She picked at her food, stared at him. Elonwey sighed under his own gaze, breathed heavily whenever they happened to move nearer each other. They told little about themselves. Masha was indeed from Sweden, lived in Helsingborg. Elonwey, her cousin was from Denmark, from Roskilde, near Coppenhagen. They were a year apart in age, Elonwey the younger and just shy of eighteen.

      John told them of the tribe. He told them that they were invited to visit. He expected to be in the area at least another day.

      "And Claudia, you must love her," Elonwey said.

      "She is my best friend; we are not married."

      "Like a girlfriend?" Elonwey asked.

      "I'm not sure that is right either." How to explain Claudia? "When we all have talked, the Goth that is, we agree that anyone who is having children should marry for purpose of raising children with more stability and consistency. But beyond that, we have tolerated various relationships. We are not judgmental about that. Claudia and I are close, it's true, but we also have been with other people."

      John might have blushed, and ate a small sandwich quickly, to keep from giving away more personal information to the girls. Elonwey was staring again, breath rapid. John found himself looking at her breast again, the way they shifted up and down with her breaths in the revealing clothing. He forced himself to blink, lift his gaze and smile. She was pretty, slender and having a sort of elven quality, John thought. Her features were narrow and delicate in appearance, unlike Masha who was pretty in another way entirely.

      "More wine?" Elonwey asked.

      He nodded though all the food and wine was making him sleepy. Elonwey filled the glass two thirds of the way, as full as he'd ever seen a proper wine glass. John took another sip. "What was I saying?" he asked.

      "Nothing," Elonwey giggled.

      John grinned as he fell to his side, held himself up from the ground on one arm and propped his cheek in the palm of his left hand. He smiled up at Elonwey.

      "Can I touch it?" she asked, thin delicate fingers reaching toward him.

      "What?" John asked, hoped she wasn't being indecent in front of her cousin. But, John realized only then, Masha was gone.

      "The Crown of Thorns," Elonwey whispered.

      "Yes." John held still, waited. Elonwey bent toward him, did not reach and lifted herself up on her knees, leaned further. And he had not tried to look this time; she had placed her breast before his face. Slightest movement and he could touch.

      John smiled to himself. For so long all these thoughts had been of Claudia. Even though he'd been intimate with Alaric, he rarely thought of him in between.

      "They are real, sharp. Do you ever hurt yourself?"

      "All the time, but I offer that all up. Pain and suffering are part of life, but feeling that really makes the rest sweeter I think."

      "Really?"

      "If you really love one another properly, there must be great sacrifice," John said, "Saint Mother Teresa said that."

      Elonwey drew back slightly, looked down with furrowed brow at the bead of blood on her finger. For an instant John thought of Joy, of her teeth that cut him and of her anger, and her demands, her love all sharp and deadly. And then Elonwey was licking at her finger and lying down with her head tipped the opposite of John, he only thought of her.

      A shiver went through him. "I want to kiss you," John said quietly.

      Elonwey's mouth gaped for a moment. "I — Yes. I mean..." He kissed her. John cupped his right hand behind Elonwey's head and kissed her deeply. His heart sped; Elonwey was very pretty. He desired her.

      Elonwey's fingers tapped his face. John pressed his lips to her cheek and allowed her to speak. "Move it," she said and he realized the crown bothered her. There was a trick to taking it on and off, a knowing of how to approach. John sat up slightly, removed the crown with both hands and set it a good distance away.

      "OK?" he asked.

      "Are you actually American?" she asked. John wondered if he had fallen into it without knowing. He had spoken American more than Polish as a child and it was natural to him.

      "My father is, so in America I am, but here I am Polish as well. Did I say something?"

      "You asked me OK," Elonwey laughed, "I am very well."

      John smiled at himself. He lowered his body again, touched his right hand to Elonwey's cheek. He told her she was beautiful in Polish and repeated the word in German, which she knew. She blushed, looked down shyly.  "Why did you travel here?" John asked her.

      "To meet you," Elonwey said.

      "The Goth, really?"

      "No, just you, John."

      Was she serious? Left home to meet him, because of a few pictures and stories? "You flatter me," John said, kissed Elonwey's cheek.

      She met his gaze, it seemed hard for her, the way she trembled but her gaze itself was intense. "You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen, more beautiful in person, and knowing there was a good cause involved I had to come. That way, even if you did not notice me in particular I could be involved in your tribe, look at you every day, be close to you."

      "You hardly know me," John whispered.

      Elonwey brushed her lips against his jaw as she spoke. "I can learn," she whispered. Learn? She was driving him crazy already. What he wanted to do with her words failed to describe, though plenty of images flooded John's mind. Slender delicate limbs wrapped about him, penetration, salt. He wanted his leg to stop shaking of its own accord.

      John sat straight, suddenly, shook his head of visions and breathed deeply. He thought it too soon. It wasn't him, his wants certainly, but not what he really felt good about doing so soon. "Would you like to..." he started. Elonwey was sitting up, a hand on his thigh. John looked at her hand. "We could just...just walk around. I would be honored to escort you about the fair. And you are still welcome to visit and meet the others."

      She smiled. Elonwey drew her hands in close. "I would like that." She gathered her things quickly as she explained that she knew quite well where Masha had gone and that she would find her sooner or later. John returned his crown to his head then put on his cloak.

      The basket was secured to Darkling and he carried it without fight. Leading the horse, and at his other side Elonwey on his arm, John continued to walk through the fairgrounds. When she admired a necklace he bought it for her, and yet when he saw something Claudia might like, he passed it up for fear that Elonwey would be hurt.

      It bothered John after a while, wondering what Claudia would think. If Elonwey joined the tribe, would he want to be with her? And unlike the others people noticed more what he did, he was leader and if he went for a walk in the middle of the night someone knew. Claudia could be jealous, or she could decide it was a good idea and then decide never to make love with him again. God forbid that, John prayed, hoped it wasn't blasphemous. The idea of spending a night with another was fine, but thinking of never being able to make love with Claudia hurt him somewhere inside.

      They found Masha at a clothing vender. John looked over the merchandise, found they were costumes, but of good quality, not the more flimsy type meant to pass as clothing once but real clothing made from the pattern of a past period. Claudia would so like one of these gowns. He hurt.

      "I hope you will excuse me, I really have to buy one of these gowns for Claudia, they are just the sort of thing she likes."

      "Yes, I have always seen her wear gowns in pictures. It would be expected for you to bring back the Lady a gift," Masha said.

      John didn't reply. He searched the rack of ready made medieval gowns of various fabrics and colors. Finally, looking at size, and color and texture John selected a very simple gown of rough, pale-blue silk and then a gown of burgundy velvet with flowing sleeves and laces all up the front. He was no expert on clothes, but he had known Claudia long enough. Her eyes were pale blue and girls usually liked things which matched their eyes. Also Claudia already owned one burgundy dress and whenever she wore it John noticed because she looked so radiant and very much desireable.

      John made his purchase from the vender who put the dresses in a box for him and tied it with a bit of twine.

      They walked along with Masha a while longer, until the sun was low, several hours from setting at most. John said he had promised to return to a vender for something and so wound his way back toward the place he had met the blacksmith. The blacksmith was at the table again with his two assistants. They were in the middle of putting away their wares. It seemed many venders were just beginning to or were partly done with clean up.

      Quentin waved when he noticed John had returned, gestured for him to follow again to the rear area. John led the two cousins to the much less cluttered lot. Much was packed but there was his sword atop the trunk and next to it a small roll of leather that might have cushioned another blade.

      "Hello again, Quentin," John said, "are you ready to leave, I could wait if you would like."

      "I am ready now. The others are here. And I haven't changed my mind about the sword." He lifted it then, it its scabbard and drew it out partly. "I added this inscription to the reverse side of the blade."

      John took the sword, scabbard, and belt in both hands, then read the new inscription. "The Goth shall follow the Sword of Peace."

      "Again, it is excellent work. I accept your gift with thanks." John sheathed the blade then buckled the swordbelt about his hips. It hung well he thought.

      "Truly I crafted it for you, seeing it with you is my reward, you are welcome."

      John made an elegant bow.  "Then we can travel to camp. It is not far. Have any of you vehicles?"

      "I will walk, later my friends will come for me."

      "We have bicycles with us," Masha said.

      "I will ride then. It is not so far, as I said." John tied the box to the saddle bags, returned the basket to Masha. He mounted Darkling. John thought that if Quentin looked tired Darkling might carry them both a distance. Quentin gathered a few things, a large bag and the leather bundle.

      "What have you there?" John asked finally, when they were on their way.

      Quentin looked with apparent fondness toward the item rolled in leather. "It is a gift for The Lady."

      "I suppose a gentleman should bring gifts to a hostess," John mused.

                      †               †               †

      They came to camp and it was evident not all had returned. They had been given the day off. John had forgotten. He explained to the visitors that some part of the tribe might not return until late. He did see that Adelle and Patrick were present, sitting with their daughter, and building a fire in the middle of camp. Karina and Elzbieta had returned as has Cyprian, Helena and Miko.

      John tied Darkling with the other horses and removed his saddle. He told the guests they might wait near the fire. As he had rubbed down Darkling and was brushing him Claudia returned with Merideth and Alaric in the Jeep. John decided he best tend Darkling later.

      Even as he was walking across camp, a large group returned in the van and John thought Jayne and Erik might be the only ones missing that he knew by name.

      John came to the trailer he shared, where the jeep was parked. Merideth and Claudia were together, talking. Alaric approached John. He was smiling. He touched each of John's shoulders. "We're going to have a baby."  Alaric's complete contentedness with the situation was evident. "We'll be married and then in another month or so Merideth will let us announce it officially." Alaric dropped his hands and laughed, "Apparently some women believe it jinxes the baby to speak of it to people too soon."

      "I am very happy for you. I brought Meri a present to cheer her up...but maybe you should give it to her."

      "No, you are her friend; it would be sweet coming from you. Also, she is sick of me doting on her, just wants me to be quiet."

      John nodded his understanding. Women had their moods. He walked the short distance to meet Merideth and Claudia. "I bought presents for you both today," he said. He had the dress box and small bag in his arms. "I knew you had felt bad before, Meri and so I thought that no matter what you found out I would get these for you, just hoping I could do something to make you feel better." He offered the small paper bag.

      Merideth took the bag with gracious nod. She poured the earrings into her hand. She held one up. "They are pretty," she said. She hugged John then, briefly. She put the earrings into the bag and held it. "Thank you, John, I do like them and I understand your intention. It is very sweet of you, really." She did not look entirely happy.

      Claudia was looking up at him strangely.

      "I got these for you," John explained, "when I saw them I just knew they were for you."

      "Didn't anyone have the decency to tell you there is lipstick all over you?"

      Merideth looked away as if she listened with eyes.

      John frowned and wiped at his jaw and mouth with his fingers.

      "I mean, it's fairly neutral and I exaggerated saying all over, but I can see it and it is..." Claudia shrugged. "Forget it. I'm just saying someone should have told you. What did you get for me then?"

      John suddenly felt horrible about buying her a gift at all. He held the box toward her. John thought better and pulled the box back. "Can I just speak to you alone, just for a minute, inside?"

      "OK," Claudia said, went first into the trailer. John followed right behind her, shut the door. He set the box on the counter.

      John walked to the mirror hanging above the sink. He studied his face. "It's hardly obvious, Claudy. You made me think I've been walking around like a fool all day!" the slightest trace of deep pink about his lips, almost the shade of his lips and it made his lips seem fuller than usual. And a trace on his right cheek and along his jaw on the same side but it could pass for a natural blush. John wiped at his face with a cloth anyway. He looked and saw there wasn't a trace left.

      Claudia was just standing there. John questioned in a gaze. "This feels all wrong," he said.

      "What?" Claudia shrugged.

      "The way you are looking at me and your tone, it's different."

      "I just have more important things on my mind."

      "Are you jealous?"

      "Of course not. I just noticed you had lipstick all over your face, anyone could have noticed. I think, whatever girl let you walk about like that was trying to make a show. I disapprove of people marking each other and claiming lovers in that way, it's just tacky." She was jealous. Jealous and she didn't like it, because that meant she was doubly emotional toward John.

      "I guess you're right," John made himself say. "In any case, I was looking for something nice to get you even before I met this girl today, so will you please open your gift and pretend for me to be pleased. I really do want you to be pleased..."

      Claudia untied the twine then lifted the lid. The vender had put one dress under the other and folded both neatly together so as Claudia lifted them she saw the blue silk beneath the open laces of the burgundy velvet gown. She let the gowns fall to their full length and flipped them so that the front showed as she held them to her body for size. She smiled a little, and then Claudia smiled wider.

      She turned and looked at John. "You did good," she said, "Right size and everything. I love them."

      John began to speak.

      "Danke shoen."

      Sigh of relief. "I think someone else has a gift for you...you were so busy with the lipstick—"

      "It fits you, the sword," Claudia said quickly. "Leave me, I'll be out shortly."

      John nodded before turning to leave. She had noticed. Claudia did pay attention.

      John found everyone was outside now, mainly about the fire, the usual preparing of the evening meal and trading goods. They knew well enough now when something should belong to the tribe as a whole and had elected Robbie as keeper of the inventory. He stood just behind the three visitors. "Have you been introduced to anyone?" he asked.

      "Just us," Adelle answered for them, "I thought you would introduce them if you wished."

      John nodded. "Relax," he told them, "I have a few more things to check on." He returned to Darkling and saw that he had been fed. John looked then for Leonore. She was bringing meat from refrigerator for stew while there were plenty of fish also grilling.  John came to her as she was leaving the fire.

      She greeted him, smiled. "Anything you need?"

      "I know I called a day of rest, but could you perhaps show me how I can check for messages...later?"

      "I'll do it myself, it's no real bother now that we've got most of it set up automatically. I can tell you what I've seen and heard while in the city." She went on without a reply. "German news programs tend to be pro Union, so they have coverage of a certain amount of their troop movement. If I didn't know how to spy things out myself, I'd wonder if it weren't a security risk. The VC are in the alps, advance troops flying, maybe to secure a route for their supply lines to come through Brenner Pass. I can guess that there are going to be Rowan and SCB all over Austria because of it. The Egypt Guard is in Macedonia, on the Morova in hovercraft. They will probably take the river to the Danube. We know there are DG in Hungary, so I'm guessing this part too: they will join up with the Egypt Guard to take the enemies in the west. Last, we heard the Russians had pressed as far as Dresden, but we can try to find out more about that."

      "Thanks a lot, Leonore," John said. Many forces heading north yet, and the Russians...heading to meet them. He looked over the camp. Claudia was stepping from the trailer; from the distance, it was clear she wore her new dresses, the blue beneath the burgundy. He could see the glint of the crown in her loose hair. She came gracefully toward the fire, lifting her skirts from the dirt.

      She could be such the perfect lady when she wanted to, when she wasn't staring at her mobile and tugging hair into a ponytail, wasn't biting at her fingers or wearing an old worn dress. John strode across camp quickly. He offered his arm to her and Claudia took it with gracious nod.

      Merideth was still getting over that normal during pregnancy felt unlike normal when not pregnant but she was there filming. John stopped before the three newest visiters. They stood, all three at once. "May I introduce the Lady Claudia," he said, "This is Quentin, blacksmith who made my new sword. And cousins Masha and Elonwey."

      "Which of you left lipstick on our Leader's face?" Claudia asked quietly.

      "That was me, Elonwey, My Lady," Elonwey answered, and made a curtsey.

      Claudia did not say more about that. "Have you plans to join us, any of you?" Claudia asked.

      "I would like to join the Goth," Quentin said with somewhat raised voice. John was a little surprised. "I brought a gift, My Lady, if I may present it?"

      "Of course, but let the others sit," Claudia said. Elonwey and Masha sat where they had.

      John first turned and addressed the tribe. "This is Quentin who gifted me with a fine sword today," he said. He drew the sword and then when they saw it he read the inscription aloud. "Now Quentin would like to present our Lady Claudia with a gift." John sheathed his sword, then found a seat near Alaric.

      "Merideth told me you showed up with lipstick on your face. I didn't even notice."

      John held a hand in gesture for Alaric to wait. Quentin was standing with Claudia and unwrapping from the leather roll whatever the gift was. Claudia reached to the piece of leather and drew up where the others could see a fine dagger. John could not see the details of it, but it seemed entirely silvery in color, and like his sword had red tape about the handle. "I thank Quentin doubly," Cladia anounced and among the tribe there was clapping and congratulations. She said something to Quentin John did not fully hear but guessed when she walked to Jayne that Claudia was explaining Jayne and Erik had made her crown and that she would like to show them how well her dagger matched. Perhaps it also had thorn motif.

      John turned his head to speak to Alaric. Merideth was busy with recording image of Quentin. "The new girl, the thinner one, it was her. We kissed."

      Alaric was looking over Elonwey, sort of screwed up his mouth. She was unlike Merideth who was rather more cuvaceous. Merideth also never struck John as coy or shy. "That all you did?" Alaric asked.

      "She was really into it. You know me. I wouldn't make this up, she told me that she read about me, rather a friend of hers did, and showed her some phots and such off the net. She says she came to find us just to meet me. To be with me."

      "So, she's like a groupie?" Alaric asked.

      John grimaced at that. He'd rather others follow for their cause. "Quentin said that between the dailies, the stuff on the net, and all the rumors, that everyone talks about us. They make up even more rumors. Alaric, they were in awe of me, it was weird, but I couldn't help it, she was right there." John gestured with his hand, nothing vulgar but Alaric understood, more by instinct, that John had been near enough to touching her breasts.

      Alaric laughed. He smiled at John. "You have groupies," he said and laughed again. Then a smirk. "Between that face and verdammt ineffable charisma it would not really surprise me if all of Germany ended up in the tribe."

      "It's very scary being Leader," John whispered.

      "If you were not scared all the time of the responsibility and what you could accomplish, I would not want to follow. I'd be scared too. It's getting serious."

      John nodded. He looked for Claudia. She was sitting near Quentin and Elzbieta both. "I think that's Claudia's plan. She's always acted as if I were meant to lead everyone."

      "She believes in you. She talks about being an atheist and about philosophy, but she so obviously has faith in you, John."

      John smiled to himself. He knew, in his heart, this was true. Claudia believing in him was mainly what kept him going. "I love her."

      "Always a good time to tell a person that."

      John kissed Alaric either side his mouth, and there was nothing unusual about it, except that he put love into both and whispered, "I love you, Alaric."

      John rose and walked to Claudia. She and Elzbieta looked up as he approached. John smiled tightly. He went down on one knee in front of Claudia and left hand on his sword, took her left hand in his right and bowed to kiss it. "I just came over here to—"

      A shout interrupted him, "Do it! Marry him!" No idea who that was.

      There was just the shivering and hoping Claudia was not mad. If he dreamed she would ever say yes, he would have asked long ago. She had David. John looked up cautiously. First the lipstick thing...she would be mad. She didn't look mad.

      Claudia's jaw was slack as if surprised and it was her hand trembling more than his as he held it? She blinked slowly as she looked at him.

      John swallowed. He put her hand into his other, reached for his purse. The trinkets he remembered from earlier reached his fingers. And then he drew it out, palmed the tiny thing. She couldn't. "I really came to say...I love you."

      "Je t'aim," Claudia said, voice small and quick. French, she'd reverted to French, and he knew that phrase.

      John closed his eyes, it was just a thing Miko had acquired somewhere and given him in trade for an old music recording, cheap bit of silver warming in the palm of his hand. He looked at Claudia. Expectant, that was how she looked. "Would you marry me?" he asked and knew it sounded hypothetical.

      "Oui."  She nodded.

      Claudia had nodded?

      "Ja. Yes."

      Elzbieta was screaming or crying, but John only half heard. He was looking into Claudia's eyes. "I want to marry you," he assured her, or himself. He flipped the silver ring from palm to fingertips. Gently he took her ringfinger and tried the ring. Fate. It was a perfect fit. As soon as it was on, Claudia's hands climbed John's arms. "Yes," he said though she had not asked in words.

      They both pulled at each other and meeting about middle kissed. John knew how he felt, like his eyes wanted to roll into his skull. In his mind he thanked God, thanked him again for Claudia's life and thanked him for her love. Various parts of him raced, throbbed, spun, shook and melted. Claudia tore her mouth from him to whisper at his ear, "Je voudrais tu."

      John knew this phrase of French too, felt some amount of glee in knowing it was he who inspired her to use it now, not David.

      Again her mouth, just for a moment. She held his hands and stood, so he stood.

      John's head cleared slightly. Everyone was smiling. Alaric was right next to him, grinning. Claudia was searching, whispering something to Miko, searching again.

      "Karina," she called, "John and I invest in you're the power to witness the marriages of Goth. Marry us now."

      "But I need time...if you want to do it right," Karina complained. She was approaching.

      Claudia smiled giddily at John. He was reeling. Claudia, the silly girl he nearly worshiped, so torturously logical, she wanted to marry him.

      "At least decided if it will be traditional or otherwise. Do you want a Best Man or a court at all, being married immediately?"

      "Alaric is always my Best Man, and Mikolaj already brought me the ring, anyone else who would fill the court is here...except my family and Kit, but they will have to understand."

      "Of those I would choose, Merideth has been with me longest. I would have to choose her, if I were to pick one above the others," Claudia said, "Just witness us, Karina. If Alaric and Merideth are married, or Leonore and Robbie, or whoever else are couples, perhaps we can plan something grand, our vows are past due."

      Karina conceded with a nod. "Our Leader, John and Lady Claudia wish to speak vows of marriage. We will witness. Now, Claudia, begin."

      "I, Claudia, take this man, John, to be my husband. Forever will I honor him, love him and put his will before my own, in this life, and in the next." The next!

      John kept the wording Claudia had, said, "I, John, take this woman, Claudia, to be my wife. Forever will I honor her, love her and put her will before my own, in this life. and in the next."

      "I hearby bear witness, and prounce you Claudia and you John, Wife and Husband. You are now married," Karina said with some effort at sounding happy. It was just she liked things well ordered.

      Again the cheers. "Music," Alaric called, "food, dancing music, we must send them off with some celebration." And then an arm was about John's shoulders and Alaric was kissing his face. "I am so happy for you," he said.

      John glanced at Alaric. "Just let us all plan something grand for you and Merideth."

      Alaric nodded, moved away.  Perhaps to Merideth. Others were coming with their personal congratulations. And then Elonwey was there. "Masha and I decided to stay. I hope you will be very happy."

      John kissed her lips, soft little kiss. "Thank You," he said.

      They sat and ate their supper, ate fish, or some stew. There was music coming from speakers loud enough for all to hear and to dance. Miko, having some secret assignment went here and there whispering to people and disappearing for a time before returning. John could only really concentrate on Claudia.

      Could he feel more happy?  So long he had loved her, though he wasn't sure when it first became love. And all the time spent fearing what David had...she had vowed it: next life. Even if David came to her again, she would have to also belong to John, to him, forever. Married! He had said he asked no forgiveness for making love to her, and now there would be no fear of more punishment and sin. They were married, perhaps not in a church, but surely in the eyes of God himself.

      He asked her to dance. They held hands, in this dance, the music nearly modern and not every recorded language understandable. Spinning and twisting and always at least one hand in hers. And when the song was slow, it was not so much like dancing but caress in time to music.

      And then Miko was waiting at their side, grinning and seeming rather proud.

      Claudia's smile was knowing, "Everything done, Miko?"

      "The wedding tent is ready, My Lady," the boy said loudly, "You may depart any time."

      "Tell them," Claudia requested.

      Miko raised his voice even louder then spoke, "the Leader and Lady are going to their wedding tent now!" and then he whispered toward them, "We pitched it some distance behind your trailer near some trees."

      "Lift me," Claudia said and slipped her arms about John's neck. He lifted her into both arms, gave a last look to the tribe. They seemed happy and also to cheer them on. He supposed it seemed romantic even for them, because they did call him Leader and her Lady.

      "Think you and Robbie can swing breakfast tomorrow?"

      "All set, don't worry about a thing. Whenever you decide to come back we'll have everything important ready for you to read."

      "Thanks, Miko," John said. He walked slowly to the trailer and then circled around, it was darker now and the ground uneven.

      The tent was lit without by lane of small candles set on rocks. John set Claudia down just inside the open flaps of the tent. Here too there were candles, likewise on rocks, but these tended to be smoother. A large array of red and black bedding had been lain out and the ceiling of the tent hung with some manner of gold mesh. It was romantic, dirt and leaves would have seemed as special with Claudia, but this was appreciated.

      John took his crown and sword and laid them near the flaps. He closed these as he saw figures creeping close. He realized Miko knew better than to leave the candles burning in the woods. John tied up the opening. He took his belt and boots and set these down as well, and then his cloak. He dared look and Claudia was lying across the bed, crown and shoes gone, but otherwise dressed and beautiful.

      John crawled to her, again spinning and throbbing and everything at once. Two hand signals and John knew to be silent and move close to her. He lay at Claudia's side and she leaned in to whisper. His eyes closed. She promised this: that all this night there would not be a moment they were not making love, if they must slow to the smallest kiss, a simple caress, a close whisper professing love, so be it, but there could not be a moment they stopped until neither could stand it. Claudia started with the lightest most chaste kiss and it seemed cruel and teasing after her words, but all through the night every instant of torture only deepened the pleasure. John's worst fear was never being able to stop.